How to Read and Analyze Writing Critically
Reading critically, much like thinking critically, is a skill you learn and develop—not something that you’re born with. All those English classes about blue curtains and the symbolism in Shakespeare (that we made fun of) are about teaching this skill. It’s the difference between rating a book one star because you felt tense and uncomfortable over the conflict, and rating it one star because it wasn’t built with tact or intention.
The very first thing you need to know about reading critically is this:
Everything you read is written with intention.
Even if it wasn’t intentional, all writing contains political implications anyway and it’s the author’s job to be able to see those implications.
Which means, in turn, if you’re a writer, you are responsible for the implications of your work whether you meant it that way or not.
This is a good thing! This is how we hold people accountable for bigoted or otherwise biased work, and how we can make positive changes to our work when someone else points out something we didn’t see. The point is in the trying, and the constant improving, and the best way to improve is to start here: by learning how to read (yours and others) work critically.
Most people, when starting out in reading and media analysis, start with this question: do I like it or not?
But in true analysis—when we’re trying to recognize what a piece of work is attempting to do—whether or not you like the work isn’t a very helpful question to answer on its own. What you really want to be asking is: why?
Why was the decision made? Why do you like/dislike it?
Our likes and dislikes are good indicators of our intuition. If something makes you feel itchy or wrong, it’s not enough in analysis to then say, “this is bad because it made me feel uncomfortable." You need to then ask, “why does this make me feel uncomfortable?” Because maybe the answer is, “because the protagonist is being treated like a stereotype. Thus, this piece of writing is biased.” There’s a basis for true critique there. If the answer is, “because my personal experiences make me uncomfortable with sibling rivalry.” Your feelings are certainly valid, but they aren’t a basis for critique of the work itself (unless the author claimed the work was perfect for people with your specific personal experience).
Do you see the difference? Likes and dislikes are important, but they are only one step in the broader question.
Everything is written with intention, which means the very words the author uses are chosen with precise care to elicit a specific feeling or experience within the reader.
For example, maybe you read a passage and it makes you feel a little gross—dig into the word choices here, maybe they used a word like “moist”. Many people make the mistake of then saying: “this passage was so gross, who even says moist?” without considering that this was a very intentional decision to make you squirm—this passage was meant to illicit that feeling.
When a piece does exactly what it’s set out to do, and contains the messages it has intended to make, it has done a good job as a piece of writing. You can still critique a work like this, however, and it is very important to do so. For example, what if the author set out to create a message that was politically incorrect? Or what if they intended their word choice to bully a certain experience or person?
That’s level two analysis—it’s taking the work outside of itself and into our current and historical world. So you can say, “this work’s word choices intentionally dehumanizes women, which reflects the author’s political standpoint. A work like this is problematic for a countless number of social, historical, and political reasons.”
This is an important step, especially when we’re considering works from the past. We can acknowledge the things that these works did well, while also bringing it into the present day to analyze its political messages.
However! This is also a tricky step, because what if that work that dehumanizes women is, in itself, a critique on thinking patterns present in a patriarchal system?
We’d have to look into the time the work came out, the history and views of the author, whether it was claimed that this work was a critique or satire, and if, in that case, it achieves its job in being a critique (usually found in the theme/ending of the overall work—like if the protagonist who dehumanizes women gets speared to death at the end or something).
True analysis takes work and research like this, and there’s never really any one correct answer. Some will argue that a work knows its own message and is thus critiquing itself, whereas others may argue it doesn’t. What’s important is that you’re as informed as you can be on a work, and your stance is backed by this research and knowledge.
It’s okay to admonish a “good” work for an unclear message or intention. It’s okay to admonish a “good” work from the past that has problematic messaging. These stances are up to you.
So how does this apply to your own work?
The more analysis and critical reading you do, the more you’ll be able to pick out in all works—including your own. Being able to see how killing off a certain character at the end changes the theme of your work, or carries an implicit message about people like that character, is incredibly important to writing with intention, and making sure you’re saying what you want to say.
It takes practice, time, and knowledge about our political and social world today. Stay informed, keep analyzing old and new works, and be open to second opinions and diverse perspectives that may point out messaging in your works you hadn’t considered.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Psst... Did you know I launched a website?)
Head on over to www.gatesannai.com (or click here!) for exclusive blog posts, updates on my work, and pictures of my dog.
While you're there, consider signing up for my newsletter too :-)