I’m not sure I catch what you’re getting at with this:

As to the “research” that Tyler suggests Johnston should have been put into his article, I’m not sure that I quite see eye to eye with Tyler on this one. That point rather depends on how you see the relationship of the artist and his art. There is one school of thought which leads me to think of George Bernard Shaw. Shaw insisted that the audience see his play as he MEANT them to see it. He would write whole essays to accompany the play, telling the moral, showing the meaning.

I’m not suggesting that Samuelsen should have commented himself on the meaning of the play and that Johnston should have sought that commentary out when preparing his review. In fact, I rather prefer it when authors say very little about how their texts should be read; that often provides for more lush interpretive paths. What I am suggesting is that I think Johnston–as a journalist and in the interest of approaching his audience as an informed reviewer, one who’s used the tools at his disposal to become more informed on his topics, perhaps, than his readers–should have taken greater care to depict Samuelsen’s “gene pool” for what it is–richly diverse–instead of implying (and this is how I read his first sentence) that because Samuelsen teaches at BYU, his aesthetic offerings are as conservative as the Church’s university and that, because of this, they’re Church-sanctioned fare.

If he’d dug around a little bit after the play, even if he hadn’t read your interview, IMO he may have been able to offer his MT audience something more substantial to aid in deciding whether or not they should attend the play. I don’t mean to imply that he should have written an expository essay on Samuelsen’s life and work or that everyone should be able to Google the playwright’s name right in the middle of a performance or have access to what you call obscure books on Mormon art. I was just outlining one possible approach–Googling “Eric Samuelsen”–because that’s the place where I and many others begin the process of becoming better informed (though my route often moves to less accessible locations from there).

And if you’ll read my essay more closely, you’ll notice that I’m not actually trying to dispute with Johnston about what the play means, as you seem to claim I am. I’m merely reading the play’s title and Johnston’s reading of the play itself** and suggesting that there might be something more to the play, as suggested by the title’s ambiguity, than the interpretation Johnston sets forth. In fact, Johnston himself asserts something along these lines when admits that he “can’t be sure” of his interpretation; but instead of suggesting that his readers should go find out for themselves—something I think he may have encouraged—he essentially takes on the role of gatekeeper you seem to despise and implies that there’s really no point in seeing the play, a drama that might not “teach us how to live” because (as Johnston again implies) it’s so unfamiliar and untidy.

Again, not having seen the play, I can’t agree or disagree with his interpretation, which is why I only offer a guess; but knowing something of Samuelsen’s tendency to push at cultural borders and the delight wordsmith’s take in wordplay, I think my hypothesis is somewhat informed. Would it be better informed or confirmed/disproved if I had seen the play? Probably. But I haven’t, which is why I state explicitly that my observations emanate from the title only and that I’m simply offering a guess.

As for the claim of irresponsibility you level at my attempt to sift through Johnston’s and Mormon culture’s ideological sediment using the tools of literary theory and criticism, I don’t see how the desire to engage in critical dialog with one’s culture and one’s peers and to maintain a high level of discourse while doing so is a symptom of naiveté. I do consider myself inexperienced (and yes, I do see the irony in this, which is why I speak with some degree of tongue in cheek) in that I fully acknowledge that my knowledge of said theory (which I admit does have its own restricted views) and of Mormon culture and theology is limited and that the more I learn the more I realize how little I know. Hence, I fully include myself in the group of cultural Mormons that sometimes strains at an ethical gnat while swallowing a theological camel by failing to consistently engage with our own mythos. If any one of us didn’t fail in this regard to some degree, well, they won’t be around for this discussion or any others like it because it’s likely that they’ll be talking shop about culture with Enoch himself.

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*This includes those artists and scholars who take offense and leave the Church once they realize how critical the Mormon audience can be toward those who push at borders and how slow we sometimes are to receive new things. In my opinion, bailing out in the face of criticism hinders our cultural development, as does an unwillingness to work with and persuade an audience, as Kent suggests and as I believe can happen, to realize and accept a greater degree of otherness in our arts. Perhaps then the real question becomes, as R.W. asks in comment #7, “[W]ho is going to be tough enough to find a way to meet marketplace demands, and brave enough to meet the well-meaning but naive criticisms of other Mormons and still stay in the church?”

**Are blogged reviews beyond our critical province?

The Mormon Times has set itself up to be a major gatekeeper and arbiter of taste in the world of Mormon culture.

Doesn’t that carry a certain responsibility with it? Is reinforcing the current taste filling that responsibility?

[Of course, I'm not suggesting that Johnston or the Deseret News see things that way...]

If someone wrote a more sophisticated work that was also a romance novel, would it be better accepted?

There is an assumption here that I’d like to challenge, or at least throw out as something that may not be entirely true. The assumption comes from the reactions to Johnston’s statement that Mormons probably won’t see the play.

It seems to me that we need to stop seeing the audience as static, as something that will not and can not change. That seems to me to be as pessimistic and anti-Mormon a view as there is.

I agree with the concept that, as Tyler wrote in comment 11, “anything that takes us… beyond familar views isn’t received well at first…” But I have hope, and perhaps even faith, that these views can change, that at least a strong portion of the Mormon audience will come to respect works that go beyond the familiar didacticism of mainstream Mormon works.

However, I don’t think that laying it all at the feet of Jerry Johnston is all that irresponsible. The Mormon Times has set itself up to be a major gatekeeper and arbiter of taste in the world of Mormon culture. It’s sort of weird that that is the case, but it’s the result of a provincial (and I don’t mean provincial as an insult — I find, for example, the San Francisco Chronicle to be just as provincial as the Deseret News a lot of times) publication serving a region dominated by a religious people that have a rather peculiar cultural history/trajectory.

Now, I like a lot of what the site publishes. And I think that Johnston hits all the right notes in terms of what a review for MT of an avant-garde play is going to be. I wouldn’t expect anything different. But that doesn’t mean that his rhetoric should be unchallengeable. And neither should Tyler’s. Luckily, AMV allows comments. (BTW, I’m kind of glad that MT doesn’t allow comments considering what takes place at the bottom of many Deseret News stories, but I sure wish that they would at least offer direct RSS feeds that include an excerpt from the column. And I’ve let them know that.)

The question that Pratt raises, and I think it is a good one is whether Johnston is merely reflecting how he thinks the Mormon audience is going to respond or how he thinks it should respond. It’s a bit hard to tell. But I think what’s interesting about the review is that a lot is about the works perceived reception among the Mormon audience and not as much about the merit of the work itself.

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I would prefer that commenters not toss around terms like “literary theory bullbleep” or “early graduate school rhetoric–naive rhetoric.” I mean, come on, that’s an easy place to go. It’s one I’ve done (and regretted) many times in internet discussions, but in the end it’s a rather empty posture. A sneer that dismisses without engaging and so can be met by any other kind of empty sneer. Dude, you’re such a grad student. Dude, you’re such a Philistine. Dude, you’re such an elitist. Dude, you’re such a reactionary, etc. etc. And that’s not very useful. Or cool.

I’m not asking that commenters not dispute anything we write here at AMV. And Pratt has at least provided some analysis of where he thinks Tyler’s argument falls apart. But we all have different trainings, approaches and methodologies. Let’s let those difference manifest themselves in analysis and dialogue rather than posturing. Of course, all blogging is posturing to one degree or another, but I prefer it when we break down assertions and evidences and even more when we riff of and build on posts.