The Critic

By Clive Carr

'The Critic' is a crime novel.
'The Critic's' is a book about a very manipulative person who sets out a doctrine that his detractors see as the annihilation of all artistic endeavour, whilst his supporters see it as the exact opposite.
The final section of the book is given over to the 'Critic's' appraisal of his own career and the way his ideas have had influenced modern society.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clive Carr
• Release date: Jan 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465792211

Clive Carr

English, born in 1963.

Book preview

The Critic

By

CLIVE CARR

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2019 Clive Carr

Originally published as an ebook 2010

Revised Edition 2019

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The Critic

With an introduction (including a short précis of Pearce Pearson’s career) by Drake Burmah-Lol (Editing chief of the art publications: ‘Art for Arts Sake’ and: ‘I Know What I Like!’)

Contents

Introduction

(including a brief statement of the Revisions and Amendments contained in this Edition)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

(Containing Corporal Zimmerman's own Obituary together with a Brief History of his Ground-breaking Career compiled by Pearce Pearson)

Chapter 17

(Is a concluding chapter created by Drake Burmah-Lol that describes in great detail a particularly telling event he was privy to whilst acting as Pearce Pearson’s personal secretary)

Aid Memoir

(A Brief itinerary of some of the object, mementos and paraphernalia collected by the author as an aid memoir in his creation of 'The Critic')

Introduction

'The Critic' was originally published five years after the death of the Critic Corporal Zimmerman, who was at the time, widely recognised to be the inspiration for the book’s main character. Though that was never confirmed or denied by the author himself during his lifetime, most probably because he was always wary of becoming involved in legal proceeding citing: Deformation of Character, which could otherwise be bought by the then powerful Zimmermann Estate. That said, a recent discovery in the personal effects of Pearce Pearson, of a very early draft of ‘The Critic’, clearly shows that the main character in the book was always intended to be referred to as ‘Corporal Zee’, but in a simplified form. (Z) So confirming, along with a number of other striking similarities, that the inspiration for ‘The Critic’ was Pearce Pearson’s own mentor Corporal Zimmerman without a doubt.

Remarkably since ‘The Critic’ was first published, the laws on Libel, Slander and the Deformation of Character have been greatly relaxed. So allowing this twenty fifth special edition to not only use the original names of the characters for the first time, but also remain completely faithful to the earlier manuscript. A decision that wasn’t taken lightly by the publishers, as in many ways the earlier manuscript is much less refined than the version many have grown to know and love. That said, it was felt by the present owners of the work, that the version printed here will only help underline why

‘The Critic’ itself, is still seen by many as a fine, stand alone example of the sparse style that is now universally recognised as ‘Ego Centric Noir’. And which, in recent years, has seen a surprising resurgence in popularity within certain sections of the wider reading community. A great many of whom, although already familiar with the work in its many previous guises, will hopefully still be intrigued by the notion of reading the book as it was originally intended, long before it was in anyway censored or sanitised by a number of revisionists. All of whom have, at one time or another blatantly printed their name under that of the original author in a bid to garner even greater mass appeal for themselves.

That is why, in this particular edition, the publishing company and the present owners of the work have sought to deliberately distance themselves from any such accusations of even unintentionally interfering with the work in anyway whatsoever. That said, the present owners of the work have sanctioned two amendments. Those being the deletions of a number of twice repeated words that it was felt affected the flow of the writing considerably. But apart from that, everything else, including grammatical eccentricities and deliberate misspellings have been left as they were originally set down, if not intended.

The Author

There have been a great many things written about the critic Corporal Zimmermann since his untimely death by both his many advocates and also his many detractors as well. Most of which was published by his very good friend Pearce Pearson, in the various art publications he was then the primary editor of, as well as in the two volumes he wrote on Corporal Zimmermann’s life and work: Corporal Zimmermann his life and work volume one and two by Pearce Pearson. However, the book Pearce Pearson is most famous for is of course, his thinly disguised fictional account of Corporal Zimmermann’s brief life and career titled: ‘The Critic’. Which won him not only a great deal of acclaim, but also a number of prestigious awards, including the 'Peter', as voted and sponsored by the readership of the magazine ‘Art for Art Sake’. As well as the ‘Paul’ as voted and sponsored by the readership of the magazine ‘I know what I like!’

I of course was very lucky to work for Mr Pearce Pearson’s as his personal secretary for a great many years, up until his sudden and unexpected death from throat cancer. Which came as quite a shock to all of us that had worked under him on both publications: ‘Art for Art Sake’ and ‘I know what I like!’ both of which, I was lucky enough to be given the position of Editorial Chief upon his passing. However, it was my close involvement with the man himself for all those years, rather than the work we both have in common; that I feel has left me uniquely placed to offer some insight into Pearce’s own thoughts and feelings on ‘The Critic’. Particularly as, for all he did comment on other people’s endeavours, be they literary or visual, he very rarely, if ever, spoke about how he himself came to write such a story. Though saying that, I was always acutely aware, though he very rarely said it, of how much of his successes he felt he truly owed to his own mentor Corporal Zimmermann. And that the burden of never truly being able to express that, was what had often held him back from writing anything as thought provoking and exciting again. That and of course, his own barely concealed hatred of all those ‘others’ in the world of critical analysis, who had, since Corporal Zimmermann’s death, conspired to reclassify all his revolutionary theories and manifestos as nothing less than crimes against Art itself. Though, that was only to be expected of someone, who above everything else, will always be recognised as one of the great advocators of all of Zimmerman’s ideas. Something that he felt he may well have to pay for later, as he knew better than most that there was always a price to be paid for standing up for what one believes in and doing the right thing. That is why I am certain that it would come as no surprise to him to discover that since his death was announced, he too has become the target of a coordinated effort of a number of lesser critics to discredit him, by insinuating that titles credited solely to him, may not be all his own work. The trouble is, some of the recent evidence that has come to light is very compelling indeed. And that is why, being I am to all intents and purposes, the sole heir to both Zimmerman’s and Pearson’s critical legacy, I have taken the unprecedented step of trying to clarify, for the sake of both their reputations and quite possibly my own, what may be finally be described as the truth. And the way I have sought to do that, is by adding my own short addendum to what I believe will subsequently come to be regarded as the definitive edition of ‘The Critic’ by scholars and intellectuals alike.

In reference to the addition itself, which describes a particularly telling event that I was privy to, whilst acting as Pearce Pearson’s personal secretary, I have taken the liberty of attempting to write it in a style I feel is, in some way, sympathetic to the bulk of the text that precedes it. Of course, I do realise that to some readers it may appear as though I am trying to capitalise on the works of others, and it a criticism I can see as quite justifiably in some respects. That is why I have decided to donate all the royalties I receive from this subsequent endeavour to a benevolent, and in this particular case, wholly appropriate charity, the details of which can be found at the very end of the book if any reader cares to make any subsequent donation.

The Critic

Chapter 1

Everyone, or so they say, has at least one book inside them. Now whether that book would be of merit is not really for me to assert, unless that was, I was personally approached to do so. However, even then, I might still have some misgivings about accepting such a request without first being given the opportunity to thoroughly examine and investigate the author’s: educational achievements: political affiliations: religious teachings and sexual leanings. Not to mention their general standing in their own particular field of expertise as well as the social, economic landscape that they and their peers inhabit. Not that that is really that surprising, as the last thing I would ever want to be seen doing as a professional Critic, is jumping to an ill-informed conclusion about anything. Mainly because I, possibly more than most, know just how quickly a reputation that has taken a lifetime to build, can so easily be destroyed. And so I should, as very often I have been the person a writer or painter has blamed for ruining it; and usually by inferring some negative aspect about their personal life that later becomes the general consensus of opinion that is from then on recognised as tainting the integrity of their entire artistic output.

However, when it comes to my own work, I can not, no matter how much I may desire otherwise, be anything less than one hundred percent totally subjective about my own literary achievement. So, I suppose it must come as little surprise to anyone to discover, that being I have already ticked all the ‘right’ boxes in terms of my artistic and intellectual credentials, I must also have a story that is worth telling. And that furthermore, I would actually be doing the literary world a great disservice if, after the many times I had personally been approached and invited in the past to write something by one or another publishing house, I was to keep the story to myself and refuse to allow it to be printed. It is also the reason, now I have committed it to paper, that I feel totally justified in arguing that my particular story should rightfully take its place in the pantheon of all-time great novels. Simply because it attempts to describe in an intelligent and articulate manner, not only how a great man can lose the only happiness he’d ever known. But also, what it is that drives him to spend all his time and energy trying to pacify his own vanity’s distorted requirements for revenge, rather than more sensibly, trying to recapture all he has lost.

Now in order to begin my story, I propose that I should first start, like many great writers have before me, by introducing the book’s main protagonists as well as make a brief thumb nail sketch of the world they inhabit. And the reason I have decided to follow such a basic arrangement, apart from the fact that every scene I describe needs a backdrop, is it is essential that the reader is at least made aware of, even if they don’t fully understand them, the social mores and dictates that motivate and influence the three main characters in the book, myself included.

So, I suppose I should start by saying that the first time I ever saw Wrey, was in the foyer of the ‘Spiel’ building where I worked with my long time associate Matine. I won't dare to embarrass either of us now by describing him as my friend anymore. Though saying that, judging by the way he spoke to me the last time we met, there is still a case for arguing that he still might. Anyway, as I was saying, there we both were standing in thoughtless silence at the head of a tiny crowd patiently awaiting the elevator as it counted down the floors. When much to everyone's annoyance, a woman who dressed even younger than she looked, and she looked only to be in her mid to late twenties, came along and rudely stood right in front of us all. That person, as if she really needed any introduction, was the woman called Wrey; not that I actually knew that at the time. No, all I knew then, was that she was an inconsiderate bitch, who judging by her general demeanour and geometric good looks of acute angles and deep set, piecing blue eyes, was well used to getting her own way.

Though why I should make such a point of saying that, I really don't know, as practically everyone I ever associated with seemed to get their own way. Or to put it more precisely: everyone I ever knew seemed to get whatever they wanted and whenever they asked for it, simply because of who they were. Still saying that, on that particular occasion and for some peculiar reason it really did annoy me. Now why that was exactly, I wouldn’t like to say; but it may have had something to do with the way she looked to be really enjoying puffing away at her cigarette when I, and everybody else I knew, was in a strictly ‘No Smoking’ frame of mind. Also, I could just tell by the way she stood, that she was one of those subversives who looked to be acting within the law, but actually she wasn’t. And that was even more infuriating, because I and everybody else knew she was not only getting away with it but laughing at us all as she did it. Take for example the cigarette she was smoking, I knew, the same as everyone else I bet, that really it was a genuine, expensive, tobacco filled carcinogenic producing fag, thinly disguised as a harmless vapeing e-cigarette. Just like the ones that had recently come onto the market and were advertised as smelling, tasting and looking just like the real thing! Or maybe the real reason she annoyed me, was because she, along with my ‘best friend’ Martine, epitomised that one thing I could never be no matter how hard I wished.

Now before I describe what that very thing was, I think I would do best to clarify one important point first. That being: because everyone I ever knew was by dint of birth, already a fully paid up member of a particularly privileged section of society that had already had all its playing fields supposedly levelled; due in part to everyone’s relative wealth, superior education and family connections. Other methods of defining one’s superiority in relation to others had to be somehow surreptitiously reintroduced into the game. And the way that was most easily done, was of course