Perhaps creativity is no longer a motive for objective critical writing, nor a positive driving force for some critics, as social, cultural, and economic changes have imposed (literatures) based on the idea of ​​criticism in exchange for (benefit and be benefited). If there are critics who ask writers for financial or moral benefits, then some writers take the initiative to offer offers to those who write about them, (each type has its price) an article, research, or book. This amazes our guests, who confirmed that everyone disapproves of and condemns such a trend, but they see it as a phenomenon of the need for money and fame in our Arab world and perhaps in non-Arab societies and circles. Perhaps the participants in this issue have put the dots on the letters.

Poet Abdulrahman Moukly asserts that intellectuals and poets can barely afford to publish their work, deeming the idea of ​​paying a writer to write about them a farce. Moukly stated, "I'm better off enjoying my own money, and there are many paths to fame if that's my goal." Novelist Fatima Al-Nahidh rejected this approach, saying, "No. I don't accept it. A writer's pride in, indeed their respect for, their work prevents them from even discussing this matter." She explained her rejection by stating that it diminishes the value of writing, reducing it to a commodity for sale. Al-Nahidh added, "If the writing is good and worthwhile, it will inevitably find its own voice and find someone to write about it with a conscience free from any material greed. And even if no one will write, the text will still retain its own dignity and that of its author." She emphasized that she has never experienced such a thing and doesn't believe she ever will. I believe that the creator himself is the one who sets the limits in the end. I don't think anyone would dare to ask him for money in exchange for writing about his works, unless there is a loophole through which he can penetrate, such as if his writing is unconvincing or not good, or if its author is not convinced of it, so he weakens and accepts compromise. She emphasized that no matter how much she doubts her works and thinks they are less than what she aspired to, she will not pay even if her experience is not addressed critically. She asked: Does hiring a literary editor and a proofreader fall under this approach? She answers: We give the editor who helped us to purify the works from grammatical and linguistic errors.

Poet Ahmed Al-Sayed Atif believes that every writer would answer the question with "no," but some of them accept payment or offer a service in exchange for a service. He attributes this trend to the materialistic wave sweeping through life and turning the cultural scene into a market. He points out that in the pre-commodification era, a single article in a newspaper or an interview was enough to achieve publicity and satisfy the vanity of the audience. However, with the rise of social media and the diminished role of newspapers and television, some resorted to paying writers, especially from abroad, to write about their work, which they consider permissible marketing that grants them recognition and draws people's attention to them. Readers will not ask them whether they paid or not. He notes that mutual support takes the place of payment: an evening for an evening, and a service for a service.

The writer Dr. Khaled Khodari made no secret of the matter, saying, “I know writers who resort to this method: commissioning people to write about their experiences or to conduct critical studies of their writings. Others instruct people to do this, then compile what has been written about them, including newspaper articles, and publish it in a book at their own expense.” He believes that those who adopt this approach seek fame, a sense of importance, and self-glorification, which he considers “false glory,” as it is unacceptable for a true artist. He argues that a creative work, if it doesn't achieve a strong presence on its own, has no value. He emphasizes that “the business of culture” arises from the desire to work for money and secure a livelihood. He explained that he received calls from a writer and a critic who offered to write about his short stories for a fee, which he declined. A third person offered to include his name in an encyclopedia of Gulf writers. He added, “I believe that such behavior is unbecoming of a true writer.”.

Poet Khaled Qammash said, “I never even considered doing such a thing. It’s like begging for light and stealing fire from others’ hearths.” He expressed his gratitude to anyone interested in writing about his literary experience if they find something that resonates with their interests or appeals to their artistic taste. He explained that the late writer Mohammed Al-Dhafeeri wrote about his poetic experience in his critical book, “The Revolution of the Popular Poem,” without his knowledge, and that the writer Issa Al-Mazmoumi touched upon some aspects of his poetic experience in his book, “Me and After Me the Flood,” also without his prior knowledge. He welcomed anyone who writes about him with love and conviction, far removed from opportunism and the pursuit of false fame. He emphasized that the Arab literary scene in general is not free from such unethical practices and from wordsmiths with tainted consciences. He noted that he knows many famous names because of books, studies, and university theses written about their flimsy or empty poetic or literary experiences. He pointed out that the froth will dissipate, while what benefits people will remain in the hearts of the people. Normal people.

Dr. Abeer Sharara affirms that the challenges facing artistic creative works are numerous, including finding a balance between commercial value on the one hand, and the essence of originality on the other, so that culture does not lose its true identity. Sharara said: “I absolutely refuse to pay money to obtain an evaluation that is not appropriate.” She believes that some critics may sometimes be forced to go with the flow to suit economic changes or dominant companies, but good writing, a good reputation, and trust between the creator and the audience impose themselves first and foremost. She considered marketing mechanisms for creative works an urgent need, especially in the age of speed, which becomes an additional incentive to express oneself in new and innovative ways. She added that the debate continues about the needs of the market and what the creator deems appropriate, which leads to a state of confusion and disarray. She hopes that the coming years will resolve the debate, so that we know what the market wants from us

Meanwhile, poet Hassan Al-Qarni confirmed that he had heard about it but had not experienced it, and said, “I need time, perhaps a lifetime, to believe it.”.

He added, "I don't know... perhaps this reflects the great void that pervades literature in its general sense, and perhaps this practice will become commonplace over time, given the commodification and commercialization of the literary scene in general." He pointed out that attending a literary event requires you to pay for a chair, a cup of coffee, and a bottle of water, because the whole thing is a business transaction. He emphasized that no critic has written about his experience, except for a few articles here and there from fellow critics, noting that our prominent figures are still clinging to the experiences of deceased writers they witnessed, and no one bothers to read about an experience that no one has written about, because it adds nothing to their own career, according to their motives and status; or perhaps they are waiting for something in return; who knows? he said.

Letters wearing a tie and a critic who "loves secrecy"!

The critic Dr. Yahya Abdel Latif revived the proverb that says, “Livelihood loves secrecy.” Secrecy is the equivalent of what is said in our dialect, “Be quick and flexible,” and it means speed of accomplishment and flexibility. It seems to me that this proverb applies to cultural life, as the poet and his brother the critic “want to make a living,” and who does not want to make a living and enjoy sweets?

He asked: Why did you single out the critic specifically? He answered: Because he is the one who floods the book market with studies whose purpose is to make a living. There are critics who write paid flattery, and there are critics who write studies about writers who have prestige and status, such as being an official in some institution, so that perhaps they will gain favor from here and there.

He added: I remember once reading the title of a study (The Significance of Prepositions in So-and-So’s Poetry - A Stylistic Approach) and I exclaimed: Do the prepositions in So-and-So’s poetry have different meanings than the prepositions in any literary text? Are they prepositions that wear a tie, for example, and have gotten rid of the “prepositional complex”? Or is there something more to it than meets the eye, and (let’s not play dumb)!

He expressed surprise that the poet under study was a young man whose talent had not yet fully matured, and whose experience did not surpass the prevailing norms in any way that distinguished him—a poet like any other, but whose position was not like any other! He said: Believe me, some critical studies have become easier than (boiling an egg). I tried writing critical articles about poets who were famous for the poor quality of their poetry, and I succeeded. I realized that the matter has no fixed rules. For example, I will write a critical digression on a verse by Ibn Sudun, a poet from the ninth century AH, who was known for the poor quality of his poetry:

The great poet Ibn Sudun says:

It's as if we are surrounded by water – a group of people sitting with water around them

I say: “This verse points to a profound existential anxiety embodied in water as a semiotic sign, and the repetition of the word ‘around’ emphasizes the connection between the collective self and natural phenomena.” The first water is the water of life, while the second is a metaphorical water, referring to the water of pleasure. The verse begins by affirming unity through the attached pronoun ‘us,’ but in the second hemistich, it addresses the collective self in the third person, using the word ‘people,’ indicating a rebellion against the group and a shift towards a singular, subjective perspective.

The buffoonery is over, but if you look into what is printed in critical books, you will find similar talk about poets weaker than Ibn Sudun, and if you look, you will find more than what I said.