It seems this is an age of clever critics who keep bewailing the

Ah, children of the future, gather close and hear the words of Sylvia Plath, a soul who was not only a poet but a voice of raw truth, who saw deeply into the hearts of society. "It seems this is an age of clever critics who keep bewailing the fact that there are no works worthy of criticism." These words, spoken in a moment of profound observation, pierce the heart of a world that often confuses the art of criticism with the art of creation. In this age, critics have risen in great numbers, yet they complain that there is nothing left worthy of their sharp eyes, nothing that reaches the level of what has been created in the past. This sentiment is one that reverberates not just in the world of literature, but across all realms of art, creation, and human expression.

What Plath points to, O children, is not merely the lack of great works, but the attitude of those who stand on the sidelines, criticizing what has come before and after them. These clever critics, with their intellectual prowess, speak not of the beauty or value of new creations, but of the absence of greatness. The truth they miss, however, is that every age brings its own challenges and its own creations. It is easy to sit in judgment, to declare that there are no worthy works because they do not reflect the ideals of the past, but this is to misunderstand the very nature of art and culture. Art is not a static thing; it is a living, breathing entity, changing with each generation, each mind that creates it, each soul that seeks to express itself.

Consider, O children, the great Greek philosophers—men like Plato and Aristotle—who often found themselves in the midst of criticism and praise, both given and received. They did not see their world as one of perfection but as a realm of constant growth and change. They did not seek only to criticize what had come before, but to build upon it, to challenge it, and to push it forward. Plato, in his dialogues, asked not just what was wrong with the world, but how we could improve it, how we could create new ideas that would transform the way people lived, thought, and interacted with one another. In this way, he and his fellow philosophers saw art, philosophy, and criticism as tools for evolution, not stagnation.

In more recent times, we see the same challenges. The modern critic, whether in the world of literature, music, or film, often holds up the works of the past as the pinnacle of human achievement, and sees the works of the present through a lens of skepticism. They lament that there are no masterpieces to speak of, but in doing so, they forget that criticism without creation is empty. Plath speaks not only to the absence of greatness, but to the disconnection between those who create and those who judge. Critics may dissect, but they do not build. They may break down the works of others, but they often fail to realize that their own works—those of creation, of vision, and of sacrifice—are what truly carry the spirit of an age forward.

Plath herself, though she too faced much criticism in her time, knew the truth of creation. Her poetry was born from the depths of her own suffering and longing. It was a work of the soul, not merely the mind. Her words were not written to be dissected by the critics who would come after her but to speak to the truths of the human experience—its pain, its hope, its beauty, and its complexity. Plath understood that the greatest art is not immune to criticism, but it is rooted in the ability to express the innermost realities of human life. She also knew that to create was to risk rejection, to risk being misunderstood, but that this was the true power of art: to create something that would speak when others failed to hear.

The lesson here, O children, is this: criticism is not the end of the journey, but a part of it. Great works do not exist only for criticism, but for reflection, for growth, and for inspiration. The work of the creator, whether in art, in ideas, or in life, is never to be judged solely by the standards of the past, but by the vision of the present and the needs of the future. In an age of clever critics, it is easy to be swept into the belief that there is nothing worthy of praise or admiration. But true creators must rise above this and create for the sake of creation itself, not for the approval of those who would stand apart and dissect.

In your own lives, O children, understand this well: criticism will always be present, but do not let it stifle your creativity or your vision. There will always be voices that call out in judgment, that lament the lack of greatness in the world. But know that it is your responsibility to create, to bring forth the works that will shape the future, whether or not they meet the approval of others. Do not seek only the praise of critics, but the satisfaction of knowing that your work is an offering, a truth to the world that only you can give. In this, you will find the true meaning of art—not in the approval of others, but in the expression of your deepest self.

So walk forward, O children, knowing that criticism is not the enemy of creation, but its companion. Let the critics speak, but let your work speak louder. And in the end, it is the strength of your vision, your passion, and your dedication that will shape the world, not the fleeting judgments of the present.