The hunting of the snark
I heard an interview on NPR a week or so ago with David Denby, author of the new book, Snark. My ears immediately perked up as I have, on occasion, been described as snarky (when I wasn’t being called a smart-ass). Denby maintained snark was undermining discourse, particularly on the Internet, where one can be anonymous.
Do I agree with Denby’s assessment? Depends on how one defines “snark.” In the interview, the etymology of snark is not discussed thoroughly, but I’ve always assumed it’s a portmanteau of “snide remark” (and completely separate from Lewis Carroll’s mythical creation). But I think the definition goes further than just the resulting combination of those terms. For me, snark implies a sharp, observant intelligence (a definition I perhaps devised after being deemed snarky).
I love a well-crafted snarky comment. In the right hands, a quip blending astuteness, wit, and satire can crystallize the opinion of the writer and advance the conversation far better than a novel of dry, factual points. What I don’t appreciate is cruelty and banality delivered in a drive-by fashion with the goal to insult and harass. That’s not snark. That’s just being a mean-spirited snot.
Snark (good snark, not snot-snark) can call attention to the thing that no one wants to talk about without hitting listeners over the head. It’s a springboard for further conversation. Snark can beautifully illustrate the absurdities in our world without the need to ham-handedly state, “This is ridiculous.” Snarkers stick around for the discussion. Snotsters run away. Snarkers can articulate what their comments mean in a larger context. Snotsters say, “YOU SUCK. DIAF.”
Humor and wit are necessary tools for social commentary. I do not wish for snark to go away, and I do not think it’s destroying intelligent conversation. However, I would like to see a more agreed-upon definition of the word, and call out spiteful and mean commentary for what it is: just spiteful and mean.
