I just finished my first post-minimalistic piece in four movements for string quartet, soprano, piano, and electronics. My first long-form composition. I am full with excitement. I submit the work to the Watchers of Contemporary Music for approval. Three anonymous reviewers’ comments come back. The first one is negative. The piece is far too long, dull, and repetitive. Rejection recommended. The second one is somewhat more positive but requests replacing the soprano with a trumpet and moving the second section to the end of the piece. The third one is neutral. It also recommends shortening and less prominent use of electronics. The premiere has been cancelled. I’m now staring at the score, puzzled, frustrated, demoralized… 

After two years of work, my first fantasy novel is finally finished. All the different threads of the story finally converging into a satisfying climax, open-ended and thought-provoking. I submit the work to the Watchers of Fiction Literature  for approval. Comments from three anonymous reviewers are returned. The first one recommends rejection. This is not a work of fiction, it reads, as it’s partly based on a true story. The second, more positive, suggests a different ending and requests changing the title. The third one has very little to say, some change of language, but no enthusiasm. The work is rejected and will not be printed. I’m now looking at the title page, hating myself… 

Today I gave the final touch to the “blue” painting. I feel elated. An abstract work of blue and white forms, with convergent lines and hidden silhouettes that seem to be anticipating better times to come. It’s a large work, 3 times 4 metres. Huge. I submit it to the Watchers of Abstract Painting for approval. I get comments from three anonymous (they are always anonymous) reviewers. The first one is negative. Too pretentious and underwhelming. The verdict is rejection. The second one, more positive, suggests reducing the size and requests the addition of thin red lines outlining some of the blue and white forms. The third one concludes lukewarmly that, although a promising beginning, the concept needs refinement. The vernissage gets cancelled. Back at the atelier, I empty all the blue and white painting in the trash and reach for something to calm me down in the wine cooler… 

Absurd? Check. Ridiculous? Check. Grotesque? Also check. Sadly, this exactly what happens in the sciences. Exactly this.