There's an interesting article on Salon.com in which Louis Bayard and Laura Miller discuss the current state of literary criticism, in response to a recent book on the subject, "The Death of the Critic" by Ronan McDonald.
"When I think about the critics I love the most," says Bayard, "they're not necessarily the ones I agree with, they're the ones I'd like to date. I argue with them, but when they're gone, their music is still bopping around in my brain. Many years ago, Susan Sontag, in 'Against Interpretation,' argued for 'an erotics of art.' Is it time now for an erotics of criticism? Instead of bemoaning the decline of literature, should we be doing a better job of showing people what they're missing: the excitement of unexpected insights, the thrill of new voices, the sex of ideas? That sounds like a lot more fun than figuring out which fiefdom we're going to defend in the Theory Wars."