From Leo Robson at The Guardian:
The death of criticism, frequently announced in recent months, has prompted numerous autopsies but few acts of mourning. There has been more energy expended on blaming the blog than defending the victim, the implication being that while everyone is aware that criticism has long existed, no-one cares much for it one way or the other.
And why would they? After all, the critic is nothing more than a legless man who teaches running, a eunuch in a harem, a man who knows the way but can’t drive the car. As Sibelius observed, no-one ever erected a statue to a critic.