The tone of I. A. Richards' writings on language and literature is so striking, so obtrusive, that the reader cannot help picturing the author as he reads: the brash, impatient, perhaps glib, but always clearheaded iconoclast behind such works as Principles of Literary Criticism (1924) and Science and Poetry (1926); the wise, unassuming, somewhat vague guide behind the essays in Speculative Instruments (1955). Without the advantage of Richards' own discussion of tone …, the reader might wonder whether the author underwent severe alterations in personality between writing the earlier and the later works; with it in mind, he need only assume that Richards sensed a change in his audience which demanded a different stance. In any event, tone remains perhaps the most memorable feature of Richards' writings, and the one which will ensure their continuing appeal.

Nevertheless, the obtrusiveness of his style is unfortunate, for it is partly to this that we can attribute the dearth of supporters for Richards. A good indication that his views on literature are rarely taken as seriously today as they should be is his widespread reputation as one of the founders of the New Criticism, that is, as one who has had a very important influence on that critical movement. This portrayal of Richards suggests that his work is primarily of historic interest, rather than of contemporary significance, a suggestion born out in the historic emphasis of recent critical writing on his works…. Any judgment concerning the popularity of a writer is bound to be largely subjective, but I should say that most students of English criticism have a rather negative view of the contemporary value of Richards' theory of literature.

This is not entirely attributable to the tone of his writings; in part it stems from the confusing fluctuation in his point of view. Nevertheless, Richards' style of writing is the first barrier which the reader encounters. The cocky confidence in "science" of his early works doubtless had a certain positive shock value. Talk of such things as "impulses," "neurology," and "psychological contexts" helped put an end to windy speculations about the poet and the universe then still fashionable in criticism. But now, more than four decades later, such jolts are no longer necessary, and the belligerence of the early works, though still refreshing, serves only to distort Richards' meaning. On the other hand, the questioning indecisiveness of the later works was never very effective. To suggest many possible avenues of inquiry rather than to assert a single interpretation is an extremely effective method of teaching poetry, as shown by the widespread imitation of Practical Criticism [1929], where this "protocol" approach is adopted. A questioning approach, however, when used in the development of theories concerning language and literature (a piece in Speculative Instruments consists entirely of questions) has never appealed to more than a few. The later works do have a special flavor, but this probably has alienated more readers than it has attracted; and, more to the point, it has again managed to obscure what Richards is trying to say.

In addition to the distorted tone of his writings, I have mentioned a second cause for Richards' current unpopularity: his confusing fluctuation in point of view. In common with many other literary theorists, Richards tends to conflate the diverse interests of different individuals concerned with literature—the aesthetician, the critic, the reader, and the moralist. Thus, even where the style is felicitous, Richards outlines a disappointingly unclear literary theory.

Despite these weaknesses of Richards' writings, I have long been convinced that he proposes in them an extremely valuable and contemporary approach to literature. (pp. v-vii)