Took a lot of heat on Monday for writing that Spring Awakening has “often terrible lyrics, anachronistic music and lyrics, and the non-essential use of hand-mikes.”

Well, if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a critic who can’t take criticism. We dish it out; we should be strong enough to suffer the slings and arrows when they come our way. And plenty of unfavorable e-mails certainly crammed my e-mailbox.

Let’s take “anachronistic music and lyrics” first. To me, the style and tone of a musical should be established by where and when it’s set. Spring Awakening freely admits in the playbill “The play is set in a provincial German town in the 1890s.” Susan Hilferty’s excellent costumes sure support that time and place. So why does lyricist Steven Sater have Moritz sing, “I don’t do sadness. So been there” — two 21st century phrases that hadn’t been coined 100-plus years ago? I even question “Flip on a switch,” for I doubt that these kids routinely had electricity or switches to flip in their homes. What’s more, the real music that was heard in 1890’s Germany bears no relationship to what Duncan Sheik wrote.

I’m not saying that Sheik didn’t write good music as music goes. He indeed did, as Spring Awakening’s cast album shows. But when I think of 1890s Germany, that’s not the sound I expect to hear.

Well, you say, what about Superstar, Godspell, Joseph, and Pippin? The style of music their composers chose doesn’t fit their eras, either. Granted — and while this may sound like a rationalization, the difference for me is that I don’t know what music sounded like in Biblical times or during the reign of Charlemagne. But I have a sense of what 1890’s Germany sounds like, because much music has survived from that period, and I’ve heard quite a bit of it.

Ah, you could say, but the writers’ point is that kids today are no different from kids of yesteryear, and THAT justifies a rock score. I understand the argument; I just prefer what Jonathan Larson did with Rent. He, too, took a story that was written in the 1890’s – La Boheme – and while he wrote a rock score for it, he set it in the present day. If Spring Awakening's playbill said, “The play is set in a provincial American town in the 2000’s,” you wouldn’t have heard a peep out of me about the music.

I still, however, would have railed about the Sater’s “often terrible” lyrics. Note that Larson wrote lyrics with real craft, with close-to-100% accurate rhymes and accent stresses. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have got that congratulatory phone call from Stephen Sondheim (the one we heard on the answering machine at the end of tick, tick ... BOOM!).

I went through Spring Awakening’s CD booklet and examined the printed lyrics for incorrect rhymes. I found 59 of them. 59! I suspect that Sondheim, Hammerstein, Schwartz, and Ahrens — to cite four different quality lyricists from four distinctly different eras — haven’t written nearly that many in all their shows combined.

Sater feels that if the vowel sound is right, that’s close enough. So we have “on/wrong,” “like/nice,” “fine/time,” and “this/lips” — not to be confused with “this/fist.” Sater sometimes hooks a word with an “s” (glows) with one without an “s” (go). They’re all so-near-yet-so-far, but some are way off: “idol/Bible,” “wound/bruise,” “jump/come.” I suspect Sater thinks that some do rhyme when they don’t, such as “with them/wisdom” and “starlight/dark night.” (I’ll spare you the other 47, but invite you to read the booklet.)

Okay, you say, but isn’t the IDEA behind a song more important than the craft? If I may cast my three electoral votes, I say that no matter how great the ideas (and, really, are Sater’s that great?) they’re undermined by lousy craft. Must we give Sater a Tony and tell every songwriter out there that craft doesn’t matter, that you can do sloppy and work, and it’ll be good enough?

I’m also reminded of something said by Edward Kleban, the Tony and Pulitzer Prize-winning lyricist of A Chorus Line who’d never consider writing a false rhyme. Kleban claimed that while an audience may not know the rules of lyric-writing, they have a harder time understanding the lyrics of a song if they don’t have perfect rhymes and right stresses to guide them. When that happens, they wind up feeling alienated from the show. Hmmm, could THIS be a reason why Spring Awakening isn’t a box-office smash — because too many attendees didn’t quite catch what the characters are singing, couldn’t get behind the show 100%, and haven’t recommended it to their friends and relatives? I know this sounds like quite a stretch, but it’s a theory I don’t mind entertaining.

In response to my writing that there’s a “non-essential use of hand-mikes,” six readers said, “You just don’t get it” — a dismissive and derisive expression that is constantly used when one doesn’t agree with someone. I DO believe I did “get” the concept – that when the kids pulled mikes out of their pockets and sang, they were expressing their innermost thoughts. Yes, I got it. I just don’t like it.

I suspect the use of mikes was first and foremost an attempt to make Spring Awakening resemble a rock concert. I say, render unto rock concerts the things that are rock concerts, and to theater the things that are theater. There are theatergoers who wish that musicals had little or NO amplification. Now Spring Awakening is suggesting that the use of mikes shouldn’t be a barrier to a show set in a pre-microphone period.

And notice the word I used: “non-essential.” Nobody’s going to convince me that had the Spring Awakening creators NOT opted for the mikes that even the staunchest of its fans would have missed them – or even thought of them. Say what you will, pulling mikes out of inside jacket pockets is NOT “essential” to the show. I can’t see where the musical would have lost anything had this not happened.

Call me traditional, if you will. I’ll take it as a compliment.

Mind you, I have no problem with the performances of Spring Awakening’s wonderful cast. I went back to see the show for the third time last week — I always give shows extra chances to see if my opinion will change for the better — and was thrilled to find that every kid is still giving his all. “Oh,” said one of my best friends when I told him that. “You mean they’re all still overacting wildly?” A case could be made for that, but I admire every performer on that stage, and will whoop and holler every time any one of them gets any kind of award in these next days and weeks.

And, as contradictory as this sounds, I’m ultimately glad that Spring Awakening has so many fans who will duel to the death with anyone who doesn’t share their views. If it’s bringing thousands of people plenty of pleasure, great. I’d much rather people have a good time than agree with me.

What’s more, such passion for a musical is a wonderful thing for people to have. I’ve had it in the past for some shows, have it in the present for others, and hope to have it many more times in the future. But if future writers take their lead from Spring Awakening as carte blanche to offer often terrible lyrics, anachronistic music and lyrics, and a non-essential use of hand-mikes, I know I won’t.