On Reviewing

“Professional reviewers read so many bad books in the course of duty that they get an unhealthy craving for arresting phrases.”

(Evelyn Waugh)

“Reviewers, with some rare exceptions, are a most stupid and malignant race.”

(Percy Bysshe Shelley)

I took up reviewing books a couple of years ago now, and I still do it. My theory is that it helps me become a better writer. It’s a fraught occupation: at the time, my father offered a Kevlar vest. My mother came out with ‘What, so now you’re a critic?’ Although she is neither Jewish nor from New York, she sounded that way to me. I replied with hauteur ‘No, a reviewer’. My high dudgeon came from a dim memory of a ‘critic’ being defined somewhere as ‘a bundle of opinions and prejudices all tightly clustered together around an [insert crude vernacular for fundamental orifice here]’.

I scurried to the OED to assure myself that ‘reviewer’ does not come from any French or Latin word remotely connected with the sphincter or lower intestine. Whilst reassured on that count, I did discover that the words ‘critic’ and ‘reviewer’ are used interchangeably. This is a shame, because I like to think of the reviewer as the younger cousin of the critic, someone who hasn’t completely lost their love for humanity; the reviewer is a guide, the critic is the mother you can never please. Then again, Nabokov compared reviewers to ‘people who move their lips when reading’. On the upside, Milan Kundera said ‘Let us consider the critic, therefore, as a discoverer of discoveries’. Thus, with my cognitive dissonance in tatters, I took my first review copy and walked to a quiet, sunny corner, armed only with a fluoro pen and a mild sense of trepidation.         

Sitting there, pen poised, I thought ‘What am I supposed to do?’ Easy answer: firstly, I’m telling potential readers what the story is about, using the tried and true compass points of who, what, when, where, how and why, without giving away the ending. The second half of the answer is more problematic: in my opinion has the author written well? Has s/he achieved whatever the jacket blurb claims? What are the book’s strengths and weaknesses? Does it have broad appeal or is it for diehard fans only? In the end, I’m making a judgment call on someone else’s work.

 Let me say that I always come to a book with an awareness of what a huge endeavour writing is: you get all the words in the right place, you send your book out into the world, hopefully to find an agent and a publisher. Finally, it makes its first public appearance. It’s your baby, and the fact of the matter is that someone is always going to think your baby is ugly. As a writer, reader, and reviewer, I keep two things in the back of my mind: a respect for the investment of time, tears, sweat and self; and the words of Mel Brooks, ‘And of course, with the birth of the artist came the inevitable afterbirth – the critic’.

My purpose in reviewing is not to spitefully tear apart someone’s magnum opus. I am, however, expected to assess it, to guide others who might want to purchase it, because a book is not only a work of art, it is, whether we like the idea or not, a product.

In Australia, books are expensive compared to the US – a book that over there might cost the equivalent of AU$10, may sell for three to four times that in the Land of Oz. Expect to pay at least $20 for an ordinary paperback. A trade paperback costs upwards of $30 – money that could be spent on a bottle of good wine, two bottles of passable wine, a Stella McCartney scarf, or another, possibly better, book. Hardcovers are almost prohibitively expensive – under these circumstances, a book is an investment. Therefore, beyond the story itself, a book will be judged on how it is presented. Sloppy editing or proofreading, untidy typesetting, poor quality paper, will all cause someone who has parted with hard-earned cash to experience some serious post-purchase regret, or to become incandescent with rage.

A book from a well-known author that is poorly edited is a sin. It suggests that either the author or her/his publisher has no respect for readers, that the dominant thought is ‘Hey, they’ll buy this coz of the name, so we’ll still make a bundle’. People shell out cash in the hope of a good read, not because they are feeling benevolent. If an author, no matter what her/his profile, cannot be bothered to proof-read their product before it goes on show, why would anyone bother to pay for it?

Herein lies a lesson for the writer: if your editor and/or proof-reader allow your book to go forth into the world of print without due care and attention, then you are ill-served by these people. If, as a writer, you are happy to let something less than perfect have your name emblazoned on the cover, you are an idiot. Finally, if you are the sort of writer who thinks no one should be allowed to edit your work because (a) it’s yours, and/or (b) you believe you are a genius, then you are an imbecile. No-one’s work is so perfect that it cannot be helped along by the gimlet eye of an experienced editor – the hardest thing in the world is to find your own spelling mistakes. A sentence that makes perfect sense to you (because you know what you mean to say) may leave readers scratching their heads and asking, ‘He did what with a melon?’ For proof of this, just pick up J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince, or John Irving’s Until I Find You, or anything by Dan Brown. Wasn’t Norman Mailer’s The Castle in the Forest nominated for the worst sex scene award? Editing is essential, even for the greats.

Film critic Pauline Kael notes: ‘In the arts, the critic is the only independent source of information. The rest is advertising.’ I get a review copy for free – it’s not exactly payola (bookola?) and it’s not going to purchase a favourable review. If the book gets a good review, then sure, you can use it to promote your book, but the culture of professional reviewing is one in which the author and their agents – publishers, marketing people, etc – have no real say as to how a book will be reviewed.

Ultimately, a review should be nothing more than a guide for potential readers. There is always freedom of choice – if someone really wants to read a certain book, then nothing a reviewer and/or critic says will stop them. Welsh poet Arthur Symons wrote, ‘What we ask of [the critic] is that he should find out for us more than we can find out for ourselves’. Hopefully this balances out Disraeli’s ‘You know who critics are? The men who have failed in literature and art.’ In an ideal world, all books would be at least small miracles; alas, it’s not an ideal world. If they serve no other useful function, with luck the reviewer/critic can help keep post-purchase regret to a minimum.

All quotes snurched from: http://www.goldfishpublishers.com/GPRevQuotes.html

(This originally appeared as “The Review or Not Review” in Writing Queensland October 2007)