The Basement of Enjoyment

"Without a capacity for blaming the sterile, there can be no capacity for praising the vital. Those without a gift for criticism can't be appreciative beyond a certain point, and the point is set quite low, in the basement of enjoyment."

CLIVE JAMES
Cultural Amnesia, p. 127

One of the high points of last week's Calvin Festival of Faith and Writing for me was attending John Wilson's discussion of book reviewing. Wilson, amiable and erudite, is the editor of Books & Culture, making him both a reviewer and a master of reviewers. (His re-cap of the festival is now online.) In the session, he read an essay of Orwell's on book reviewers, then unloaded a stack of prospective volumes onto the table, explaining how he'd approach the problem of reviewing each one -- whether it should be noticed, and if so what kind of notice it should receive (and when), and to whom the review should be assigned. As an inveterate reader of reviews -- a fan of the genre, if you will -- I was in heaven. One thing was clear. In the house of reading enjoyment, Wilson is nowhere near the basement. The task of criticism is a labor of love.

This is sharply at odds with the idea of critics as a bitter lot, working out their spite at the expense of hapless authors whose only crime was to create. It also gives the lie to the notion that critics are, first and foremost, failed or frustrated artists, operating on a hatred for the success of other writers rather than a love for the written word. Wilson was quick to point out that there's little money to be made in book reviewing, especially at the entry level. The only reason to persevere is because you enjoy reading and writing about good books.

When you write a book, you hope for good reviews, realizing that in many cases you'll be lucky to receive any at all. You want praise, not criticism. So the pressure for authors to "play nice" with one another is considerable. You don't trash your friends' books in public, obviously, and you avoid criticizing anyone you happen to know (or are likely to meet).

I find myself operating more on more on these principles. I used to be quick with a critical observation, back when the possibility of being the butt of someone else's observations seemed more remote. With a book out and more to come, I've grown reticent, aware of my own vulnerability. When asked over dinner recently whether I'd liked a particular book (not written by a friend, not even by someone I'd met in person), I answered in the negative and then spent the next five minutes sputtering out qualifiers, so that by the end I'd made it sound like, no, I hadn't liked the book, but the problem was surely with me, since any reasonable person would have admired it.

In private, though, I still blame the sterile, if only to preserve my capacity for praising the vital. I'm convinced that the critical faculty is essential to reading pleasure -- that the joy grows as the "gift for criticism" is exercised. Greater knowledge breeds deeper appreciation. People who lack such knowledge -- whether writers or readers -- are like spectators at a game whose rules they understand imperfectly. When a startling play impresses the crowd, they are likewise impressed, but the subtleties of play are lost on them. The only problem with the analogy is that, when it comes to sports, such spectators rarely abandon the bleachers for the field, attempting to play. In art they often do, passing their bland, basement aesthetic on to those who know no better.

-- JMB

J. Mark Bertrand is the author of Rethinking Worldview: Learning to Think, Live, and Speak in This World (Crossway, 2007). He's also the curator of the world's leading (and perhaps only) blog devoted to the design and binding of Bibles, appropriately called BibleDesignBlog.com. He writes about his book and Christian worldview issues at RethinkingWorldview.com, and tackles the life of a literary-turned-crime-writer at Write About Now. And of course there's the mother ship: JMarkBertrand.com. Recently, his friend and future co-author Deeanne Gist spilled the beans about their upcoming project.

Comments

[Heather Goodman]

I've struggled with this issue. In Christianity, we seem to think that encouragement means "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." This may be a good rule of thumb in general, but how are we to weed good art from bad if we're not allowed to say anything?
Of course, that means I have to be the one to have the guts to say what I think.
Besides this, is the issue of what is subjective and what is objective in books. I can think a book is well-written and not like it (and vice versa). But I know that personally, I need more education on the subject (and have been pursuing it). Perhaps you could do a series on looking at books critically.

[Nicole]

What need is there to trash a novel? Someone will surely do it for us. I've learned to review the books I love, like, and and like somewhat. I admit when I'm definitely not the target audience so that if anyone reads my review, they will understand that the book was designed for people other than my kind of reader.

Many of you have read Michael Snyder's My Name Is Russell Fink. When I reviewed it I made it clear I would not pick up the book if Michael hadn't written it. I was easily able to praise his writing, his faithfulness to his quirky characters, and admit that I did not regret reading it. I tried to point it to those readers who would enjoy it.

I feel it's "fair" to point out minor weaknesses in plot, character, or pacing, but, no, this reading/writing thing is too subjective to rant on about an author's specific style of writing. Obviously someone thought it was "great" writing--at least to listen to the professionals who pushed it through pub boards.

I think a good reviewer has to "enjoy reading and writing about good books", and unless they're contracted to review a book they really don't like, they should stick to the ones they do like and give reasonable criticism to the ones they feel marginal about.

[Jeanne Damoff]

Excellent points, Mark. Tastes differ, but they can (and I believe should) also be developed. We probably all tend to take criticism too personally. If a discerning critic points out deficiencies in our writing, rather than listen and learn, we act as though he's attacking our character or dooming our potential.

Praise is more fun than criticism, but empty praise never prompted anyone to strive for excellence. I guess we all need to determine our goals. If our highest aim is to feel good about ourselves, then let's just stick gold stars on everyone's color sheet and gather 'round for snacks. If we desire to create enduring art, we probably need to let a few teachers sharpen our crayons.

[Mary E. DeMuth]

It's a struggle I've had too, particularly when I'm asked to endorse a book, which carries a fair bit of weight. I'm much more conservative about my endorsements now, because my name is attached to them. And I'm careful to endorse books that relate to what I'm writing (but not in the case of Russell Fink because I think Mike's amazing and loved his book).

Mary

[Nicole]

Jeanne, you're a true artist in probably just about everything you do and create. I would venture to say most readers will never be or aspire to be an artist. When they read, they simply want to be touched or entertained, and who can fault them for that? While I would agree that students need to be opened up to the beauty of language and the arts in general, we can't decide for them what their callings should be and how they should appreciate literature or anything else artistic. Some of them never will find that kind of creativity praiseworthy or even interesting but instead will find exquisite beauty in a mathematical formula or a previously undiscovered giant star.

And "enduring art" isn't up to man's choices or decisions or evaluations, it's ultimately up to God.

[Deborah Gyapong]

Mark, I loved the thoughtful review you did of Dave Long's novel Ezekiel's Shadow. What a privilege it would be to have that kind of wide-ranging, probing look at one's art.

You made me see things in Dave's novel that I hadn't noticed in a cursory read.

Deborah

[Christopher Fisher]

Nicole,

You said: "And 'enduring art' isn't up to man's choices or decisions or evaluations, it's ultimately up to God."

This is interesting. Could you explain a little more? I'm of the opinion that if any work of art is to "endure," it can only do so on the shoulders of its many admirers--human admirers, that is.

In what ways do you see God actively intervening in which art works endure and which ones are forgotten?

[Nicole]

(Am I in trouble again, Chris?)

I tend to use eternal-speak. You know: "What is highly valued among men is detestable in God's sight." While you might decide Rembrandt is by far the best painter, someone else will choose Van Gogh or Picasso. Same with any number of writers. I cannot conceive of their or my opinions having any more weight in deciding eternal value. I believe all art (and any other gift or talent) is supposed to honor the Lord. Those who do not know Him simply use their craft because they are compelled to create and have failed to grasp the objective of their motivation and talent and the source of its provision.

In my opinion (and I recognize it as just that), just "creating", no matter how lovely, how schooled, how magnificent, is not enough without recognizing the source of the ability and giving credit where credit is due.

Art that merely endures for the temporal existence on earth, determined by its human admirers, doesn't necessarily translate to what will endure in eternity.

[J. Mark Bertrand]

Heather -- You said, "Perhaps you could do a series on looking at books critically." I can do better than that. Chapter 8 in Rethinking Worldview is called Learning to Read, and it encapsulates my thoughts on critical reading, from a theological and an aesthetic standpoint. Reading it in tandem with Chapter 12 "Imagining the Truth: Christians and Cultural Contribution" is a one-two punch. (12 also begins with a Clive James epigram to boot.)

Nicole -- I do the same thing, as a practical matter, preferring to spend time on things I want to recommend, not things I dislike. But I think there's a problem with that "target audience" logic, because it seems to assume that nothing is really bad, it's just targeted at people with lower standards or poorer taste. I worry this reinforces the all-too-common assumption that "the reader" is less sophisticated, less intelligent than she really is, and allows marketing speak to co-opt aesthetics. That's how I perceive it, at any rate.

Of course, part of the job of an editor like Wilson is to figure out which books should be assigned to which reviewers -- specialists or generalists, fans or foes. Where there is no editor, as is the case with Amazon reviews, blogs, or blog tours, it works differently.

Jeanne -- I was interested to note that several times at Calvin, Michael Chabon referred to things his critics had written about him that (a) he agreed with, and (b) worked to change. Ideally, a thoughtful critic can contribute to the artist's work in this way. When someone takes the time to understand and think about what you've written, it means a lot, whether you ultimately concur or not.

Mary -- The endorsement dilemma! I think it's harder than the reviewer's dilemma, because with endorsements you often have friends asking, and it's hard to know how to decline when necessary. Chip wrote recently about how to handle a review request you can't accept, but I think it applies with endorsements, too. (http://chipmacgregor.typepad.com/main/2008/04/give-me-your-ti.html) Still hard, though.

Deborah -- I'm glad you mentioned that. What I did with Dave's book is my idea of what a sensitive, thorough analysis should look like. It might illustrate my ideas about critical reading to supplement what I've written in Rethinking Worldview, so here's a link for those who are interested: http://www.jmarkbertrand.com/fiction/analysis/ezekiel/index.htm. Even if you haven't read the novel, I think the discussion can be illuminating, because it's one of the few examples I can think of where an author and a critic interact about the book. (The lessons in Part 5 are applicable to most any novel, too.)

[Nicole]

"But I think there's a problem with that 'target audience' logic, because it seems to assume that nothing is really bad, it's just targeted at people with lower standards or poorer taste. I worry this reinforces the all-too-common assumption that "the reader" is less sophisticated, less intelligent than she really is, and allows marketing speak to co-opt aesthetics."

Let me amplify my personal definition of target audience. For me, I know what I prefer to read, and what I won't read. I can pretty much gauge from a brief blurb and occasional background information of the style of an author what those books are going to be. When I err and misinterpet what I "came for", ending up with a book I didn't really appreciate, I'm not going to pick the writing apart because of the topic/subject matter/plot points when I wouldn't normally seek out a book like it (i.e. specfic or fantasy). It's my mistake, and I can't judge its merits accurately with my perspective.

And, honestly, I think it's the pub boards who are perpetuating a lower standard in the reader(s), assuming one exists. Ultimately they are responsible for the final copies of books on shelves. It seems as though they have success with a few authors with a common style, and they try to clone it, assuming we all like the same thing. It would seem we should be reviewing the pub boards as much as the authors themselves.

[Heather Goodman]

Thanks, Mark. I guess I'll have to break down and buy another book. Darn.
Art and theology or themes and theology are something I've focused on for several years, but I feel the need to educate myself to be able to speak more intelligently than just, "Uh, Richard Russo good. So-and-so [you see--I don't yet have the guts] stupid."
To be quite honest (may I rant for a minute?), I'm tired of hearing the defense, "But art is subjective." There is a subjective element, to be sure. But whether or not you like Beethoven (as a man or composer), I think we'd all agree that his music is great art. Christians (as well as others, to be fair) tend to make issues of art completely subjective. With this in mind (as well as any excuse to improve my writing), I'm looking for ways to learn as much as possible about looking at books critically as an art, preferably without going back to school. At least for now. Thanks.

[Dee Stewart]

Heather, thanks I appreciate you. I also agree that writing a review isn't as subjective as it seems to be among Christian authors. (I only here this rhetoric among Christian fiction authors for some odd reason...)

I am paid to review inspirational fiction for Romantic Times Magazine, paid to write literary anaylsis of African American literary titles for Mosaic Literary Journal, gospel fiction for Gospel Today Magazine and non-fiction AA titles for Spirit Led Woman magazines. And for free I am a Christys Book Awards Judge, review for Romance in Color, Anointed Magazine, AALBC, You-name-it-I review it, and also on my blog, Christian Fiction.

I love reviews. I began as an editor of my alma mater's literary journal[Agnes Scott College,] moved onto GSU Review, Carriage Review and some other literary journals.

An editor friend got me hooked on doing commercial book reviews, and I have fallen in love with this penniless profession.:)

Needless to say, I have a discussion at Novel Journey on how to craft a decent Book Review. http://noveljourney.blogspot.com/2005/11/book-review-format-for-you-by-davidae.html

In my experience I have learned to build my book rating on a five point criteria(for RT we use a 4.5.) Each point fits an element of great storytelling: (1) character, (2) plot, (3) theme(big voice/little voice,) (4) style/flow and the last point or .5 I reserve for voice. Voice is the cherry on top for me.

When I write my reviews, however, I don't tell my readership how the book stacks based upon my point system. What I do is craft a review that a book reader can understand, then point out the flaws in a way that the book reader understands. For example. If the character's story arc falls flat. I know a reader won't understand what I mean. Instead I say that for me I couldn't get into this character. I wanted to put the book down because I didn't care if she had a happy ending. I didn't care about her at all. The reader understands that.

Now when I write a critical analysis I break those points down in detail and then show inside the book where the challenges I found are. As well as point out the best points to the book.

I wish our Christian literary circle encouraged more critical reviews and more honest book reviews. I say honest because I've heard on more than one occasion writers saying that they read a novel and didn't write the review because they didn't want to offend or hurt the Body of Christ.

That's ridiculous to me.

As I said in my response to Chip's Andrea's post about reviewing friends books reviewing and writing a novel are two different things. Writing reviews will not get you a book contract. A headache, a little pocket change, but not a novel. The only way to become a published novelist is to write a publishable novel.

[Heather Goodman]

Thanks, Dee. I'm going now to check out that Novel Journey discussion.

[Jen]

I thought Christy judges remained anonymous.