David Gerrold is the author of numerous books, movie screenplays and Teleplays. His most notable is Star Trek's The Trouble with Tribbles.
Back in the Cretaceous days of my misspent youth, I read the
review columns in the magazines. In those days, reviewers included Theodore
Sturgeon, James Blish, Thomas Easton, Damon Knight, and others who had proven
their way around a short story, a novella, and even the occasional novel. So
reading the review columns was not only an insight into whether or not a story
worked, it was also an opportunity to discover insights about writing from
actual writers.
Ahh, those were the days.
Fanzine reviewers were another realm entirely. Some were
brilliant, some were methodical, and some were ... problematic. Let's leave it
at that.
Today, we have the blogosphere, the commentariat, and the
various special-interest sites that encourage comment threads ...
Oboy.
As I have said elsewhere, there are only three questions a
reviewer needs to answer:
1) What was the author trying to do?
2) How well did he do it?
3) Was it worth doing in the first place?
That's it. Example: 1) In "Starship Troopers"
Robert A. Heinlein demonstrates the obligation of the individual to the society
in which he lives. If you benefit from that society, you have a corresponding
responsibility to serve it. Heinlein uses an alien threat as the mechanism for
a young man's journey through the military, but the meat of the story are the
lessons he learns along the way. 2) Heinlein writes with military precision,
moving the story forward at a machine-gun pace. He makes his points directly,
without subtlety, but also without being obnoxious about them. It is one of his
better-written tales. 3) Heinlein wrote this book as a reaction to what he saw
as excessive liberal beliefs. This is his answer to the disarmament and peace
movements. As unpopular as military fiction might be to those who dream of a
world without war, Heinlein uses an alien war to make a point that is
well-worth considering: What is the responsibility of the individual to the
hive? What is the responsibility of the individual to the community? Worth
reading.
Now, that's a review that touches all three points. And it
provides enough information for the reader to decide whether or not they want
to read the book.
A critic is different than a reviewer -- this is something
some amateur reviewers miss, they think they are also critics.
The job of the critic is to analyze from a meta-position.
Example:
Although some reviewers have pointed to "Starship
Troopers" as a justification for Fascism, it isn't. It's an unsubtle
glorification of the military. Because Heinlein writes so well, he makes war
look fun--we do not see the shattered bodies of young men, we do not see the
bloody amputations and the post-traumatic stress disorder, not in this book.
Yes, there are deaths, but they are kept offstage. What is more disturbing, however,
is that Heinlein has stacked the deck. (Again.) By putting his hero into a war
against mindless alien insects, he justifies the extinction of that whole
species. It's either them or us. There's no middle ground. It would be a lot
harder to make the same point if the enemies were human beings — just like us.
Right.
Now, having prefaced the rest of this rant with some
examples, here's the point I set out to make.
Too many amateur reviewers think they are critis. Worse than
that, too many amateur reviewers seem to be operating with a fundamental
disrespect for the subject at hand. Or, let me say it another way — too many
amateur reviewers are operating from a presumed superiority to the author, as
if every book put before them must be judged — not evaluated as a reading
experience, but judged within the context of the reviewer's own specific
cultural agenda, biases, perceptions, beliefs, prejudices, and political
philosophy.
Now, let me dial that back a notch. It is not unfair for a
black reviewer to discuss how an author has dealt with racial issues. It is not
unfair for a person who is LGBTQ+ to analyze how an author has dealt with
LGBTQ+ issues. It is not unfair for female reviewers to examine the implied
misogyny in a work, nor is it unfair for disabled reviewers to discuss the
various tropes in stories about disability. If one has a vested interest in how
one's cultura identity is portrayed in popular entertainments, it's fair to
point this out. It's also fair to indicate that. (Example: "As a gay man,
I found The Boys In The Band a well-produced but depressing exercise, when it
first came out and again on subsequent rewatchings.")
But just as it is important for the reviewer to treat the
work with respect (or don't review it at all), it is equally important for the
critic to discuss the ambition of the work without using it as a platform for
the critic's agenda or for an ad hominem attack on the author. The responsible
critic separates the author from the work, because criticism, constructive or
otherwise, is always about the work.
This is not to say that Lovecraft, Rowling, Card, and others
should be immune to public examination — but that's a different conversation
than the discussion of the work. Those are two separate discussions and should
not be confabulated — unless, of course, one is specifically examining how an
author's personal views show up in the work, but my experience with that
particular brand of literary analysis suggests that can be a foolish endeavor,
especially when one cherry-picks the works to prove a philosophical point.
I've been fortunate enough to know a great many authors
whose works informed my childhood and shaped my adolescence, and who were role
models for great genre writing — I have learned to admire most, I have also
learned to recognize the enormous chasm that exists between every author and
what finally shows up on the printed page.
For instance, as much as I loved Theodore Sturgeon's lyrical
writing, as much as I admired him as a brilliant mentor, as much as I sat in awe
when he delivered his great speeches, "Ask The Next Question" and
"I Won't Have It," as much as he is well-regarded as a literary giant
— my personal experience with the man, Ted, was tainted by several of his
less-admirable behaviors. (I am not alone in that.)
I could say a similar thing about Harlan Ellison. As much as
I admired and loved him like the big brother I always wanted — over time, I
learned to see how his personal passion informed his writing. He was
magnificent, ground-breaking, remarkable, and one of the people who set the
standard of excellence. I also learned to see how his personal passion animated
him as a man, sometimes in admirable ways, and sometimes in ways that were ...
problematic. (I am not alone in that.)
The job of the reviewer, the job of the critic, especially
those who are primarily readers and have much less experience pushing,
dragging, contriving, staggering a story from page one to page last — that job
is to be a fair reporter. Where I do take issue with any reviewer or critic,
especially the amaterus, is their implied authority to sit in judgment not only
of the work, but of the author as well.
I admit, I have some bias in this.
If a reviewer/critic wants to point out where a story
doesn't work, where I might have stumbled, I can learn something from that.
But if that same blogger also points out what a flawed human
being I am — i already know that, you don't have to tell me, but when that
essay is published online, the intention is no longer about examining the work
in question, it's about impeaching the credibility of the author. It becomes a
personal attack with the intention of hurting the author's reputation. (I
believe that if an author wants to hurt their reputation, they can do it
themselves — and I can name three living authors who have done enormous damage
to their reputations by making assertions that are ignorant, malicious, and
polarizing. There are probably many others.)
The job of the reviewer/critic is to take their enthusiasm
for the genre and treat their subjects with respect, if not affection.
But as I said above, I'm biased. Your mileage may vary.
2 comments:
Great post.
My book reviews are pretty darn shallow. I just talk about whether I liked the book and maybe a little bit why. I try to not review books I don't like, what's the point in that although I have pointed out when things seem to be going downhill.
I'm the same wi, Yogi.
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