Author Topic: In the New Yorker...  (Read 4212955 times)

Offline serious crayons

  • BetterMost Moderator
  • The BetterMost 10,000 Post Club
  • *****
  • Posts: 24,094
Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #3900 on: Yesterday at 06:09:05 pm »
Having written quite a few book reviews in my career -- and somehow avoided ever using "florilegium" or "moral torque" -- I have a more positive view of criticism, particularly of literature.

Art and music, being mostly conducted in media other than words, have value as topics for critics, too, but maybe less so? Their subjects need to be seen or heard to be fully understood, while books can be quoted and described in their own medium. Book reviews are a great way to find out about books, either to decide whether you'd be interested in reading them or, in lengthy pieces like TNY's, just to learn a little about their subjects without necessarily reading the whole books.

A friend and former colleague was books editor at the paper where I worked. Just today, she was lamenting the dwindling books coverage in many papers -- most shockingly recently the Washington Post., where as I understand it they ended all reviews, including ones by their main books critic, Ron Charles, who got famous by posting funny book-related videos (here's one http://www.washingtonpost.com/video/entertainment/nick-reveals-what-really-happened-before-the-great-gatsby/2021/01/04/cd47e111-2408-4e3a-a391-53dfdacb492a_video.html). At my old paper, the guy who became books editor after my friend retired is still writing reviews but they're not hiring any freelancers to write them, as they formerly did.

My friend said she used to receive 1,000 books a month for possible reviewing! Reviewers would get a copy of their book but the rest she sold at twice-a-year sales and donated the proceeds to some reading-related organization. I would go into those sales and think, look at all these books (maybe 6,000 if my friend was accurate!) that hardly anybody will ever hear of.

Of course, there are other places to look for book information besides newspapers -- the New Yorker is one of the great ones and seems likely to be around for a while, let's hope. But newspapers were a big part of getting the word out about books, so ending reviews hurts authors as well as readers.

That said, the last book review I wrote -- on THE SIRENS? CALL: How Attention Became the World?s Most Endangered Resource, by Chris Hayes, a TV star, which Barack Obama recommended, got fewer pageviews than any other story I wrote last year. Far fewer. And pageviews are practically a religion in newspapers these days.


Offline Front-Ranger

  • BetterMost Moderator
  • The BetterMost 10,000 Post Club
  • *****
  • Posts: 31,768
  • Brokeback got us good.
Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #3901 on: Yesterday at 08:33:21 pm »
Very insightful, serious. I didn't know book reviews were an endangered species.

...a comment the author made about a book by George Eliot, which she describes as "a florilegium of instructive or consoling lines mostly wrestled from the fictive surroundings that had loaned them their vitality and moral torque."

Yes, that is a doozy of a sentence, to be sure. One wonders just what kind of a hallucinogenic the critic was on when they dreamed it up. But it does end strong. "Moral torque" is a pretty good concept.
"chewing gum and duct tape"

Offline Jeff Wrangler

  • BetterMost Supporter!
  • The BetterMost 10,000 Post Club
  • *****
  • Posts: 32,378
  • "He somebody you cowboy'd with?"
Re: In the New Yorker...
« Reply #3902 on: Yesterday at 11:20:35 pm »
Book reviews are a great way to find out about books, either to decide whether you'd be interested in reading them or, in lengthy pieces like TNY's, just to learn a little about their subjects without necessarily reading the whole books.

I find that to be the case quite a lot. It's why I read almost all the book articles, and even the Briefly Noteds.
"It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide."--Charles Dickens.