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Ray Sasaki speaks trumpet
The work of managing a young publishing house was so exhausting that I concluded a few months ago that I could no longer dedicate time to writing. Star Review: that I was overworked and responsible to my authors were reasons enough to give up. I didn't mention my growing skepticism that it made much difference, one way or another, whether I wrote or not.
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Silly me! I'm going to get my pixels once again on whatever irregular basis I can. My review lapse allowed me to conclude that readers or none, I feel compelled to write reviews to reflect and expand on the impact of the artists who move me – what they think and do. Who can grow without discussion? How can I enjoy art without the time that writing takes me to consider it deeply, in proportion to the generosity and magnitude of the work that brings the art to us?
This past weekend I listened to and spoke with the brilliant musician and musical thinker, Ray Sasaki who is, among many other things, trumpet player for the Tone Road Ramblers. Ray talked about playing his instrument since he was eight years old. How simply he told his audience that blowing his horn is speaking. In essence, he is bilingual and it is not clear that English is his most fluent language.
It gave me pause because it was so simple, primal, and universally applicable. We often want to free ourselves from the hassle of accepting art gifts that we have to put together with toolboxes limited to verbal language. “Artist: Just to say me what do you mean! Be your own museum stamp!”
When Sasaki speaks music, does it matter if I understand this in words? Of course yes: that's what most of us know. Art in all forms is sent into a verbal world. It is in the space between musical or visual or spatial language (literary language too!) and our attempts to understand it that meaning, discovery and love happen. This is the space where criticism helps us appreciate, question and discuss Sasaki's sounds, where we can thank him directly or indirectly. By writing, I can lead others to his music and the world of ideas he invites us into. These are the reasons to write – and read – reviews. Or “reviews” as critical pieces on a single subject are called. (see The Tone Road Ramblers: Always Some Surprises)
Book Review Democracy
Being an editor now has made me even more aware of the dilution of review. In visual art, the decline of art reviews in local newspapers and the brevity of those that appear have long been seen. Book reviews, on the other hand, appear to be experiencing a renaissance, thanks to customer reviews on the Amazon merchant site and especially reader reviews on the social media network Goodreads.
Book reviews are central to the literary world. They inform us about meritorious titles and give us the chance to discuss them in our minds with informed interlocutors. It's been sad to see book reviews leave the weekend sections of city newspapers, or shrink under stingy word limits where they survive. There are fewer than there used to be. So I thought to this day about popular online reviews.
A book review is a signed essay that describes the work, raises and discusses its themes, and connects the work and the writer to the broader world. The review genre that flourishes on websites simply summarizes a work's plot or argument and rates it according to the reader's feelings of dislike—five stars or one, thumbs up or thumbs down. This is not a book review. It's a book report or, if succinct enough, advertising copy.
Goodreads serves the active, enthusiastic reader as a broad, democratic book club. Readers have the satisfaction of keeping lists of books that serve as reading diaries. They are motivated to read more by being in a virtual environment of readers who are always “talking” about books and comparing notes. Readers enjoy the company of overlapping communities with similar tastes and enthusiasms, which in turn can lead them to broaden their tastes in authors and genres. I think Goodreads should be an advantage for adult reading in general, a club with meetings at any time necessary and without irresistible fattening.
It’s a shame that posts on Goodreads are called “reviews,” since they almost never go beyond a plot summary and a rating based on a personal, offbeat factor. A book receives a “1” because the reader does not like books with many characters. Another gets a “5” because the reviewer finds beautiful (for no illustrated reason) writing that most book critics would deplore as heavy-handed. In short, analysis, specificity, comparison are hard to find in this world. Authority based on other than taste is rarely present.
Goodreads reviews reflect the world of “legitimate” book reviews in a discouraging way, with some “hot” books being reviewed hundreds of times while lesser-known books (and staying that way for all the attention given to the best ones) sellers) go relatively unnoticed. The connection between criticism and marketing is as embarrassing as the emperor's new clothes. While the publishing world is full of titles, the marketing budget or past sales of an author's books are what attract popular and professional reviewers. No one wants to be seen making a connection with an “unimportant” title: most reviewers are very conservative and are unlikely to introduce a new title on their own. It's also hard to turn down a free book received through a well-oiled network.
I asked an NPR host who once spoke in Columbus why all of the network's many programs reviewed the same book one or two at a time, when there are always so many to choose from. He avoided the question with a laugh.
Is criticism about judging? Assessment? Thumbs up or down? Believe me? You will love?
Yay for the readers! Live by sharing opinions, by reading together, by exchanging books, by keeping au courant. But let's not confuse Goodreads and Amazon book reports and opinion publications with reviews—that deeper, more expansive conversation that takes us deeper into a book and into the growing spirals of space, time, and idea around it.
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