An Earthquake of the Literary Kind
July 20, 2008

Accusations, hyperbole, snarkism, and opinions have  been flying around the Internet since the Los Angeles Times announced its latest changes in their book review section. Cuts and changes at this paper are, I’m sorry to say, nothing new, but this one—the elimination of the stand-alone section—has raised the collective fur of those who view themselves as the proper gatekeepers of book journalism.

Leading the pitchfork-and-torch crowd is Steve Wasserman, known to me as the Whinemaster, but more formally as the former books editor of the Times who resigned when his attempt to anoint himself book king at the paper several years ago was neatly severed in mid-air. He has since experienced more than one career change, but he’s like one of those plastic inflatable punching toys one sees in children’s rooms whenever the subject of the diminishing world of book journalism hits the front page (so to speak).

His most recent pop up was with PBS’ The News Hour where he discussed, along with Kassia Krozer, founder and editor of BookSquare, the decision of the paper to drop its stand-alone book review section. The Online News Hour posted a transcript, “Print Book Reviews Shrink While Online Versions Grow” in which Wasserman, having called the move a “philistine blunder,” (at least in public; god knows what he said in private) went on to explain, probably with curled lip:

I have no problem with the vast democracy wall that the Internet provides on which everyone, every crank and every sage can post his or her pronunciamento. But what's lost here is the discriminatory filter provided by people who have embraced journalism as a craft. What has been lost here is the authority, such as it ever was, of newspaper people trying to do a job well done. And despite the robust nature or at least the very excited nature of the conversation on the Internet, the best criticism still being written today is being published, say, in magazines, James Wood in the New Yorker, or Leon Wieseltier in the pages of the New Republic, or Christopher Hitchens in the pages of the Atlantic. And it will be a long time before the Internet gives us a forum in which such people unsupported by institutions can deliver us that kind of literary criticism. At their best, the newspapers were an exercise in delivering to us that kind of informed criticism, which was the work of professionals who had devoted a lifetime to the consideration of literature.

Now I am not happy to see the decline of book review sections, though some of them seem a weekly exercise in the reviewers’ ability to tout their own knowledge and opinions rather than offer germane and genuine insight into the books. Being a follower of the development of book blogs and websites, I believe Wasserman might have a valid point if he were ever to pull his head out of his ego. Literary criticism is harder to find, though the publications he named as well as others still carry fine pieces. But the fact is that literary criticism is read by fewer people, and the poor cousin of it that was often found in the Times under Wasserman’s reign is not much missed—at least by this reader. In that same News Hour discussion, Krozser showed a much better grasp of the evolving situation:

We've seen a shift for the past, oh, close to 15 years . . .  And if you go online, you see an extremely robust, intelligent community of people who love to talk about books. You've got great writing going on, you've got great discussions, but most importantly you've got great community. People are engaged from all levels, from the publishing industry down to the reader . . . 

Now, I would absolutely agree that there could be stronger editing and maybe some better curating, especially on certain Web sites, but that doesn't take away from the fact that these are people who understand literature, they understand non-fiction, fiction, books. They understand what they're reading, and they're able to communicate their passion for books to their readers . . .

No doubt all of us who love books and reading can sit and argue far into the night about literary criticism versus book reviews, book blogs versus newspaper book review sections, who should and who should not be writing about books, and maybe never find common ground. Which is odd given the passion we share.
 
Krozer, in a post on BookSquare titled “Once More With Feeling: The LATBR Publishes Its Last,” where she explored the subject in greater depth, bluntly noted:

The LATBR simply didn’t serve its community . . . a book review section in a major newspaper should be reflective of the subscriber base, even if it’s trying to maintain a certain level of discourse; you have to bring the larger audience in, even a little bit, if you want to expose your conversation beyond the choir.

I don’t believe that making the section more relevant for a broader readership is the same thing as dumbing it down. Smart readers should be courted, not locked out.

It’s fine to have a high level of discussion about books, but I think it’s equally important to have the discussion in a way that feels inclusive . . . There was a sense of entitlement in the hand-wringing about book review cuts, a sense that we should have this dedicated section in a newspaper because, well, we should.

Like many others, I have gone online to find the type of literary discussion I enjoy . . . There might be looser writing, less editorial oversight, but there is absolute passion about books. Passion matters because it moves people to explore and expand.

I like this. In fact, it tends to reflect what has been my feeling about the Times book reviews for a long time. I find especially intriguing the dissonance that has existed between their book review section and their book festival since the latter began more than a dozen years ago. A more inclusive group of passionate booklovers could not be found anywhere than those 140,000 who attend the fair each year. Romance readers, thriller readers, history buffs, fans of women’s fiction, mystery devotees, aficionados of cookbooks, Hispanic readers, and many more diverse-interest readers swarm over the panels, authors and vendors.

The same, alas, can not be said of the book review section (though David Ulin, the new books editor, has made notable moves in this direction) because of the innate genre prejudices that have dominated it for so long. While I know some mourn the change I cannot help but feel like the commentator on “Trust in Book Lovers Not Reviewers” who phrased it so well: “While I do find the decline of the newspaper book column regrettable, I see it as part of an ongoing evolutionary shift of the conversation from monologue to dialog between readers, authors and critics.”

PersonaNonData is a blog of more interest to “publishers and information providers,” but its article linked just above has relevance to this discussion from the reader’s point of view:   

We are beginning to see the development of trust networks. As consumers of information we are starting to build our own networks of people and entities we rely on to support everything from our political philosophy to our choice in vacation spot. Reading falls squarely into that paradigm . . . a book review doesn't have to conform to a standard; this is a convention that has been constructed by old school journalists. What is relevant is what the opinion/review/recommendation means to the consumer.

These evolving trust networks, concentrated around people who love books, talk about books and opine about books, provide publishers with a window on the community they never had . . . Rather than lamenting the demise of the newspaper, publishers should be rejoicing in front of the window to a vibrant community of book lovers and opinion makers.

Do these efforts represent a replacement for book review sections? Well, if one hopes to find a facsimile of book review sections online, probably no . . . If one wishes to discover forms of literary commentary that serve the same function as a book review section, it is extremely difficult not to find online exemplars in alternative forms.

The print boosters remain hostile to the idea that an online medium can not only modify the manner in which critics and readers approach a book, but generate innovative methods of expanding one’s relationship to a text. So litblogs are deemed inferior not necessarily because the content is inferior, but because there are doubts about the methods and manner in which litblogs transmit information.