As longtime readers know, one of the ways I differentiate between 'literary criticism' and 'book reviews' is that I figure in literary criticism you have to discuss -- to put it simply -- whodunnit, and in a book review you can't -- or, to put it another way: literary criticism is for readers who already have read (or never will) the book in question, book reviews are for those who are considering reading it (and want to know if it's worth their while, etc.).
The complete review is pretty much all book reviews, straying very rarely into literary criticism. This leads to the occasional contortions in discussing a book -- especially (though not solely) of the mystery/thriller variety, where it most obviously would be unfair to reveal too much -- often not only who did it, but even the exact nature of the crime, the body-count, or other significant facts. Certainly, it seems to me that the reader should be allowed to discover the essential features of a text him- or herself; reviews should merely offer general guidance and impressions.
Recently I reviewed Herman Koch's The Dinner, an international bestseller that's finally also being published in the US. It's about two sets of parents, who get together at a fancy restaurant to discuss something their children did. Whether or not one likes the book, one has to acknowledge that Koch unfolds his story fairly well -- in particular regarding the heinous deed at the center of it all. Koch has a way of withholding and then presenting information that makes for some decent tension; arguably the 'moral issues' on the table here are what's most significant about the book, but I'd say what makes it 'work' is how Koch presents the issue(s).
Reading the early American reviews, I've been shocked to find that some reviewers spell it all out for readers. The most egregious -- because also most widely circulating -- instance is Janet Maslin's review in The New York Times yesterday. She offers a parenthetical warning:
Maslin clearly loathed this book, arguing that: "it's the morality of the story that's really sickening" -- though, clearly, she lost it somewhere along the line here, mistaking the (im)morality of the characters for that of the story: The Dinner may not be a successful morality tale, but surely the use of these characters and actions is meant to be provocative, rather than a straight-out endorsement of the shocking things Koch describes.
It's perfectly valid to argue that Koch fails in his picture-of-contemporary-life, and that the characters and/or their actions are too outrageous even for fiction. But Koch tells his story in a specific way, and the success of the novel and the enjoyment (if one can call it that) it offers rests on that presentation, and by revealing essentially everything reviewers such as Maslin (and she's not the only one) pull out the rug from under Koch, leaving only the rickety end-moral of the story standing (and tumbling).
Yes, in summary The Dinner is a hollow story -- but Koch has crafted something different here, and the point of the tale isn't (just) in its summary, but in its telling (or so it seems to me -- I take the whole 'moral question'-aspect to be a sideshow more than anything else) And even if you disagree, Koch deserves at least enough benefit of the doubt that readers should be left with the option to come to the book on Koch's terms, and not those of the reviewer. But Maslin takes that option off the table.
It's unfair to the author, and it's unfair to the (potential) readers; whatever satisfactions readers could have gotten out of The Dinner are largely compromised by the reviewer having given almost all of them away.
Bad form -- and bad reviewing.
The complete review is pretty much all book reviews, straying very rarely into literary criticism. This leads to the occasional contortions in discussing a book -- especially (though not solely) of the mystery/thriller variety, where it most obviously would be unfair to reveal too much -- often not only who did it, but even the exact nature of the crime, the body-count, or other significant facts. Certainly, it seems to me that the reader should be allowed to discover the essential features of a text him- or herself; reviews should merely offer general guidance and impressions.
Recently I reviewed Herman Koch's The Dinner, an international bestseller that's finally also being published in the US. It's about two sets of parents, who get together at a fancy restaurant to discuss something their children did. Whether or not one likes the book, one has to acknowledge that Koch unfolds his story fairly well -- in particular regarding the heinous deed at the center of it all. Koch has a way of withholding and then presenting information that makes for some decent tension; arguably the 'moral issues' on the table here are what's most significant about the book, but I'd say what makes it 'work' is how Koch presents the issue(s).
Reading the early American reviews, I've been shocked to find that some reviewers spell it all out for readers. The most egregious -- because also most widely circulating -- instance is Janet Maslin's review in The New York Times yesterday. She offers a parenthetical warning:
Now please (spoiler alert) can we cut to the chase ?Then she spills all the beans.
Maslin clearly loathed this book, arguing that: "it's the morality of the story that's really sickening" -- though, clearly, she lost it somewhere along the line here, mistaking the (im)morality of the characters for that of the story: The Dinner may not be a successful morality tale, but surely the use of these characters and actions is meant to be provocative, rather than a straight-out endorsement of the shocking things Koch describes.
It's perfectly valid to argue that Koch fails in his picture-of-contemporary-life, and that the characters and/or their actions are too outrageous even for fiction. But Koch tells his story in a specific way, and the success of the novel and the enjoyment (if one can call it that) it offers rests on that presentation, and by revealing essentially everything reviewers such as Maslin (and she's not the only one) pull out the rug from under Koch, leaving only the rickety end-moral of the story standing (and tumbling).
Yes, in summary The Dinner is a hollow story -- but Koch has crafted something different here, and the point of the tale isn't (just) in its summary, but in its telling (or so it seems to me -- I take the whole 'moral question'-aspect to be a sideshow more than anything else) And even if you disagree, Koch deserves at least enough benefit of the doubt that readers should be left with the option to come to the book on Koch's terms, and not those of the reviewer. But Maslin takes that option off the table.
It's unfair to the author, and it's unfair to the (potential) readers; whatever satisfactions readers could have gotten out of The Dinner are largely compromised by the reviewer having given almost all of them away.
Bad form -- and bad reviewing.