gabe chouinard (deadcities_icon) is an erudite and often frustrating reviewer and critic. His writings (many of which can be found at Urban Drift) push the discourse of speculative fiction and ask a lot of the field (a sentiment reminiscent of John Gardner's in The Art of Fiction (I think) in which he tells the young creative writer to never settle for anything but the best in his or her writing and the writings of others). Many of his complaints seem to stem from a frustration that we're not taking ourselves seriously enough, and that the level of general written discourse is not at a high enough standard for the rest of Literature to take us seriously either. (Please, gabe, let me know if my assumptions are incorrect.)

Which led him to write "A Reviewerfesto Presented as an Excursive Essay Which May Actually Contain or Consist of a Review," in which he excoriates the reviewers of speculative fiction for not exercising enough of their critical faculties on the texts that they review. Many reviews, he argues, are merely outgrowths of the publisher's PR campaign for the book, and don't go beyond simple praise, or "what I liked about this book." He then gives some examples of this, including this one:

While the primary narrative engages the reader just as much as its predecessor, it often takes long digressions to backfill the story. Large chunks of the book completely halt any forward motion in order to reveal aspects of Chanya's past, from her time in America to her visitation of Mitch Turner at his hotel room in Songai Kolok. Since Chanya is not the narrator, Burdett faces a challenge in relating important information about her relationship with the dead CIA agent without an infodump, and it could have been done in a less clunky manner: chapter 26 is presented as an extended account of the events in Chanya's diary. -Bangkok Tattoo review at Strange Horizons.

Those of you who happen to pay attention to the stuff I publish (you know, both of you) may recognize this as an extract from a review I wrote of John Burdett's Bangkok Tattoo.

He then asks, "What do these reviews (and the murky sinkhole filled with others like them) accomplish? What is the point of these pointless reviews that summarize a plot, offer no insights, spit out glorious bits of blurbworthy praise and vanish into the ether?"

He goes on to do a review of The Crooked Letter by Sean Williams. This was later followed by a postscript in which he clarifies his position further as a response to Lou Anders' response to the essay, as well as a review of his review, in which he takes the piss out of anyone hoping to point out any hypocrisies gabe might have committed among the criteria for critical excellence in the original essay (which is a bit like handing your story to a critique group, and then, when someone critiques a section of your story, responding with "Yeah, I knew that already," something, in all honesty, that I've done myself before).

There have been several responses to gabe's essay already, and I thought I'd add my $0.02 as well.

First of all, I agree with much of what gabe writes. As someone who hopes to make a career in academia, I would also like to see more of what gabe calls Popular Criticism: "reviews that examine more than the surface text of a novel, and makes critical judgement on the effectiveness of a given work." This is not, to clarify, Academic Criticism, which aims "at in-depth analysis of a text, drawing upon one or more schools of literary theory." It's a looser sort, but still using critical analysis to examine a text within the context of speculative fiction as well as any subgenre it may belong to or at least touch on. This type of criticism (epitomized by John Clute), lends a gravitas to our field that, sadly, does not exist as much as I (or gabe) would like. It's still an unfortunate fact that many university literature programs consider spec-fic as "that kid's stuff," though it has gained more legitimacy in recent years, thanks in part to the gradual seepage of cross-genre work into established literary venues.

However, there are times when I just want to find out if a book is interesting enough for me to buy it or request it from the library. If someone likes a particular book, I want to know why (more than just OMG teh best book EVAR!!!!111!!!), but I don't necessarily need an in-depth deconstruction of it.

And, to be frank, these are the types of reviews I tend to write. Here's why.

1) My reviews have appeared, for the most part, at The Green Man Review, Strange Horizons, and this blog. I can count on one hand the number of books the publishers have sent me (Bangkok Tattoo, Trampoline, Kalpa Imperial and The Alchemist's Door), as well as books sent straight from the authors (Little Gods, Dreams of the Compass Rose, Crystal Rain and Nothing is Inflammable). The rest were all first acquired by me, with the primary intention of enjoying them. And while it's true that some of my reviews have included gushing praise, I've made a real effort lately to be more objective and even-handed. This includes any criticism I may have had of a book.

In fact, the extract cited above by gabe is part of what I didn't like about Bangkok Tattoo (which is why I'm curious that he included it among his examples of "blurbworthy praise," though it could have instead been included in the insightless summary group). I didn't lead with this information for the simple fact that what I liked about the book outweighed what I didn't like, and so it can seem to be buried within.

My stance on reviews is simple: I only review books that I like and that I think other people will like. Like I've said in the past, I read a lot of books (especially now, since I'm selling so many and want to read them before I get rid of them), and I don't have time to spend on a book in which I have no emotional investment. So right away, if I'm reviewing a book at all, I can see some merit in it, and I'll naturally want to emphasize this. But that doesn't mean turning off my critical faculties altogether. I no longer shy away from discussing what doesn't work as well. This criticism may not be the complete focus, or it may not be to the extent that gabe would like, but it's still there.

2) Up until recently, I've reviewed for zero pay. I haven't gotten paid for any of the reviews I did for The Green Man Review or for this blog. I've only gotten paid for two reviews, both written for Strange Horizons (and I'm still waiting on the check for the second one). SH only pays $20 for longer reviews (and doesn't even pay for ones with fewer than 750 words); not great, but it's better than nothing.

(I'm aware of the argument that if a publisher is sending you a book for review that at least you're getting paid with a free book, and I have to call bullshit. If you review this book in a venue that people are likely to read, you are providing promotion for the book, even if you absolutely hate it. Even if it's a hardcover, which is unlikely, the "free" book amounts to about $25 you have saved had you bought it yourself, which is a pittance compared to what publicity departments spend on promotion. So I'd say it's at the very least an even swap.)

So, if I'm getting paid only $20 for a review (or nothing at all), I'm less inclined to use all of my critical faculties, not to mention my valuable time, delving deeply into the book and its place in the oeuvre of speculative fiction. Does this make me lazy? Maybe. Does it make me a capitalist pig-dog? Well, that's going a bit far. All it means is that I consider my time valuable (whether you do or not), and felt that the time I would have spent deconstructing Bangkok Tattoo was better utilized by creating the syllabi for my composition classes.

The sweet spot for Strange Horizons' reviews, according to their submissions page, is 1500 words. Which doesn't really allow for the kind of exploration that gabe is talking about. However, this is why they also have an articles department.

N.B. Of the spec-fic-friendly online review venues that are open to unsolicited submissions, it appears that The Internet Review of Science Fiction pays the best for reviews, at $70 per. This is why I'm also submitting to them, although I sent a review of Snake Agent to them five weeks ago and haven't yet heard back. Anyone know if they're just backed up?

3) I'm honestly not as smart as John Clute or gabe chouinard or most of the people writing in speculative fiction and criticism right now. Hal Duncan's blog posts make me cry because I know I'll never be that brilliant. I'm a fairly intelligent guy, but I can't even approach the knowledge and insight that so many writers out there do on a daily basis.

So I work with what I have. I constantly try to improve myself, but I know that I'll hit a wall of cognitive capacity that I simply cannot break through. And there's not much I can do about that right now. Soon as they start offering brainbox upgrades, I'll be first in line.

Sometimes it takes someone like gabe to stir up the hornet's nest and get us thinking about these things again. It has been interesting to see the responses (Lou Anders, John DeNardo, Sherwood Smith, Bob Urell, Sean Williams, Jonathan McCalmont, Rob Bedford, Paul Raven, Jim C. Hines), and to examine my own approach to reviewing. I'll continue to talk about books that I like, as well as write more academic criticism (look for "Embedded Narrative in the Fiction of Kelly Link" in Foundation no. 99, Winter 2007) when time permits.