January - June 2003


June 20/03: Harry's Curse 

The latest installment in the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, goes on sale tomorrow.

The amount of media coverage this story has received has been simply staggering. From the obvious angles (its unprecedented advance sales and first print run of 8.5 million), to the ridiculous (postal workers in Scotland are apparently concerned that delivering the new book, which is an impressive 768 pages and 1 kg in weight, may be a health risk), we've been hearing it all. 

I've been critical of the whole phenomenon. It is, for one thing, depressing that there are more adults reading these books than there are kids. Indeed, some publishing reports have suggested that a generation of children may be outgrowing Harry. This demographic switch strikes me as being typical of a fad, and a bad thing all around (for more on our juvenile culture, see the essay "Kid  Stuff"). I also find the media convergence that has made the Harry Potter books into a billion-dollar franchise a little scary. There have always been literary blockbusters, but the engineered blockbuster, especially on this scale, is something new. David Sexton, writing in the London Evening Standard, is particularly good on this:

"For this accelerating rush to make books into events is a folly, a self-inflicted injury. Films have openings, shows have first nights, even exhibitions have private views, but books do not need launches at all (authors are another matter). They are objects, not events. . . . 

We all know this but there is a conspiracy throughout the books business, from the review pages through to the shop windows, to pretend that the only titles that matter are the latest ones. We conspirators all do our best to turn these permanent objects into passing events, as though we miss the very moment of publication at our peril. Books are increasingly promoted like movies, to be consumed now or never."

Which is to say, books are becoming more and more a part of our instant disposable culture. We might almost think of it as Harry's Curse on the publishing world. Why the insane rush to have the new Harry Potter mailed to you on the first day? This too is typical of a fad, but one that is unlikely to just go away.

As Sexton points out, there is a "conspiracy" in the book business to make it seem as though the only titles that matter are the latest ones. Next week the newspaper columnists will have to find something else to write about. Harry will be over (at least until Volume 6).

Here's something I'd really like to see done as an alternative. A few years ago the film critic Roger Ebert started a regular column where he went back and wrote about classic films instead of reviewing the latest Hollywood junk. These essays were apparently very popular, and were later collected in a book (The Great Movies). This past week also saw the launch of Oprah Winfrey's new Book Club. This time around Oprah will be focusing on the "classics" instead of new books (first up will be John Steinbeck's East of Eden). 

This seems heartening evidence of the public's interest in work that has stood the test of time. Such a desire to learn more about the classics should be encouraged. What better way than to have some of our major book reviewers and literary columnists write a monthly column on some good old books? 

And then maybe, 100 years from now, someone will do the same for Harry.


June 12/03: Books by Their Writers?

In the aftermath of the American invasion of Iraq it has come to light that none of Saddam Hussein's novels were actually written by the dictator.

I can't say this comes as much of a surprise, especially given what I've had to say about the "Death of the Author," and all of the current scandals over plagiarism in the news and publishing world. But what I did find notable was the fact that Saddam didn't actually claim authorship, but only signed his work "a book by its writer."

Such humility is disingenuous. Here is how Ali Abdel-Amir describes the writing process: "Saddam would record the outlines of his novel on a tape recorder and palace employees would transcribe it and give it to the committee, whose members included a number of writers and intellectuals . . . They would write the novel and return it to Saddam. It would go back and forth until the novel got his approval."  

Can Hillary Clinton say she had as much involvement in writing Living History? I mean, she does have other things to do. And will Madonna's forthcoming children's books be books by their writer? Does today's celebrity publishing scene operate so very differently from the Iraqi Information and Culture Ministry?


April 22/03: Kid Stuff

In his most recent Toronto Star column, literary critic Philip Marchand addresses the shrinking male audience for novels: 

"Of those who buy novels, slightly fewer than 20 per cent are men, according to Professor David Booth at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education (OISE) at the University of Toronto.

"This tallies with the figures for the United States. According to the marketing research firm IPSOS-Insight, men constituted only 17.1 per cent of the market for adult fiction trade books. And the number is going down. In 1997 the figure was 19.3 per cent.

"'Boys stop reading fiction at the age of 12 or 13,' Booth comments. 'If they read a novel after that, it's because they've been told to in school.'"

As Marchand points out, this is nothing new (though the trend is a little depressing). I remember writing something on the subject two years ago (see "Getting Men to Read"). I found the more disturbing thing about Marchand's piece to be the age factor. No doubt there is some explanation here of why The Lord of the Rings and Catcher in the Rye hold top spot on all of those "favourite book" lists. These may be the last books many people have read.

Today's culture is youth culture. Even dedicated adult readers will admit they don't read as much now as when they were young. Stephen Henighan is particularly eloquent about why this is so:

"After one's late teens or early twenties, the capacity for absolute, unthinking immersion in a work of fiction diminishes. More mundane concerns - the job, the rent, the family - become harder to shake off when one opens a book. Concentration turns into a question of effort, a willed act. The teenager or young adult's susceptibility to the swamping of life by fiction, to a yielding of self before an enchanted merging with people of other times and places, may never return in its full youthful resilience, but it does bequeath a vivid legacy to the perpetually distracted adult."

A legacy, yes. But there is no growth. Apparently there are more adults than kids reading Harry Potter these days. Publishers are desperate to engage the imaginations of twenty-year-olds, but the only way they can think of doing so is by marketing authors as low-wattage popstars, assisted by the usual media obsequiousness in such matters (popstars sell papers too). Image and marketing is everything, a sad fact that only serves to further alienate the adult audience while confirming the young in their cynicism. And so the sad procession of Eggers, Smith, and the recently profiled (in the Globe and Mail) Foer:

"Though most of the rave reviews for [Everything is] Illuminated focused on the passages written in Alex's exquisitely calibrated voice, Foer's history of Trachimbrod is painted in a lyrical and faintly childlike magic realism that leaves audiences swooning. (It's the kind of writing that can get an author laid a lot, unless he's already in a committed relationship, as Foer is.)"

Reading between the lines of this journalistic tongue bath (where does the Globe find these people?), one detects ample evidence of the pop syndrome. As columnist Simon Houpt continues to gush about Foer's reading in New York City we find that 

"it's the older ones here, the moms and dads with kids Foer's age, who seem more deeply affected by his sweet and generous prose. It is their eyes that glisten with recognition at the emotional truth of the writing, at its depiction of life's semi-sad reality and its compromises. They nod and wonder to themselves: How could a boy so young have such a deep understanding?"

How could a "journalist" with an ounce of self-respect allow himself to speculate like this about . . .  But let that be. It is the young ones, Foer's acolytes, who are front and center here, "the twentysomething hopefuls who came to Barnes & Noble for publishing advice."

Now there's a question Mr. Foer might know something about. (Earlier in the evening he is described as launching into an "impressive extemporaneous commentary about the value of reading and writing when people are suffering violent deaths halfway around the world. 'I think it's worthwhile,' he concluded, sounding like he was still struggling with the question. 'It's maybe even something like moral.'" It's maybe even something like that indeed.)

Respecting a creature like this as an author would be like respecting Britney Spears as a singer. Did I say there was no progression? No growth? I was wrong. Next stop for those eager hopefuls whose eyes are mercifully undimmed by the sweetness and generosity of Foer's prose . . . The Hogwarts Express!


March 28/03: A Very Short List 

The newly founded Trillium Book Prize for Poetry in English has cancelled its inaugural award. The Trillium is a $10,000 prize for the first book of poetry by a poet resident in Ontario for three of the last five years. In a brief statement, prize officials announced no English-language titles would be named as finalists. "The English jury unfortunately decided that none of [the submitted titles] stood out enough to receive an award of excellence this year," says Janet Hawkins, publishing consultant at the Ontario Media Development Corporation, which sponsors the award.

Criticism of the jury's decision has been swift. Silas White, Managing Director of Nightwood Press, has spearheaded a petition signed by many members of Ontario's literary and publishing community describing the decision as a "setback to a vital community that, to the contrary of the impression left by the jury, has been growing in numbers and in excellence."

It is unfortunate, not to mention weird, that the award has been so badly bungled. On the face of it there are two reasons for cancellation. The first, and I think this is what is clearly implied by the jury's statement, is that there weren't any submissions considered worthy. I can't offer an informed opinion on this, but even if it is a fair critical assessment it is remarkable that a jury would say as much. Let's face it: Every literary award has its bad years. Sometimes you have an embarrassment of riches and sometimes you just have an embarrassment. But this is an award for a first book, which means that even if there wasn't a great achievement the jury could at least recognize what had promise. To pass such a negative judgment on such a modest platform is foolish and mean.

The other justification for not giving an award is that the field was just too small. The Globe and Mail reports that only ten books in total were submitted. This does, in fact, make the job of coming up with a short list a little fine (the "short list" for the French language award consists of only two books!).  

And yet the small number of submissions could hardly have come as a surprise. As Mr. White points out, "there will always be a relatively small amount of debut poetry collections by Ontario authors, and we all know brilliant debuts are few and far between." What, then, were they thinking?

Perhaps more to the point, Who are they? Just what is the Ontario Media Development Corporation anyway? The title seems a little less poetry-friendly than, say, the Ontario Arts Council. A visit to the official OMDC homepage fills us in. Imagine a new poet confronting a prize committee with this mission statement:

"Our focus is to build capacity and competitiveness of Ontario's cultural media industry, individually and across the sectors and to provide opportunities that encourage business alliances across the cultural industries."

Capacity? Competitiveness? This is an arts board? Moving on, I found that the mandate of the Corporation is "to stimulate employment and investment in Ontario." Does that mean support the arts? Unlikely. Though perhaps, I thought, there is something for budding poets in the program "New Voices, New Visions", which is described as allowing "emerging business talent in all six cultural media industries to advance their careers by creating new, market-driven products."

Then again, perhaps not.

Of course knocking corporate Philistines is an easy game, but in this case there is some cause. The OMDC is a government corporation, and their mandate seems distinctly at odds with running poetry awards. In this case it is clear they were out of their depth. 

Ten books not enough? They may have been too much.


March 8/03: The Disappearing Book Review - Offline

The online magazine Salon.com is facing bankruptcy.

While I've had fun taking shots at Salon's book coverage (see here), I've also admired their occasional irreverence, energy and gusto. It's unfortunate they didn't better understand the nature of the Internet beast.

But the loss of Salon.com is only part of what might be a trend. Also announced this week was the demise of CentralBooking.com, a busy, good-looking book site that focused on new and under-appreciated American writing. Closer to home I note the disappearance/realignment of globebooks.com, the official book site of the Globe and Mail. Gone. That link will only take you to the books section of the main Globe page now, a reader un-friendly area with more ads and fewer features. (I should add here that the situation with regard to "mainstream" Canadian book reviewing available on the Internet is deplorable. Why should a "stand-alone" book page on the Net - as opposed to print - be any trouble for the Globe and Mail, Toronto Star or National Post? As it is you have to dig down from their crowded homepages only to find a selection of the most recent reviews. And where are the specialty journals like Quill & Quire and Books in Canada?  These sources only have a limited presence online.)

It seems clear that many book sites overestimate the amount of public interest, and income, they will be able to generate. Did globebooks make any money out if its partnership deal with Chapters.ca? Was its forum really cancelled (as was claimed at the time) because of sensitivity over the events of September 11? I have my doubts. 

But still it makes you wonder. A couple of years ago the buzz was all about the demise of the stand-alone book section (for my comments at the time, see here). Do these latest casualties indicate a similar fate for book sites?

I don't think so. 

I'm sad to see Salon and Central Booking go. But a high turnover rate is business as usual on the Internet. Whatever is lost, more good things are on the way.


February 28/03: One Step Back

Television talk show host Oprah Winfrey has announced that she will be bringing back her popular book club, with a difference. Instead of reading new releases Oprah hopes to introduce (or re-introduce) her audience to the classics. In three to five episodes called "Traveling with the Classics" (apparently she will be visiting the settings of the authors' works) she plans to share her love for favourite authors such as Shakespeare, Steinbeck, Hemingway and Faulkner.

I think this is great news. It even makes me a little curious. What Hemingway novel will be up for discussion? Which play in the Shakespearean canon is the most Oprah-esque? But while I applaud any attempt at reclaiming our vanishing cultural heritage in an age of instant disposability, there is also something a little sad about the new direction. When she cancelled her book club back in April of last year (for my comments at the time, see here) Oprah remarked that it was becoming harder and harder to find new books that she felt "absolutely compelled to share." I am not entirely without sympathy. Few people I know would argue that reading today's bestsellers, or even today's prize-winners, is as rewarding an experience as getting re-acquainted with the best of what has already been thought and said. As a reviewer with a healthy respect for the fact that life is short and reading takes a long time, this is something brought home on a daily basis. As the height of the pile of new releases grows, I realize that I can't even remember the last time I read Faulkner or Henry James or Jane Austen.

As with the current rush toward historical novels in our literary fiction, Oprah's change of course indicates a clear turning away from the new. Unfortunately, despite the presence of so many skilful writers today, I can't really blame her.


February 10/03: Reviewed and Unread

In response to a recent review of Susan McDougal's The Woman Who Wouldn't Talk by Beverly Lowry appearing in the New York Times, political writer Gene Lyons has made the assertion, based on some evidence, that Ms. Lowry didn't even read the book. "Assuming minimal competence," he writes, "Lowry simply cannot have done so."

In an exchange of e-mails posted on the Poynter.org Web-site, freelance book critic Ellen Heltzel explains the gaffe this way:

"The assigning editor, even at the country's most important newspaper, faces too many books and not enough time. He or she relies on free-lance critics of varying skill who either have an ax to grind or don't know enough about the topic (the latter being the case with Lowry). There's no fact checking. 

Low staffing means there are no redundancies built into a book section to prevent these kinds of mistakes, and low regard means it's not so surprising when they occur."

I don't think this cuts it at any level, much less that of the New York Times. Fact checking should occur regardless of which section of the newspaper the column appears in. Furthermore, if the assigning editor can't find someone to write a responsible review they should just let it go. And if they can't find someone, I might add, it's because they aren't trying hard enough. Just browse through the customer reviews on Amazon. There are plenty of armchair critics out there, many of them with educated, well-informed opinions. I'm sure they would be happy to take the job - and read the book.

Unfortunately, not reading is beginning to attain a special, privileged status in our cultural life. Michael Kinsley led the way out of the closet for jury members on literary prize committees. When he boasted of only reading a small fraction of the eligible books there was some controversy, but little surprise (a reaction that seems to be repeating itself with regard to the Times story). Meanwhile, among agents and editors the best way to prove you are in the big leagues is to brag of how little you read. To spend large amounts on a manuscript you've read all the way through doesn't say very much for your critical or business acumen. But to blow six or even seven figures on a first chapter, a first page, or even an outline, shows a master's eye. Clearly, aliteracy has nothing to be ashamed of.

Why should mere reviewers have to play by different rules? Now for the record I have read all of the books that I've reviewed (unless you count The Blind Assassin, which was a special case). But I am also aware of the fact that not all reviewers adhere to this same code of conduct. I have read book reviews where I have known for a fact that the reviewer had not read the book. I knew this not because of any slip-up of the kind that makes angry authors complain that the reviewer should have at least had the courtesy to read the book. This is, after all, something every angry author says (what they really mean is that the reviewer should have read the book more carefully and so not missed some essential point that demolishes their whole critique). I've known because the reviewers told me. They were proud of their accomplishments. They were professionals, and anyone (meaning any amateur) could be expected to write a review of a book they'd actually read. (The same point of pride, by the way, is sometimes insisted upon by academics, who see it is a mark of distinction to lecture on books they haven't read. But that's another story.)

The answer? Have authors write their own reviews. Sir Walter Scott did it. Poe and Whitman did it. And Anthony Burgess did it, prompting Gore Vidal to remark approvingly "shouldn't there be at least one book review in all of England written by someone who had actually read the book?"

An idea ahead of its time.


January 20/03: Poetry and Propaganda

An anthology entitled 100 Poets Against the War has been published on the Internet. This is only the latest installment in what has become a series of poetic protests against the oncoming American war against Iraq. There have also been recent anti-war poems by such prominent writers as Harold Pinter and British poet laureate Andrew Motion.

But the first salvo in this pre-emptive war of words may have been fired by the other side. Over a month ago the New York Times revealed that the Bush administration had recruited "prominent American writers to contribute to a State Department anthology and give readings around the globe in a campaign started after 9/11 to use culture to further American diplomatic interests." A list of authors including four Pulitzer Prize winners were asked to contribute essays on what it means to be an American writer to a 60-page booklet to be distributed overseas. The collection would not be available in the U.S. because of laws against the government propagandizing the American people.

Yeats, who might be expected to know something about living in a time of troubles, had this to say "On Being Asked  For a War Poem":

"I think it better that in times like these
A poet's mouth be silent, for in truth
We have no gift to set a statesman right."

Maybe so, but I have to admit I like the idea of writers grabbing the media spotlight. A lot of what is being written isn't very good, but it does demonstrate involvement (if not always relevance).

With the publication of Pinter's scathing "God Bless America" the debate has become heated. In an angry rebuttal, J. Bottum of the Weekly Standard criticizes the poem both for its metrics and its politics. Bottum complains about the lack of argument in the anti-war poems by Motion and Pinter, as well as their knee-jerk anti-Americanism. "Are America's motives really that bad?" he asks.

"The poet," as Sidney once explained, "never affirms." And they certainly don't provide arguments. If they did we would just go back and see if Milton was right and have done with it. Poetry may express political feelings, but it is not propaganda. In other words, you can say whatever you want about how lousy Pinter's poem is (though I think Bottum should try reading it aloud instead of counting the syllables); what you can't say is that it's wrong.

And this is the real contribution being made by the anti-war poets. Now there's no point my making a secret of the fact that I think George W. Bush is a very stupid person. A question asked of previous U.S. presidents was whether they would take the blame for "losing" Russia or China. Mr. Bush is in the running to be the president who lost the world. I still can't figure out how the criminal acts perpetrated by a group of disenchanted Saudi nationals led to the invasion of Afghanistan. The ouster of Saddam Hussein should be welcome to everyone, including the Iraqis, but what principle is at stake? No nation on Earth is a threat to the United States. 

There will be more terrorist attacks on U.S. soil. But a war on terrorism is like a war on drugs, it seeks to police the criminal conduct of individuals and small conspiracies. Osama bin-Laden didn't need Iraq's help (nor did Timothy McVeigh, the Unabomber, the Virginia sniper, or many others once thought to be renegade Islamic fundamentalists). Obviously this coming war has a a broader purpose. But what national interest has the U.S. in the region except for oil? And I suppose a quick bloodless "regime change" in a faraway country will look good on TV (especially given how well-managed the news media are now). 

But in order to justify the coming war and its already staggering bill you need a propaganda machine. Apparently half of all Americans now think Iraq was directly responsible for September 11. And why wouldn't they? Here is our friend at the Weekly Standard J. Bottum:

"Are America's motives really that bad? You can see in them some self-servingness (beginning with the reasonable self-servingness of wanting the events of September 11 never to be repeated), and you can also see in them considerable idealism about the rights of freedom around the world."

Note that parenthesis. Now he doesn't say that Iraq caused the events of September 11 - because, after all, that would be lying - but did you get the implication? How's that for a "serious argument"? Or did you miss the connection? As for the "rights of freedom around the world", well, some of us remember that Saddam Hussein's worst atrocities were committed when he was a strategic American ally. In other words, it's just bullshit.

Which, after such a long rant, brings me back to the point. The anti-war poets aren't anti-American. They are anti-propaganda, anti-hypocrisy, and anti-bullshit. When I read Motion and Pinter I hear America singing. Poetry has a role to play in a media sandstorm so overwhelmingly one-sided. It's the voice of freedom. 


January 23/03: A Special Announcement

Only two hours after the announcement of the publication date for the next installment in the Harry Potter franchise, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix took over the number one spot on Amazon.com's bestseller list. Amazon refused to announce how many pre-orders there had been, but said that day one figures were 100 times those for the first day of pre-orders for J. K. Rowling's last book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (the previous record-holder).

At the same time this story broke I was interested to read a review of Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones in the New York Review of Books. In his (generally unfavourable) review, Daniel Mendelsohn recaps the publishing history of 2002's "Novel of the Year." After being initially puffed on the Today show six weeks before its publication, the book immediately went to number one on the Amazon bestseller list. Sebold's publisher could barely keep up with demand for the first-time novelist's as yet unavailable masterpiece: "a week before the book's official publication date, it was in its sixth printing, with nearly a quarter-million copies in print."

The growth of pre-sales is an interesting development in publishing. Of course in the eighteenth century an author could pre-sell his book by subscription as a way of supporting himself, but this is a different kettle of fish. Publishers love it because it lets them lock in sales without having to worry about returns. With enough hype or a strong enough brand name the whole enterprise can turn into a form of print-on-demand.

It's quite a testimony to the importance of marketing. Rowling and Sebold get great word of mouth, but word of mouth doesn't account for the sale of books that nobody has read. That is hype. It is also a demonstration of the speed our culture moves at. A hit movie now only enjoys a couple of weeks of box office (at the most) before it is yesterday's news. A few months later it is on DVD as a hot new release. A month after that it isn't even a historical curiosity. A new television series might only get two weeks to find an audience before it is pulled. You have to take the lead as you break from the gate. Or even before you break from the gate. Hence pre-sales. 

In addition, there's a reason why some of the books nominated for literary prizes every year seem so unfamiliar. It's because they aren't even out yet. In fact, this past year the publishers of Zadie Smith's The Autograph Man only submitted an "advance proof" of the novel to the Booker Prize jury just a few days before the deadline for releasing the long list (you can read my thoughts at the time here). Alas, it didn't make the long list, and quickly died.

I think this is a regrettable development. It promotes faddism, which undermines any belief in art as having an enduring value. Still, I'm not about to complain. Instead I would like to announce the forthcoming publication of It's All Good by Alex Good. Not only is this current number one bestseller unpublished, it is, as yet, unwritten. It's that good! I would also like to announce that I have already made the shortlist for next year's Governor-General's Literary Award (exact category to be determined). You'll have to judge the advance praise ("calling Alex Good Canada's greatest living writer is to belittle him") for yourself. But I'm sure you don't want to be left behind. Pre-order now!


January 7/03: Dinosaur Laureate?

Canada's new poet laureate, George Bowering, has taken a swipe at the spoken word. Bowering is quoted in the Globe and Mail as saying that real poets "bow to language with humility" and that to treat poetry as performance "is crude and extremely revolting." In the same article he refers to poetry "slams" and spoken word poets as "abominations." Vancouver spoken word poet T. Paul Ste. Marie has responded by saying that Bowering isn't following his job description, which includes supporting public poetry. But according to the CBC, Bowering "says he fully appreciates poets who get up in front of a microphone. What he says he has a problem with are poets who use language to get what they want":

"A true classic poet, says Bowering, is humble before the word and respects language. He says a poet who uses poetry to win a competition for his or her own glory is missing the point."

It's hard to say how serious Bowering wants us to take this. In the Globe and Mail he says, and I am in complete agreement, that "Poetry does better when poets are arguing . . . because in order to argue decently, you've got to do some thinking." In other words, this sort of confrontation and debate is healthy. What puzzles me is the extremely narrow and prescriptive view of poetry he goes on to articulate. It is, after all, only a relatively modern development that has seen the growth of non-performance poetry. Was the Anglo-Saxon scop reciting Beowulf being crude and revolting? Classical Greek drama was all about winning competitions - did that make it wrong? Was e. e. cummings "humble before the word"?

Poetry is energy and joy. Our laureate needs to lighten up.