This reviewer has long been conscious of the inadequacy of the manner in which most books are reviewed at present.
The average book reviewer (an unsuccessful author) receives his free review copy (carefully stamped FOR REVIEW PURPOSES ONLY, NOT FOR RESALE in huge red letters) and, if his whiskey supply is low and his little red book of telephone numbers yield only masculine voices, dutifully sits down and reads the book from cover to cover, then pens a few hundred well-chosen words devoted to the author's complete lack of talent.
But this is wrong. The average writer takes anywhere from three months to two and a half years to write his book. This involves a tremendous amount of thought and effort. How patronising and unjust to expect a reviewer, in the space of a few days, to toss off a competent assessment of such a project.
The spirit of fair play alone demands that the reviewer spend at least as much time on his review as the writer spent on his book. Otherwise he is apt to overlook some of the writer's most carefully thought out and subtle gambits. Only by studying the story thoroughly with all the intensity and devotion of a Fundamentalist preacher perusing his bible can a truly fair reviewer work. The reviewer worthy of the name must be as familiar with the novel (preferably more so) as the author, himself. I am sure every conscientious reviewer has already seen the justice of my argument and is determined to deal more fairly with authors in the future. This is as it should be.
Of course there are a few slight difficulties. Even critics must eat. (We will ignore the individual who just shouted "Why") Reviews seldom pay over $10 while many reviewers are recompensed only by the free copies. And books, while well known as food for the mind, do little to fatten the waistline unless used on cold days for padding, due to their insulating qualities.
Obviously, few critics can spare three months to two and one half years for the fee of $10. (I might add that the true critic will devote his full time to the review. Otherwise, mundane distractions are apt to color his reactions unfairly.)
There is one solution to this dilemma, one which I have used in my review of Mr. de Sprague's splendid new novel "The World of Nullo". If intense study is required to review a book, and the reviewer has limited time to devote to the project, the obvious alternative is to limit his study to one section of the book, ignoring the rest. This has worked magnificently in isolated instances in the past. In 1936 George Jean Woolcott fell asleep after reading the first chapter of "Gone With the Wind". His review was due the next morning and, faced with the impossibility of reading 350 pages, he reviewed the first chapter only, though he did not mention the fact. The review was an immediate sensation. Other reviewers hastened to agree and sales zoomed.
In 1943 a Kansas newspaper editor accidently obtained a copy of an obscure adventure novel with all except pages 138-224 missing. His review resulted in an unprecedented demand for the story in bookstores all over the country. Unfortunately, the book had been out of print since 1902 and it developed that the only remaining copy was the mutilated one possessed by the reviewer.
I, myself, once reviewed a fantasy magazine in which over half the pages were illegible. The few decipherable stories were unreadable but my review of this issue drew enthusiastic praise and that issue is now a priceless collector's item, illegible pages and all.
So, in the case of "The World of Nullo", I have deliberately utilized this much fairer to the author method of not reading the entire book. Though the casual reader will doubtless find the adventures of hero Cymbal Cinnamon engrossing throughout, I, as a reviewer, found Chapter 14 especially worthy of attention...
...this may have been because I looked at no other chapters. However, for the reader with only six months to devote to the book, we definitely recommend Chapter 14.
Having only two nights to spare, myself, I was forced to eliminate even further. Page 183 seemed especially appealing and I had no sooner commenced close examination when I spies IT!
Customarily, I should have selected first a paragraph, then a single sentence, for detailed study. But destiny intervened.
In line 17 of page 183 between the words 'he' and 'said' is a space. But not an ordinary space! This space has a personality, a flavor all its own. This shows the advantages of close study. What casual reviewer could appreciate the toil expended here?
This space is truly unique; there has never been such a space before, there will never be another--only crude imitations. It expresses joi de vivre, exuberance, humility, and passion, all condensed into one small space where a cruder writer would be forced to struggle for pages. I am convinced we are entering a golden age which will date from this achievement of sheer monumental genius. De Sprague can never, regrettably, surpass this.
This space belongs to humanity, now. Steps should be taken to see that it is properly preserved. I would suggest the next edition of this book be given special attention. Perhaps the author and publisher can reach an agreement whereby the space can be expanded to the length of a full sentence or, better yet, a whole paragraph. It actually deserves a full chapter to itself.
Someday the space will probably be expanded to encompass the entire 280 pages of the book. Actually, had de Sprague as much good taste as talent, he would have arranged it thus before the book's first printing. The novel would have benefited immesurably by the change.
Data entry by Judy Bemis