Even a quick scan of this blog’s contents cloud shows one thing clearly: I have a lot more movie reviews than anything else. That’s in part because my book reviews are on Goodreads rather than here. But it’s also partially because I don’t read as many books as I’d like.
Oh, and books are harder to review. Much harder. Here are eight reasons why:
Educated people are taught to respect books – For the vast majority of the thousands of years of recorded human history, books – in one form or another – have stored our knowledge for us. Keeping this tradition alive requires what all living traditions need: a certain measure of reverence. Parents pass this sense of respect to their children, and teachers pass it to their students.
One of the few lectures I still remember from high school all these decades after graduation is the lesson one history teacher taught us about the crime of book burning. “Never burn a book,” he admonished. “Even if you don’t like it, that book might have something important to say to someone else.” To this day I have trouble throwing away even outdated phone books.
I notice this bias creeping into my reviews as well. While a talentless filmmaker can expect to get kicked rapidly to the curb, a similarly incompetent author is far more likely to get an “at least they tried” response.
They require undivided attention – A good movie commands complete attention while it’s on. But the vast majority of movies out there don’t merit such an intense time commitment. Instead, one can easily attend to something else (such as writing a top eight list) while keeping an eye on a movie playing in the background just to make sure that nothing especially good or bad gets missed. Books can’t be handled that way. You’re either reading it or you aren’t.
They take longer to finish – In addition to their resistance to “multitasking,” books are simply slower going. I know some folks can speed read (and others think they can), but I’m not among them. At full steam I can finish a book a week, though life’s little distractions often keep me at a slower pace. In that amount of time I’ll typically watch and review seven to ten movies.
They’re more emotionally involving – Because books require such a high commitment of time and mental energy, the reader often ends up in a “mini relationship” with them. “Books are our friends” sounds like it should be followed by “but they won’t pick you up at the airport.” But in a way we do make friends with the books we read. To be sure, some of them are friends we dislike for one reason or another. I admit that as I type this several weak books stare down at me from my shelves. They’re there because I had the experience of reading them, so now for better or worse they’re part of my life.
Even the bad ones can be good – Bad books have something to teach us. For example, I admit to being defeated by Henry James. I simply cannot bring myself to attempt any more of his stories. However, James teaches us by counter-example the importance of paragraph structure, narrative flow, and the wisdom of the old adage “brevity is the soul of wit.” Bad movies often cause the audience to merely lose interest, especially at home where distractions abound. Writing – from the best to the worst – is harder to ignore.
Sometimes the good ones are actually bad – By its nature the written word stimulates critical thinking. It makes our neurons fire in ways that most other media simply don’t. When watching an uninspiring movie that critics adore, it’s easy to keep one’s opinions to one’s self. Nod and smile and pretend you saw the Emperor’s fine new suit that everyone else seems to think is so grand. Books demand more from us. At the end of a “classic” that left you flat, you should be able to find specific fault with what you read, not merely shrug it off with a diffident teenager’s “that was boring.” Like a long distance run, the experience may not have been the most fun in the world, but at least it was good for you.
I find it easier to empathize with writers – When I was a lad I imagined that someday I would be a big-time movie director. The writing I’ve done for the last four and a half decades – combined with the extensive catalog of movies I never made – leads me to conclude that I may be a writer rather than a filmmaker. I’ve found this “defeat” easy to live with. I like words. I like sentences and paragraphs and stories and essays and novels and articles and you name it I probably like it. Even poetry, which I find hard to wrap my brain around, holds its charms. Thus I sympathize with the plight of anyone who struggles to bend words to her or his will. And I enjoy being in the company of the fruits of their labor.
Books need all the love they can get – Nobody reads books anymore, right? Wrong. The book publishing industry is thriving. Unfortunately, currently it thrives on garbage. Witless screed from pundits of all stripes. Celebrities who assure us we too can be fabulously famous if – like some wooden puppet in a Disney movie – we just believe with all our hearts. And any number of other similarly unworthy tomes biding their times on bookstore shelves and remainder bins. In this landfill of the mind, finding a book that genuinely calls to you is a moment to be treasured, and parting with a book – even a bad one – at the conclusion of the final page is a bittersweet moment.
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