Although I'd stand by my arguments in the linked piece, I was nodding along to everything you are saying here. One thing that stands out to me is your point about the NBA international prize being more interesting and challenging than the other awards. The aesthetic conservatism of big publishers is at least understandable from a business POV. But why are the awards so aesthetically conservative?
Many factors surely but I think a lot comes down to this: "Yes, I think we over-emphasize the content and especially the premise of any given book, at the expense of how well it is conceived and executed." I've ranted about this in private a lot. Even books I admire only get discussed on their premise--and often not REALLY their premise but a clickbaitable version of the premise. Both in the mainstream and in whatever alternative / indie / countercultural spaces are left, literature is discussed on premise with very little thought to execution. I suspect a lot of that is downstream from social media, where even book reviews only get clicks if they have a snappy headline that gets across the premise...
It's very much the same for most mainstream book reviewing, right? The average NYT review just reiterates the first two-thirds of the plot with maybe one sentence about the style and some qualified criticism in the second to last paragraph. To be fair, this is how most people read: they're get intrigued by the premise, and at the end decide whether it convinced them or not. But I think this leaves the reader without the tools to understand why a book might have disappointed them. After all, wasn't the plot realistic? Didn't the characters seem like real people?
And now we're back to our lowered standards, which lead people to believe that they shouldn't demand more from the books they read, or from themselves as readers. In one of the pieces I linked to the author says basically "I haven't read Long Island Compromise but I'm sure it's great." Why? I have a particular dislike for Fleishman but I don't know anyone who thought it was a "great" book. But if we keep lowering the bar, it becomes one. And then we end up in the place Oyler is talking about, where we feel vaguely disappointed, but have no idea why.
There are so many possibilities available to us as writers and readers. I really do believe that any subject can make for a good book, or at least a good story. Why limit ourselves? Why lower our expectations? It's only in our interest to demand more, and better, from our books.
The most interesting books by far that I've read in recent years have been from small indie publishers, both for translated literature and for literature written in English. But, as a small publisher myself, I can tell you it is very hard to keep afloat financially if the sales of such books are so low (and our marketing budgets so small). Which is why so many (even award-winning) publishers have had to shutter their operations. I veer most days somewhere between wild courage and utter despondency and despair.
When I read "...relentless conglomeration and centralization in the publishing industry...," I immediately rememember a mid-90s meeting with an editor where an 800-page novel was sparead out on his office floor and he said, "It's gonna sell zero copies and I'm gonna publish it."
I have turned on comments because why not, what could possibly go wrong
Although I'd stand by my arguments in the linked piece, I was nodding along to everything you are saying here. One thing that stands out to me is your point about the NBA international prize being more interesting and challenging than the other awards. The aesthetic conservatism of big publishers is at least understandable from a business POV. But why are the awards so aesthetically conservative?
Many factors surely but I think a lot comes down to this: "Yes, I think we over-emphasize the content and especially the premise of any given book, at the expense of how well it is conceived and executed." I've ranted about this in private a lot. Even books I admire only get discussed on their premise--and often not REALLY their premise but a clickbaitable version of the premise. Both in the mainstream and in whatever alternative / indie / countercultural spaces are left, literature is discussed on premise with very little thought to execution. I suspect a lot of that is downstream from social media, where even book reviews only get clicks if they have a snappy headline that gets across the premise...
It's very much the same for most mainstream book reviewing, right? The average NYT review just reiterates the first two-thirds of the plot with maybe one sentence about the style and some qualified criticism in the second to last paragraph. To be fair, this is how most people read: they're get intrigued by the premise, and at the end decide whether it convinced them or not. But I think this leaves the reader without the tools to understand why a book might have disappointed them. After all, wasn't the plot realistic? Didn't the characters seem like real people?
And now we're back to our lowered standards, which lead people to believe that they shouldn't demand more from the books they read, or from themselves as readers. In one of the pieces I linked to the author says basically "I haven't read Long Island Compromise but I'm sure it's great." Why? I have a particular dislike for Fleishman but I don't know anyone who thought it was a "great" book. But if we keep lowering the bar, it becomes one. And then we end up in the place Oyler is talking about, where we feel vaguely disappointed, but have no idea why.
There are so many possibilities available to us as writers and readers. I really do believe that any subject can make for a good book, or at least a good story. Why limit ourselves? Why lower our expectations? It's only in our interest to demand more, and better, from our books.
This was one of the few essays on the topic that I thought had any real substance. Thanks for posting. I’m saving it to reread.
The most interesting books by far that I've read in recent years have been from small indie publishers, both for translated literature and for literature written in English. But, as a small publisher myself, I can tell you it is very hard to keep afloat financially if the sales of such books are so low (and our marketing budgets so small). Which is why so many (even award-winning) publishers have had to shutter their operations. I veer most days somewhere between wild courage and utter despondency and despair.
Hear, hear!!
Nice one rob
This rips
this was great!
When I read "...relentless conglomeration and centralization in the publishing industry...," I immediately rememember a mid-90s meeting with an editor where an 800-page novel was sparead out on his office floor and he said, "It's gonna sell zero copies and I'm gonna publish it."
Glad to see The Wall get recognized here. It's incredible, as are Craig’s other novels.