Gail Pool

Book reviews are, of course, a subject of dispute across many sectors of the reading and publishing communities; Pool accurately points out that even defining the nature of a book review is fairly slippery. Professionals clash with amateurs; readers clash with critics. Essentially, however, the author notes that book reviewing centers specifically around new books, recent publications. A review should have two major elements, an accurate description of what the book's text encompasses and an evaluation or assessment of how well the book succeeds. Assuming that the book review is intended for formal publication, there is a deadline to be met. The reviewer is hampered by the need to make a relatively quick assessment without necessarily having time to properly digest the book. The review may not be literary criticism, but it should be able to serve as a guide for potential readers, guiding them away from mediocrity while spotlighting the good and hopefully the excellent. In Pool's eyes, the review should be "an essay, however brief, an argument, bolstered by insights and observations" (see page 11 of the hardcover).

Of course the gap between theory and the practical is always greater than we like to admit. Gail Pool spends the bulk of her time in this slim volume, explaining the real drivers of and constraints on reviews and reviewing in the real-world publishing business and how that impacts on the the process. She covers the reviewing process without glossing over the ugly bits -- reviews where it is clear the reviewer did not, in fact, read the book in question or instances where the review criticizes the author, not for having written a bad book, but for having written a book that did not meet a reviewer's preferences. She even notes the ever-present hyperbole and cliched phrasing of book reviews ("luminous prose", "towering achievement", etc.). But neither is she a fan of the Amazon.com reviews and she makes no apologies for her disdain. Pool recognizes that writing a good book review requires time to read the book, time to consider the material and careful crafting of the final written assessment. (Pool is a professional reviewer which of course colors her argument but I don't think she's entirely self-serving in her thinking.)

Pool has ideas for improving book reviewing as a professional activity - more considered selection of what is to be reviewed, better pay for the activity and training for those who think they might want to pursue reviewing as a vocation. She recommends a greater dependence upon paid, regular columnists. She suggests that publication editors and reviewers should take more time to discuss why a particular book should be reviewed and how much space the review should be granted. Finally, she suggests that clear editorial policies regarding ethics and practice would be of service to those who review books and the readership they serve.… (altro)

I loved this book. I could just stop with that, but that probably wouldn't be fair to author Gail Pool. It's her own story, but I hesitate to call it a memoir, mostly because, well, here's what she says about memoirs -

"I loathe memoir. I dislike writing about myself - I seldom write anything about myself - and I dislike all this writing about selves that now permeates our literary world. The narcissism. The self-regard. The self-drama!"

or

"In truth I have no desire to write something personal. I say this to myself, and I say it to others as well. I say it often. Our world is too full of the personal: all these memoirs - HOW I GOT TO BE ME, WHY I LIKE BEING ME, WHY I HATE BEING ME ..."

And yet LOST AMONG THE BAINING, is a book which is, more than anything else, all about Gail Pool and her husband Jeremy (in fact at one point, she even suggested to him that they write it together, at which he laughed). But it's not just about them, and their long contentious marriage of nearly fifty years. It's about one particular sixteen-month period at the end of the sixties - a time they spent doing field work among the Baining, a very primitive tribe of New Britain, in the Territory of Papua and New Guinea. It was a very difficult time. They were there because Jeremy needed to do "field work" as an Anthropology student. Gail was not sure what her role in this should be and she had no desire to be "just the wife." Both high achievers and Harvard grads, the Pools' marriage is one of continuous but unacknowledged competition, a source of constant friction. Their time with the Baining, a tribe which lived as close to the bone as one can imagine, stuck with them for more than forty years, an unscratchable itch. The experience was so unpleasant, so demoralizing and defeating, that Jeremy quit anthropology, and finally ended up working in computer software - a long way from the study of primitive peoples. Gail got additional degrees, in Creative Writing and Library Science, but continued to stew quietly over that Baining experience, which haunted them over the next forty years. Until they finally decided to go back. And they did. Therein pretty much hangs their tale.

What makes the Pools' story so delightful, so charming, and often very funny, is the author's self-deprecating sense of humor, her ability to poke fun at her younger self, and at her older self too for that matter. Because, as I've already said, although there is plenty here about the frustratingly taciturn Baining people, and the hazards and tribulations of journeying into the remote jungled mountains and then living there under the most Spartan of conditions, on a diet of mostly taro root, with little personal privacy, this is most of all a book about Gail Pool. And how she acts, adjusts (or fails to), complains, rails, whines, screams, throws things, etc. And not just in the jungle, but for years afterward. She doesn't pull any punches, she does not spare herself. Indeed, sometimes she just does not seem like a very nice person. And yet, and yet - I have to say that this was one of the funniest damn memoirs (yup, sorry, Gail; it's a memoir, all about YOU, YOU, YOU) I have read in years. I chuckled, I laughed, I guffawed. All of the above.

Okay then. It's a memoir, and it's a damn funny one. Not your usual kind of memoir, I'll admit, turning as it does on that one pivotal period of the Pools' life, when they were very young. In fact, I'm still a little curious about the author's early years, about her childhood on the Lower East Side of New York City, and what sounds like a rather unhappy family life which may have driven her into a too-early, too-young marriage. She remains strangely silent on these things, and that is her right. Such omissions do not harm the quality of her story at all. It is simply a peach of a memoir. (Yup, MEMOIR!) I think I've come full circle, so this time I will stop. I loved this book. Absolutely loved it. Very, very highly recommended.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER… (altro)

FAINT PRAISE was a tough book to read, for a couple of reasons. One is simply that it is simply dense with information and research on the dismal state of book reviewing and perhaps even publishing and writing in general, in America today, making it a work which requires very close reading. A bit of a slog, even. And I really wanted to know and understand what author Gail Pool had to say, so believe me, I worked at it. The other reason it was tough to read was because I love books, and I love to read a good review too. And I have observed first-hand what has happened to the book pages in newspapers and magazines over the past several years. Yes, for all of you who share my love of books and reading - it's the case of the "incredible shrinking book page."
It's sad, believe me.

I live in Michigan and subscribe to The Grand Rapids Press, and have watched the Sunday book page(s) shrink from two pages to one, to a half, and sometimes barely a quarter page, along with the ever-present NYTimes bestsellers (an increasingly disappointing list of always the same tiresome non-literary (mostly) authors, churning out the same potato-chip schlock, and non-fiction merde about whatever the latest fad or headline might be). I was also saddened and appalled when the Washington Post Book World ceased to be a separate section and many of their staff columnists and reviewers were let go (including even, I believe, Pulitzer prize-winner Michael Dirda, who continues however to contribute reviews and pieces on a fairly regular basis). I can also remember fondly my home-delivered subscription for the NY Times Book Review, also no longer a separate option for those of us in the hinterlands.

Pool, a career book reviewer and book review editor for various publications, lays out methodically all that is wrong with book reviewing in America, cutting right to the chase, starting with the explosion of new books every year (she says 150,000 new books each year, but by now I think it's closer to 200,000) and how impossible it is to cover even a small percentage of those. She talks too of how the major New York publishing houses (now mostly controlled by European conglomerates) have a stranglehold on the attention of all the major print media which feature book reviews. (Of course they do; it's all about advertising and the bottom line.) So of course the smaller publishers, independent or university presses, get short shrift from reviewers as a matter of course.

She then cites historical references to how reviewers have always been thought of, epitomized by one of her chapter headings: "Vermin, Dogs, and Woodpeckers." It's not surprising then when she dwells on the dismally low wage paid to book reviewers, a situation that has changed very little for decades. Indeed, it may have even gotten worse with the upsurge of unpaid and unskilled - not to say poorly written - reader "reviews" which now show up online at sites like Amazon and B&N by the thousands.

Pool even gives Oprah her due, but only as a "cheerleader" for books, which is certainly true, but God knows reading, books and literacy need a champion in this distracted, digital age of the sound-byte.

Although Pool attempts to make suggestions for improving the situation and providing better reviews for a better and wider selection of books, it is sadly obvious to me that most of her carefully thought out suggestions and reasonable (to lovers of books and reading) arguments will probably fall on deaf ears, if indeed they fall on any ears at all. Because, in addition to that tyrannical "bottom line" thinking propagated by the huge foreign companies that now control publishing in this country, America has already been thoroughly "dumbed down" in nearly every aspect of life. The community of discerning readers and lovers of literature and good writing continues to shrink exponentially every day. So although I applaud and agree with almost everything Pool has to say in FAINT PRAISE, I have very little hope that things will get better.

The truth is, I was very hesitant to try to "review" this book at all, because I'm one of those "self-published reviewers" she talks about that populate the online booksellers' product pages. And I will admit, with no little embarrassment, that I often rattle off a quick "review" without spending a lot of time thinking about it - reactionary rambles, you might call them. I'm not alone, of course, but that's no excuse. I characterize my "reviews" as ABE, "awkward but earnest," and I can only hope my enthusiasm for a book shows through. And yes, my reactions are largely positive. Because I know that the writer's lot in America today - like the reviewer's - is not an easy one. Why make it harder? If I don't like a book, I simply don't finish it, and certainly don't bother to review it. And this is almost without exception. I try my best to make an honest assessment of whatevery I read.

I very much appreciate Gail Pool's scholarly and incisive look at all that is wrong with book reviewing. She handled it with thoroughness, wit, and professionalism. I feel "improved" for having read it. Now if I can just work at improving what I currently call my ABE reviews. It's just that there are still so many GOOD books I want to read, and so little time. Maybe I'll somehow manage to write at least a decent, workmanlike review on occasion. I hope she'll forgive me for the sloppy ones.… (altro)