Stephen Romei reveals the ungenteel side of book reviews
1. Going postal
You will get more mail than Justin Bieber. Every working day the R [for Romei] pigeonhole at my office overflows, with parcels spilling sideways to block the Q and S, while also towering upwards to intimidate the K. All those bubble-wrap lined envelopes and Styrofoam-filled boxes contain books, even the big ones that look serious enough to hold a case of scotch (they never do). Why do books need such swaddling? They're hardly going to break. Memo to all publishing publicists: just whack ’em in an envelope and post ’em, for goodness sake.
2. Spoiled for choice
It follows that there are many, many more books published than there is newspaper space to review them. In The Weekend Australian we review about 20 books each week, while receiving at least 20 a day. That means you will have to tell a lot of publicists, and sometimes the authors themselves, that their book is not going to be reviewed. Some literary editors deal with this by ignoring their phone and email for days, months, years. I prefer the Band-Aid approach: rip it off, tell them straight and wish them better luck next time.
3. The great unread
If there are more books being published than there is space to review them, multiply this by a factor of infinity when it comes to your ability to read them. Not only is it impossible to keep up with new books but your to-read pile will grow exponentially as you add old books that you read about or that others recommend to you. When I look at the alleged to-read pile beside my bed (I normally include an adjective in that phrase, but let’s keep things clean), I silently pray for a smallish house fire.
4. It’s not about I
You must edit books pages for every reader, not just yourself. So you need a cross-section of book reviews, covering fiction and nonfiction. I did once put out a books section devoted entirely to my own tastes, and it didn’t go down well. Who knew that rugby league, horse racing and beer tasting were such niche interests?
5. Their pride and joy
While you have to think about a lot of different books every day, authors only think about one: their own. It’s worth bearing this in mind and being sympathetic. Authors devote years to their books and, like all new parents, think their offspring is special.
6. Almost famous
You will get to know, even just a little, writers you have long admired. Having lunch with Peter Carey may not be quite the same as hanging out with Mickey Rourke, but if you are a bookish type it has its own cool.
7. Putting the pub in publishing
This is a bit like hanging out with Mickey Rourke: writers are members of an endangered minority – people who still like to drink a lot and stay out late. At the recent Sydney Writers’ Festival there was a near riot one night when a certain hotel tried to close its bar at 11pm. Pens were cast aside and swords were taken up, and management quickly reopened the spigots. I was there mainly to pay because most writers wouldn't shout if a shark bit them.
8. Adverse reaction
Never get into an argument about poetry. Take my word on this.
9. Master class
When it comes to writing book reviews, the five rules of American novelist and critic John Updike are hard to go past: 1. Try to understand what the author wished to do, and do not blame him for not achieving what he did not attempt. 2. Give enough direct quotation – at least one extended passage – of the book’s prose so the review’s reader can form his own impression, can get his own taste. 3. Confirm your description of the book with quotation from the book, if only phrase-long, rather than proceeding by fuzzy precis. 4. Go easy on plot summary, and do not give away the ending. 5. If the book is judged deficient, cite a successful example along the same lines, from the author’s oeuvre or elsewhere. Try to understand the failure. Sure it’s his and not yours?
10. The end
I wanted to give the final word to The Australian’s chief literary critic Geordie Williamson, winner of this year's Pascall Prize for critical writing, so I asked him to name his guiding principle of book reviewing, and this was his reply:
Always remember Edmond de Goncourt’s words: “The newspaper is the natural enemy of the book, as the whore is of the decent woman.”
Geordie went on to elaborate on this, but we’re out of space, which I suspect demonstrates his point.
Stephen Romei is The Australian’s literary editor


