proctorc13 – Snopes

Are you one of those people who scrupulously read reviews before embarking on a new book? Do you scan the New York Times book review section and earmark the New Yorker for their favorite recent literary discoveries? If so, I have a lot of respect for you. I’m not one of those people; in fact, I’d never really thought about book reviews until we talked about it the other day in class. Sure, I’d scanned them with a vaguely interested eye in magazines and newspapers, but I never considered choosing my next book or altering my opinion of one I’d already read based on a reviewer’s words. Reviews seemed like longer versions of the book reports that haunted my middle school years and since I didn’t give them more than a cursory glance, book reviews did not really have a chance to redeem themselves in my mind.

I recently read the The Liar’s Club by Mary Karr. In this unique, intricately described portrayal of her tumultuous childhood, Karr brings her atypical parents into a vivid light with anecdotes and recollections. With curiosity, after hearing about the significance of book reviews, I decided to do some research after the fact and see what the critics had to say about this memoir. I’d already formed my opinion and I loved it. At random, I chose Jonathan Yardley’s review from The Washington Post archives. * The review is ten years old, but such is the nature of books to stay the same over time, so it remains applicable. After reading his thoughts on the memoir, I had a few of my own. Yardley comments on the nature of Karr’s parent’s marriage: “[It] had its moments of tenderness and happiness, but much of the time it was fractious, noisy and self-destructive.” He also addresses Karr’s relationship with her sister, which was a “Far from tranquil alliance.” I agree with these insights, as Karr’s youth was clearly not ideal or normal. However, it is his final conclusions regarding Karr’s motive for writing that I can’t exactly align with. Yardley observes that The Liar’s Club, similarly to other memoirs, is “A tribute to and lament for a world its author no longer occupies…she most surely regrets what she left behind, and she makes us regret it too. The Liars’ Club is a beauty.” Yes, it is a profound and inspiring memoir, but I do not think that Karr intends for the reader to mourn for the life she has left behind. I was not left with a longing for Texas in the 1960’s, and I don’t believe that Karr has this feeling either. Instead, she has an enlightened perspective that, without the cathartic act of writing this book, could have remained allusive. Ultimately, it is apparent that the interpretations and observations of reviewers can alter a reader’s opinion towards the book. This can be seen as both a supplementary, or potentially unhelpful, element to the process of choosing a book and then reflecting on it afterwards.

*http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/09/AR2009110901993.html

The human body has five, equally important senses of perception- touch, smell, taste, hearing and vision. When reading a piece of fiction or poem in the traditional manner, one needed only two of these senses: seeing and touching. You held the book or paper in your hand and used your eyes to visualize the words. However, with technology and the Internet, there is an opportunity to employ additional senses to absorb and appreciate literature. As an online publication, Shenandoah is entrenched in this new, evolving digital world. Poets can now record their poems, giving readers the choice to listen to their work. Though this is not available for the fiction and non-fiction genres, the act of reading stories online gives the reader an entirely diverse experience. Scanning through a webpage requires slightly more effort and concentration, and it is tempting to scroll through less interesting passages in order to reach the climax or ending. As well, you cannot highlight or make notes in the margins, which limits the interaction with the author’s words and intended message.

This begins a debate, one that I have thought about a lot recently as I listened to books on tape during long, monotonous road trips. How is the art of listening to a creative piece different from tangibly, physically holding and reading it? Arguably, you are using the same amount of senses since eyesight is traded for ears and their ability to hear. Auditory “reading” allows you to multitask, as books become even more transportable. With this benefit comes the drawback of unconcentrated attention and the potential for daydreaming and images of to-do lists. Though I admire the convenience factor of downloadable books, I will not trade my beloved paperbacks for an e-reader in the near future, nor do I envision transitioning to a solely auditory consumption of literature. After going back to one of the books I listened to earlier this summer, I discovered the act of reading gave me the ability to examine the author’s syntax and to appreciate word choice to a greater extent as sentences can be read again and chapters pored over with an alert eye. Though Shenandoah is online and the act of possessing, touching and reading an actual journal is not feasible, the other possibilities associated with a literary journal have subsequently expanded. Images can be incorporated into the stories, either as supplemental information or simply as a thematic or decorative addition to the webpage. Videos are increasingly popular as supplementary elements to literature since poems can be presented in song form or simply recited in a more visually appealing way. Essentially, the simple experience has become multidimensional. Although I don’t foresee literary journals, particularly Shenandoah, being replaced by videos or audio recordings of poems or fictions, I do think it is important to be cognizant of how technology enhances, or detracts from, the way we interact with literature and creative works.

To Review or Not to Review?

Reading with Senses