When I read a review whether it be of a new book, cd or movie, I'm reminded of a quote from a letter written by Anton Chekov in 1890. "When people talk to me of what is artistic and inartistic,
of what is dramatic and not dramatic, of tendency, realism, and so on,
I am bewildered, hesitatingly assent, and answer with banal half-truths
not worth a brass farthing. I divide all works into two classes: those
I like and those I don’t. I have no other criterion, and if you ask me
why I like Shakespeare and don’t like Zlatovratsky, I don’t venture to
answer." The quote can be found in "The Selected Letters of Anton Chekhov" edited and with an Introduction by Lillian Hellman.
I'm with Anton. If people ask me whether or not I would recommend a book, I'm likely to answer either "I liked it" or "I didn't like it". This Chekhov quote was called to my attention about 25 years ago by Bob Slomovitz, my former branch chief at work. I jotted it down in a spiral notebook I've had since 1983 for keeping track of the books I've read so I don't read the same book twice. There are so many similar titles, especially for murder mysteries.
(The notebook's spiral metal spring has been working its way out of one
end so every once in a while I have to carefully re-thread it through
the holes. I don't want to tear the paper.) Bob has been my main source for good reading recommendations. I've respected his judgment ever since he told me that he loved the writing of John Steinbeck but couldn't get into Faulkner.
My reference to this Chekhov quote does not mean that I dislike reviews that get technical about the quality of the writing or the story structure or any other aspect of the work being discussed. Besides, who would read a review if its author didn't give reasons for her or his opinion or compare it to some other work. But beware when book reviewers gush over the beautiful or lyrical writing, almost a sure sign that, to be blunt, the story sucks. Generally the author is so busy trying to impress the reader (or himself?) with writing full of words you have to look up, or dream sequences which I hate, that the story advances at a glacial pace. Sometimes, I admit, such writers come up with some great similes or metaphors that I stop and marvel at thinking, wow, wish I had written that. But it's not worth struggling through a four or five hundred page book for a few phrases that you'll soon forget.
I just finished reading Michael Connelly's "The Brass Verdict". My Chekhovian appraisal: I liked it. Couldn't put it down. I've read 19 of his 21 murder mysteries and plan on reading the other two. Connelly is the best of the genre. I didn't read any reviews prior to reading this story and there are plenty of them on line. With his track record, why bother. The book features attorney Mickey Haller of "Lincoln Lawyer" fame and Connelly's most celebrated character, detective Harry Bosch. Nuff said. Happy reading.
Back to Chekhov. He's best know for the plays "The Seagull", "The Cherry Orchard", "Three Sisters" and "Uncle Vanya" and his short stories. There's a 13 volume Tales of Chekhov translated by Constance Garnett. I've read the plays and volumes 1 - 5 and 7 - 10 of the stories so I still have a few to read. Actually, I could read them all and they'd be like brand new since I read all these works in 1990.