


I review specialist non-fiction as well as genre fiction. Largely the same rules apply - what's the writing like, does the book hang together well and does the author know their stuff? But I'd then expect to make some adjustments. If I'm reviewing fiction, I'll want to talk about characterisation. And I may well refer to different expectations in the sub-genre (like you mention with thrillers, or with romantic suspense where the hero and heroine have to meet, fall in love, argue, fall out of love, fall back in love, get married . . .) With a non-fiction book I'd probably quote more of the text to illustrate what I was saying.
Ultimately reviewing boils down to: is it any good and is it worth the reader's money? And that applies whatever you review.
Sharon Wheeler
Editor: Reviewing The Evidence
Blog
The combination of question and example suggest that what is at issue is the idea of exemptions for genres. What is being asked in the example (for example) is that thrillers be allowed an exemption from realism. There are several difficulties with this. First, there is no standing prohibition from unreality in the literary bylaws. A glance at the winners and shortlists for awards such as the Man Booker, Pulitzer and Nobel over the past decade is enough to show otherwise. Second, there are no literary bylaws; there is no central reviewing authority capable of granting such an exemption. The rules of good writing are written by writers confident enough in what they're doing to do it, self-aware (or intuitive, or lucky) enough to do it well, and savvy and articulate enough to sell it widely as worthwhile. Good writers expand literature to include their writing.
This leads to the third problem with asking for such an exemption: at heart it boils down to asking that genre books be exempt from good writing. Indeed I think asking for this sort of exemption is based on a misapprehension of what good fiction writing is. A serious reviewer is unlikely to object to a thriller simply because it is not "realistic." What the reviewer is asking themselves is, did the author's choices work together to make the story thrill? If the protagonist is superhuman but no other characters are, then that advantage may make the book thrill less. If the protagonist acts superhuman only when the plot requires it, then the contrived feel of the plot may make the book thrill less. If the protagonist's superhuman abilities obviate character-revealing choices they would have otherwise had to make, then the lack of characterization may make the book thrill less -- because the reader may care less.
In other words, there is often a false sense that good writing is something at odds with (or at best, orthogonal to) genre goals. On the contrary, the point of good writing is to help writers accomplish their goals. It is important to note that it is not about being "realistic": I can think of any number of scenarios where choosing to enable a protagonist to act in a superhuman manner could enhance rather than detract from the story. The focus on realism is a straw man. The key for the writer is to be aware of what choices are available and what their impact is; the key for the reviewer is to be sensitive to what choices the author made and how well they work. So to the extent that the question about "different reviewing criteria" asks whether genre fiction should be exempt from being reviewed according to the standards of good literature, then the answer must be no. Those criteria are essential to reviewing.
That said, it makes no sense to condemn how Jane Austen's choices render Sense and Sensibility a poor thriller, or to decry the lack of science fictional underpinnings in Richard Wright's Native Son. There is clearly something more we need to take into account when reviewing fiction. In addition to the common set of literary criteria, genres properly understood must each have their own additional criteria that their works need to be reviewed by, that which constitutes their inclusion in the genre. Fantasy that contradicts reality in only unimportant ways will generally fail as fantasy; science fiction that contains no new scientific ideas or new ways of looking at ideas through a scientific mind-set will generally fail as science fiction; the thriller that satisfies all the requirements of good literature yet fails to evoke a sense of scale and importance will typically be a lackluster thriller. (Failure in genre criteria is so often the failing of genre books by accomplished authors unused to the genre in question.) So in this sense, yes, different genres have their own criteria that they should be reviewed by - but these criteria are in addition to, rather than instead of, literary criteria. (You can imagine the ubiquitous Venn diagram, with "literary criteria" as the shared center.)
This all sounds fairly definitive, but the truth is that the world of fiction is in a great deal of flux right now -- and the reviewing world along with it. The growth of the WWW has created a vast new body of reviewers; genre publishers (at least in speculative fiction) have taken to carpet-bombing these new reviewers with advance reading copies, guided by the mantra that a bad review is better than no review. As a result it can be difficult for new reviewers to determine their desired level of engagement, and to match themselves up with appropriate books to engage with. At the same time (and exacerbating this), in the literary world there has been an increased fuzziness in genre borders. New movements and new genre blends have added a new layer of complexity; where before genres acted as signposts, now readers (and reviewers) must constantly determine what genre conversation or conversations books belong to - if indeed they have not begun a new conversation. It is an exciting time for fiction, and reviewers may prove more important than ever in marking paths towards appreciating many of these new works.
How much of all this to convey in a review - the prescriptive "should" of the question -- depends a great deal on the reviewer. While I suspect there is room for all levels of engagement, so long as it is honest and self-aware, I do think it is important for the health of any genre that at least some reviewers strive to write reviews for readers (as opposed to scholarly criticism) using a full set of criteria, both literary and genre.
Why is it important to employ a full set of reviewing criteria? At a high level, genres each reflect a different aspect of how people view the world. Science fiction, it has been said (again by Wolfe among others), reflects what people today perceive of current trends, projected into future. I am less familiar with crime fiction but I will hazard a guess: crime fiction may reflect what people are thinking about in terms of the overlaps between human nature and human rights. Being able to tap into these reflections, which in our post-9/11 world seem more pertinent than ever, comes via the combination of literary and genre reviewing criteria. Literary criteria helps us to decipher what the novel is saying, and genre criteria to determine what the words mean.
More practically, consistently being subject to only one set of reviewing criteria can be very damaging to a genre. Genres are dialogs, conversations, and a well-written book that adds nothing to the conversation -- or worse, rehashes topics already covered -- will have limited appeal, whatever its literary merit. Reviewing by literary criteria alone is thus insufficient: it is genre reviewing criteria that allows us a sense of a work's timeliness and originality of vision. Yet reviewing by genre criteria alone is no better. The danger of ignoring literary reviewing criteria and focusing only on genre-specific criteria is that without the literary lens, adherence to the set pieces and roles that make up the genre becomes the sole measure of quality within the genre. A genre judged only by itself slowly devours itself, wringing every possible variation out of its sacred texts until there is nothing left. Readers then begin avoiding the genre: literary reviewing criteria give readers a shared, cross-genre set of qualities to recommend books by, while genre criteria are often incomprehensible to those not already familiar with the genre. And finally, authors who wish to be appreciated on their literary merit as well as their genre ideas will also reject the genre's shelves in favor of general fiction, if their works are judged by genre criteria alone. Skeptics' views of genre as something lesser or cheaper would then be realized.
As someone who loves genre deeply, I would hate to see that happen; as someone who writes reviews, I'm doing what I can not to let it happen.
Matt reviews for Fantasy Bookspot
For example each genre has certain tropes or characteristics that are commonly associated with it. A review of a particular book, within a particular genre, may address the handling of these tropes. So certain things that are addressed in one genres review may not be addressed in another. For example sometimes the discussion of fantasy books revolves around world-building. Rightly or wrongly this is something associated within the genre of post-Tolkien fantasy. Some authors and books are better at it then others and it is sometimes mentioned in reviews but a discussion of world building wouldn't even come up in the novels of Allan Guthrie (even though his novels are all connected).
But the addressing of tropes from different perspectives can also produce some interesting results. Some reviewers (who are active participants in the genre) of The Road by Cormac McCarthy took exception to its post apocalyptic setting, comparing it to other novels in a broadly similar setting. A Canticle for Leibowitz was sometimes invoked. Other reviewers, who may or may not know about the tradition of post-apocalyptic fiction in science fiction and fantasy, found the book to be bold and original. Something similar happen back in 1980 when Riddley Walker was published. Both of these examples beg a larger question though, whose assessment of a "genre" book is right, the active participant or the outsider? Maybe in their own ways they both are.
But aside from certain tropes or characteristics I think that there are certain shared indicators of quality that are not wholly owned by any one genre, like character development. Severian from The Book of the New Sun is as much of a fully developed, complex character as Lew Griffin.
Also, in terms of story a plot hole is a plot hole regardless of whether it takes place on a spaceship, a created world or a city that exists. This is a basic, nuts and bolts kind of problem that needs to be addressed in some capacity in any analysis of the book.
So maybe the best review is one that addresses both the genre-related issues but also keeps an eye open to those other, more universal qualities.
I firmly believe that the most successful cross-genre books are able to so effectively mix the tropes that all genres involved can claim it as their own. I wrote about my thoughts on this in my review of Already Dead.
Unlike other novels that purport to mix the fantastic or supernatural with the mystery novel Already Dead is a pitch perfect hard-boiled private eye tale first and a tale of the fantastic second, which isn't to diminish the supernatural aspects, trust me they are there. This is the quality that in and of itself separates it from the pack. Most tales born of this hybrid are Fantasies told in a Mystery setting instead of a Mystery told in a Fantasy setting. It might not seem like there is much of a difference but they are in fact worlds apart. When a writer of fantasy creates the characters or worlds in which this hybrid tale is told it is often times perceived by readers of mysteries as the work of a dilettante, someone wanting only to infuse the fantasy genre with something different. But the "different" in question is in all actuality something that is commonplace, after all mystery novels, in all shapes and forms, represent a sizable portion of the market. Without much exertion one could easily name tropes and clichés of that genre as well as the icons and more popular examples.
One has to recognize that not unlike other genres the mystery genre has its own sub-genres and each of these sub-genres has its own style, tone, feel and rules. A police procedural reads NOTHING like a thriller or a cozy, nor would you want it to. So, the fantasy author in question needs to carefully choose what type of mystery story that they want to meld with their fantasy creation, and then seamlessly blend the two. This is not easy to do, especially so that EVERYONE is happy, mystery and fantasy fans alike. Often books of this nature miss more then they hit. But the interesting thing about this is that the readers aren't always aware of the misses. If the fantasy reader isn't aware of the false notes that the police procedural portion of the story isn't ringing true then it doesn't deter them from enjoying the fantasy story at hand which is still different from other fantasy tales out there, which again was probably the point.
However, when a tale is crafted though that rings true on all counts, both fantasy and mystery, then what you have in your hands is not regarded as a novelty but instead a rarity and a classic as well. Already Dead is just such a book. You could easily hand the book to a mystery fan and they would recognize and claim it as one of their own, now it would be prudent to recognize Huston's pedigree in the genre, namely the now completed Hank Thompson trilogy, though that alone wouldn't facilitate the allegiance. You could also give the book to a fantasy or horror fan and they too would claim it as one of their own. Perhaps the most important thing for just such a work would be that they would all be correct.
In recent years, under various names, there has been a new breed of fiction published. Cross pollinating freely among the genres to create something new. Already Dead is not only a perfect example of what can be accomplished with this technique but it also serves as a picture perfect example of the down side of cross genre writing. It SHOULD appeal to fans of dark fantasy, fantasy, horror, science fiction, PI and noir. But it fell through the cracks and nobody read it. It got a nominal amount of press in mystery circles based on Huston's Hank Thompson trilogy, but in other genre circles, not much.
I also would point to a great, multi-genre writer, Dan Simmons and an interview that he gave: You have written in so many genres. How do you prepare to switch genres? When you sit down to write your next book, do you have to get into a different mindset to write a gritty p.i. story than when you write SF?
Writing in different genres requires wildly different mindsets -- and also wildly different approaches in research, style, plotting, characterization, use of dialogue, and narrative. Just because John Updike can write a good "Updike novel" with all of its sinful suburban goings-on doesn't mean that he could write a serious SF novel if his life depended on it. Genres aren't ghettos -- or shouldn't be (too often they accept that fate) -- but they are like different species of animals on a complex evolutionary tree; they have adapted and refined their own ecological niche, with their own evolved protocols, tropes, themes, shortcuts, and histories.
Brian reviews for Mystery Bookspot