Blayne Sucks

Jeanette DeMain, over on Salon.com, has taken it upon herself to investigate the Amazon.com reviews of classic works of literature. Unsurprisingly, many of them were given horrible one-star reviews. Her thoughts on her findings:

I really have to wonder about these folks. Are they disgruntled students? Trolls? Malcontents who have nothing better to do? Do they think they are tilting at windmills and bravely swimming against the tide of conformity by warning others not to read texts that are universally acknowledged as classics? (In which case I might recommend that they read Cervantes’ “Don Quixote,” but then I’d be afraid to see their reviews of it.)

The more of these that I read, the more I became desperate to find at least one book that would be impervious to the one-star brigade.

She provides several examples in her article. They are quite entertaining if you enjoy the irony of the barely literate trashing generally well-respected works of literature.

Interestingly, a one-star Amazon.com review plays an important role in Surveillance, which I recently reviewed. Lucy, one of the main characters, uses a one-star Amazon.com review as a critical part of her analysis of Augie’s memoir, which is a central element of the plot. Heck, Amazon.com reviews played a role in my review of Surveillance. Thus, the coincidental timing of DeMain’s article amused me.

Beyond entertainment, I have begun wondering about the role of book reviews. I have written numerous reviews for this blog, but I haven’t really considered what role they play. How do book reviews affect the way we think about books? Or the way we choose what to read? Authors don’t really have any control over these things. I had never heard of Giants in the Earth until Allison chose it as her April Great American Novel. She hadn’t heard of it until it was recommended by her father. As a computer scientist, I know that recommendation systems are active areas of research, and I may survey this a bit more after the Spring semester is over. I’m sure if I had studied literature in college this would have given me a much different perspective. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Surveillance by Jonathan Raban is a book that I wasn’t planning on reading. I saw it at Von’s Books last week when I was at Purdue for the CERIAS Symposium. I have a list of books that I look for at used book stores, but Surveillance wasn’t on the list. I saw it on the shelf and thought, “Why not give it a chance?” I’m glad I did because it is an excellent book.

Raban’s writing is fluid and quite fun to read despite the political content, which might otherwise be dense and evoke unthinking knee-jerk reactions. He used a third-person limited omniscient viewpoint throughout the book, but did so in a way that felt very close to the characters. The narrator almost sympathizes with each character in a completely genuine fashion. In addition, Raban’s colorful phrasing made the story vibrant and engaging. His writing style stood out to me as exceptional, which is rather hard to do with fiction.

The story follows five characters as they live their lives in a highly charged political atmosphere. Tad is a HIV-positive homosexual actor who is angry with the government’s recently enacted policies aimed at preventing terrorism. Augie is a Holocaust survivor, professor, and author of a popular memoir of his boyhood years in a concentration camp. Lucy is a freelance writer working on a piece about Augie’s book. Alida is Lucy’s 11-year-old daughter, who loves math and is trying to make sense of the world around her. Charles Lee is a Chinese businessman and owner of several parking lots and the apartment building in which Lucy and Tad live.

The primary plot of the book is Lucy’s investigative reporting of Augie and his memoir. Augie’s memoir is being made into a movie, and little is known about Augie, who is perceived to be a recluse. The circumstances surrounding the publication of the novel open up interesting questions about the nature of history, eye-witness reports, and how our motivations and experiences influence our perspective. Lucy plays the role of an interested, left-leaning investigator while Tad and Augie represent the liberal and conservative perspective in the broader debate that underlies the entire novel. Tad comes off a bit more rabid in his politics than Augie, but they are worthy foils for one another. Charles Lee’s position of power as the landlord for Tad, Lucy, and Alida provides another interesting conflict for discussion.

The book explores numerous smaller subplots to further dissect the politics of terrorism, security, privacy, and freedom. For example, each major character gives their opinions on which publications and newspapers are worth reading and why. This alone would make for an interesting discussion. Also, everyone in the book is portrayed as seeking information about someone else. Lucy seeks info on Augie. Tad on Charles Lee. Charles Lee on Lucy. Alida on her mother and her classmate, Finn. The way the characters approach their quest for information provides yet another discussion point.

The ending of the book may actually provide the biggest discussion point of them all. If you read the Amazon.com reviews for this book, then you’ll see that almost everyone disliked the ending. I hesitate to talk about it much because to do so gives it away. I will simply say that I absolutely loved it. It couldn’t have ended any other way, and it speaks volumes about our current political approach to terrorism, security, and privacy. I’m not sure why other folks didn’t like it, but I suspect that they are missing the broader political statement.

Lastly, this book provides so many fascinating inroads for discussion and paints such a vivid picture of post-9/11 politics as well as the nature of security, privacy, and freedom that I’m going to make a grandiose claim: This could be one of those books that becomes much more popular after its initial release because it so essentially encapsulates the politics of the moment. It has some edgy scenes that might make it too strong to be required reading at a high school, but few other works of fiction so concisely introduce and define contemporary political problems as well as Surveillance does. In addition, the literary risk of the ending and the impressive writing style could easily support a high school level English class discussion. I strongly recommend reading it, particularly if you have a regular book club and enjoy discussing books and politics.