kottke.org points to a post by Paul
Bausch. Bausch recently talked to Lisa Ede, and the two of them wrestled with the question:
What motivates someone to submit the 1,282nd review of The Poisonwood
Bible to Amazon.com?
Or more generally, to blog a book or movie review? He offers the following
three motivations:
- reputation building
- the wish to tie one's identity to a product
- philosophical exhibitionism: by this unfortunate term he means
"help[ing] people organize their thoughts or simply help[ing] them feel
they're contributing to the common good. If I expose my thinking (as I'm
doing now), and it sparks someone else's interest, or leads them down
another path, I've contributed something to the world."
I think the post captures, in unequal parts, the reasons why I review.
Certainly reputation building is a factor, even though I'm not able to
collect ranking points that will put me in the Amazon Top 500. I try to be
careful about what I write, no matter what the topic, so that a reader might
be persuaded by (or at least interested in) what I have to say on another
topic.
There's a certain "track record" effect that's part of establishing a
reputation: we are more likely to heed someone who's written ten, or a
hundred, movie reviews than someone who writes "I don't usually go to
movies, but you should definately see {March of the Penguins,
Revenge of the Sith, Napoleon Dynamite, ...}. It's awesome."
When I recommend Woolly Mammoth as a good place to see contemporary theater,
I have an archive of more than 20 reviews of their shows to back up my
statement.
Identification with the artifact reviewed is something of a dirty little
secret. What I choose to write about tells you a lot about me, so I'm
measured in my output about popular culture, no matter how much I might
enjoy it. I think that Bausch makes a fine point about "me too" reviews,
when he writes
...some may just want to add a piece of themselves to an official page for a
particular product. It's a bit like leaving an offering at a shrine for a
particular deity.
Most importantly, I write as self-expression and -discovery. I was inspired
by a column by Frank Rich, who wrote something to the effect of "I write to
find out what I think." Alas, mostly what I've discovered is that the more
I read and write, the less I have to say about literature that is
intelligent. Art and dance, a bit less so, but I understand my limitations:
I can clearly write "I liked this pretty object, and here's what's pretty
about it," but that's about it.
When I write about theater, I like to think that I bring a little more to
the table. What comes as a surprise to me, after a few years of scribbling
online, is how often I single out technical aspects of a production: sound
design, lighting, that sort of thing. I think my faculties have been
sharpened by the time I've spent myself wearing black clothes, sitting in
the dark. And it's rare that professional reviewers will talk about tech.
So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when, a few months ago, a
professional designer sent me an e-mail thank you for my amateur compliments
about his show downtown.
One more thought: I try to write about material that not everybody else has
written about. Not for me the obscurity of being reviewer #1282. So I skip
some of the more popular books, and I don't write about movies I see unless
they're in the cinemas. And that's sort of silly, because a lot of people
don't watch movies in the cinema. So maybe I'll start reviewing things I've
only seen on DVD. Even if my plain-Jane TV setup doesn't provide
planet-exploding surround sound.
posted:
5:36:04 PM
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