my definition of crap
Beth started the discussion of crap, which was then picked up (pretty much simultaneously) by Candy at Smart Bitches, and by me. There are some very interesting bits and pieces in the comments to Candy's post.
These discussions are interesting to me because I've been thinking about them for a long time, though in my posts here I've never been as direct as Candy or Beth. For them the question seems to boil down to something fairly straight forward: why can't we admit that some books are just crappy?
Really, the bigger discussion is about aesthetics and relativity and a lot of very complex philosophical tenets. Which I'm going to leave alone for the time being. Maybe, forever. Another wrinkle: one of the interesting comments over at Candy's has to do with the role of authorial voice in the evaluation of a piece of fiction. That subconversation was started by Robin, and it's a good thing to think about, but again, I'm trying to keep things as simple as possible for the moment.
So in a nutshell, my take on all this:
If we had a hundred authors and a hundred dedicated, thoughtful readers and a place to hold a year long retreat (say, Hawaii), all expenses (including mortgages) paid, we probably could not come up with a set of criteria we'd agree on that would allow us to easily shift the crap from the not-crap in the world of fiction. Each of us can do that, of course, for ourselves. If I sat down in a room with every novel I've ever read (this would be a very big room), I could easily put every book in one pile or another. Some of the piles would be: I have no memory of this book (i.e., a forgettable story); this was a crappy novel, and I hated it; this was a crappy novel, and I liked it; this was a well written novel and I hated it; this was a well written novel and I liked it.
And then there would be a pile of novels that I love, independent of whatever other category they may fall into. You want an example: a really badly done romance novel that I still re-read on occasion because... I dunno. I love the characters, though they infuriate me. I love the story inspite of the fact that it is so very flawed in so many ways. Here it is, a guilty pleasure: Mackenzie's Mission, by Linda Howard.
There are other books by Howard which I don't love at all, and which are flawed enough for me to put them in my crap pile. For example, I will never, ever get over Son of the Morning, in which a woman with a PhD conducting research on a number of very complex and specialized historical topics turns to... an encylopedia. Oh, man. The whole book was full of stuff like that. Crap.
To get back to my point (and I do have one): I agree that neither authors nor readers are served by a it's-all-good approach in reviewing.
Further, in reviewing any given novel, it's important to remember that some people pick up a book first and foremost for the story, while others care primarily about the characters, or the prose, or the setting. There are many readers who have litmus tests. They are only interested in novels about WWII, or espionage, or true love. Mostly, in the end, readers want a good story. First and last. They will put up with all kinds of garbage if the story is strong enough.
And there are readers who want it all. They want a good story, strong characters, solid research, great dialogue, interesting themes, and beautiful prose. They want all that, and a cherry on top. That's what I want, anyway. Every time I pick up a novel I'm hoping it will be all these things.
Books that manage to miss everyone of those bells? That's my personal definition of crap.