About 60,000 volumes are annually published in Germany, France, Italy, Great Britain, and the United States. Germany heads the list, with something less than 25,000, and the United States ends it, with between five and six thousand titles, although it should be added that Continental figures refer to all material bearing an imprint published for circulation whether pamphlet or book. Aside from purely scientific and specialistic publications those intended for public perusal of all grades of literacy and intelligence may be classified as history, biography, travel, belles-lettres (including art, criticism, and poetry), and fiction. It is the work of the literary critic to write about these books in such a manner that neither the author nor the public may suffer injustice by their purchase or non-purchase. The critic must explain their purpose, point out their merits and imperfections, and compare their features with the features of other books on the same subject. In short, he should tell the public whether to read the book or not. He should do so in an entertaining manner.

Now the way this end is achieved in America often excites the derision of the literary foreigner; for although most American reviews are readable enough, they often lack the critical emphasis and literary scope and color so conspicuous in the literary criticism of the British and Continental reviews. But the foreigner overlooks the fact that American reviewers usually have something to say about every publication which claims to appeal to a reading public, and that many of these would be absolutely ignored by foreign critics, who are possibly right—when we consider their readers—in selecting only what they deem worthy of their knowledge and critical acumen. The foreign man-of-letters' idea of what should constitute the functions of the critic I find most admirably laid down in Mr. Arthur Symons's introduction to a new edition of Coleridge's "Biographia Literaria" in Everyman's Library. Mr. Symons writes:—

The aim of criticism is to distinguish what is essential in the work of a writer; and in order to do this, its first business must be to find out where he is different from all other writers. It is the delight of the critic to praise; but praise is scarcely a part of his duty. He may often seem to find himself obliged to condemn; yet condemnation is hardly a necessary part of his office. What we ask of him is, that he should find out for us more than we can find out for ourselves: trace what in us is a whim or leaning to its remote home or centre of gravity, and explain why we are affected in this way or that way by this or that writer. He studies origins in effects, and must know himself, and be able to allow for his own mental and emotional variations, if he is to do more than give us the records of his likes and dislikes. He must have the passion of the lover, and be enamored of every form of beauty; and, like the lover, not of all equally, but with a general allowance of those least to his liking. He will do well to be not without a touch of intolerance: that intolerance which, in the lover of the best, is an act of justice against the second-rate. The second-rate may perhaps have some reason for existence: that is doubtful; but the danger of the second-rate, if it is accepted "on its own merits," as people say, is that it may come to be taken for the thing it resembles, as a wavering image in water resembles the rock which it reflects.

Obviously, here in America we have a sympathetic tolerance for the "second-rate." But such tolerance is not without its excuse. The fault of the uncritical element in many of the book notices which appear in American newspapers and magazines lies to a large extent at the door of the author who gives us material which humiliates and silences criticism, although a certain expository attention must be given for the very fact that the book invariably has a public awaiting it. For such gratuitous attention the author should be grateful. At least his public is not misled.

Literary criticism is a distinct department of literature, with its functions and limits as clearly defined as are those of any of the creative departments,—history, biography, fiction. It presupposes on the part of the writer the possession of a knowledge of permanent literature, of the rules of literary construction, of trained taste in selecting models, and of a quick imagination capable of perceiving pertinent comparisons and setting forth vivid impressions. Writers like Lessing, Victor Cousin, Matthew Arnold, and Jules LemaÎtre have exercised in criticism a system which is quite as capable of exposition and analysis as that of the historian, the poet, or the novelist. In America this system has also done its best, without entirely prostituting its art, to meet the exigencies and claims of pseudo-literary production and its sympathetic, impressionable public.

Until within quite recent years there were only two acknowledged schools of criticism: the scientific and the classical. The former gauged the work to be criticised by rule and measure; the latter compared it with models which had long been established as criterions of good taste. Then came the impressionistic school, in which the critic, while not unmindful of accepted and approved rules of construction and expression or of classical paradigms, allowed the author more license, more individuality, and permitted himself the same freedom in noting a thing good, bad, or indifferent, because it so appealed to his personal taste at the time of perusal and quite independent of what had gone before. This impressionistic criticism is essentially a personal view, and without it very few current books could be considered critically at all.Now of the 5000 odd books annually brought out in the United States there are possibly not more than 100, including half a dozen novels, which are worthy subjects for the professional critic. If this be deemed an exaggeration, one has only to look over the Publishers' List of twenty-five years ago and see how many books then published are read to-day. Why, then, do the 4900 receive any attention?

Books, like every other commercial commodity, whether presented under the guise of art or science, have their production regulated by the law of supply and demand. The ability to read print in the United States is pretty general, and this ability is diffused among all sorts and conditions of people of vastly varied ideas as to what may give instruction, satisfaction, or pleasure in the form of books. We know that a large majority of the people who read do not read what is considered the best. The enormous circulation of the "Yellow Press," the low literary value of books of rapidly succeeding phenomenal editions, prove this. Criticism, except in acknowledged "literary" reviews, has been obliged to take into account the mental limitations and tastes of the readers of the 4900 books, and so it fixes its standard of popular exposition and elucidation at a little above the average taste, and does its best to explain according to the author's own lights what to criticise would be remorselessly to condemn.But do all the one hundred worthy and elect books receive correct treatment according to the tenets of criticism? it may be asked. Probably not at every hand and in all cases. And here may be introduced another cause of the lack of proficient literary criticism noticed by the literary foreigner in American magazines, and especially in those pages of the daily and weekly press devoted to books. The discussion of books which once occupied several pages in American monthly magazines is now principally confined to the books issued by the publishing house which also publishes the magazine. What has come to be known as the "news value" of books cannot suffer a review of a novel by a prominent author or of a book on a current political or sociological topic to appear a month or two or three after the publication of the book itself. The eagerness of the public can hardly wait for an elaborate review in the press. Thus the newspapers rival one another in setting before their readers the first "news" of the book. It is usually impossible to expect "criticism" in such active circumstances. The public neither expects nor desires it. This leads to expositions in which are incorporated generous citations from the book, and from this the public is invited to form its own opinion. When such an exposition is properly done, a reader can tell whether he wishes to peruse the book as a whole. In late years this system of exposition has been growing in popularity,—a popularity no doubt augmented by the reader's increasing desire to be his own critic,—so now only the more important historical, biographical, and travellers' books receive expert criticism. Why wait months to get expert opinion on a popular book on Russia, Ibsen, or a journey in search of one of the poles, while the public is impatient to find out simply whether the book is entertaining? And again, how expert is expert opinion? I know of one famous biography of a famous man which, having been accepted as "the" authority for five years, finally had its pretensions demolished, its citations proved a mass of forgeries, by one tireless and persevering critic who would not accept the "expert" opinion which lauded it to the skies shortly after its publication.

Now that criticism, or rather the lack of it, has been explained, it may be of some interest to learn how the vast number of books which is annually put forth is handled by the editors of literary reviews and the "book pages" of the daily press. Having for nearly ten years been connected with the literary supplement of a New York daily which prides itself on ignoring nothing which is published with the idea of being read, my experiences for observation have been somewhat unusual. The increase in the number of books, and the eagerness of the public to learn about them at the earliest possible moment, have caused the daily press to usurp some of the functions formerly enjoyed by the monthly reviews. The latter do little more than mention the vast majority of publications and confine more and more their critical talents to what they consider conspicuous and distinctive literary productions. Purely literary periodicals have come and gone and left few mourners. The pages of The Bookman, for example, are no longer confined to literary criticism, to essays on bookish topics, to gossip of author and publisher.

There are four distinct publishing periods in the book world. The early spring season, principally confined to those books which could not be made ready to meet the recent holiday season, and to routine books,—books which on account of copyright exigencies have to be published then, books which for prestige the publisher would have bear his imprint, etc. Then comes the late spring season, which is principally confined to novels of the lighter sort and to books for supplementary school reading for the coming autumn. Toward the end of August the first Holiday books usually make their appearance. They increase in number until the end of September, when there is a lull. From the middle of October until the end of November there is a perfect outpour of books. The months of November and December until Christmas Day are the busiest times in the year for the reviewer.

As the books come in they are carefully looked over by the one who is known as the "critic" of the review or paper. He has men and women on his lists whose pens he has tried before—they may be lawyers, college professors, sportsmen, society men, professional novel readers, etc. He considers the author of the book at hand, its seeming importance, etc., and despatches it to a critic. An expert writer of expositions is usually ready to relieve him of volumes upon which for some reason he does not feel justified in requesting expert opinion. Occasionally he makes a mistake by giving out for exposition a really important book. The expert who has been impatiently waiting for the volume points out the error. The work of a well-known novelist is usually sent to a critic who is familiar with former tales by the same author. Juveniles are handed over to one of proved sympathy with stories for boys and girls—one who is conservative yet quick to catch a new element. Books that are essentially for gifts are disposed of in a similar manner—to one who has proved his or her ability to set forth artistic features in books. New editions of classics are turned over to writers who are acquainted with the mechanical make-up of a book, so that the reader may learn whether the new edition of the favorite author is well bound, printed, and appropriately decorated and illustrated. And among the hundreds of "brief notices," expositions, impressions, descriptions, and long and short essays that are handed in, there are invariably some pieces of valuable comment which are well in keeping with the traditions of professional criticism. The critic usually returns the book with his article. These books are ultimately collected and disposed of in various ways. They may be sold at auction to members of the staff, which is an effective way of getting rid of them just before Christmas.

Is there any likelihood of an improvement in literary criticism—any chance of a return by the daily press to what the Reviews of the past gave and those of England and the Continent still give? The standard of criticism is determined by two forces: the quality of books and the taste of would-be purchasers. If every book were really "criticised," the criticisms of many would be utterly incomprehensible to many of their possible readers. The public gets the books it desires; the books receive the attention they deserve. When the standard of reading shall be raised, so that the public shall demand better books, it will be found that more books will receive "serious" attention. As it is at present, the public does not desire much elaborate, fine criticism. It, together with its favorite authors, would be sorely dissatisfied if it got more. It may be added that, in my humble opinion, the function of a critic as an arbiter of literary taste is measurably overestimated. Of course, a man who has won distinction as a judge of books and who signs his articles may have some influence. But it seems to me that the function of the anonymous reviewer should begin and end by explaining the book and let the public be its own critic. It will certainly be in the end. For no critic ever killed a good book; none ever praised an unworthy volume into success and fame.[Back to Contents]