To say that I do a fair number of book reviews is probably something of an understatement. The main reason for this is that I love reading; no matter how many books I've read I just can't get jaded. There's always something new and exciting if you know where to look.
Of course I've my preferences in genre and style — who doesn't? -- but on occasion I like to challenge myself in order to keep intellectually sharp. The brain is like any other muscle, I figure - if you don't exercise it, it will grow flabby. I have to admit that I will always prefer a well-written story over anything else, though, no matter if it's an intellectual challenge or not.
Which explains why J.K. Rowling is equally comfortable on my bookshelves as Thomas Pynchon and James Joyce. But if there is anything or anyone I have a soft spot for when it comes to books it's the smaller independent presses. I suppose you could put it down to a type of romanticism, an affinity for the small press that puts out books because they love it, rather than being in pursuit of the next bestseller of the moment like bigger presses are forced to be.
Of course that's not the truth in either situation, but larger imprints do have much more put on the line than the small ones and have to worry more about the bottom line. The small press with only a limited run of far fewer titles can afford to take a few more risks with the style and content of its releases. Whether it is true or not, in my mind's eye I will always associate small presses with work that is more concerned with artistic merits than commercial viability.
I know that is an awful generalization and that there are probably numerous instances of just the opposite, but how often do you find the work of a contemporary Cuban photographer in one of those luxurious coffee table books the large houses produce periodically? How many would risk publishing translations of detective novels by a former officer in the Algerian army?
Article comments
1 - Gordon Hauptfleisch
Nice, thoughtful article, Richard--thanks.