He is the man who takes
irony seriously, misses the symbolism when there is any, and
invariably guesses wrong as to the sources of the characters and
the plot.
There are not many really stupid reviewers, for the most indolent
editor cleans house occasionally, and the stupid are the first to
go out the back door. But merely dull reviewers are as plentiful
as fountain pens. The dull reviewer, like Chaucer's drunken man,
knows where he wants to go but doesn't know how to get there. He
(or she) has three favorite paths that lead nowhere, all equally
devious.
The first is by interminable narrative. "When Hilda was blown into
the arms of Harold Garth at the windy corner of the Woolworth
building, neither guessed at what was to follow. Beginning with
this amusing situation, the author of 'The Yellow Moon' develops a
very interesting plot. Garth was the nephew of Miles Harrison,
Mayor of New York. After graduating from Williams, etc., etc.,
etc." This is what he calls summarizing the plot.
Unfortunately, the art of summary is seldom mastered, and a bad
summary is the dullest thing in the world. Yet even a bad summary
of a novel or a book of essays is hard to do; so that when the
dull reviewer has finished, his sweaty brow and numbed fingers
persuade him that he has written a review.
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