Book reviewers

 Sunday, December 20th., Cadogan Square, London.

Amongst other things, I am a reviewer of books. I have been reviewing books professionally for the last 30 years, and was an informal reviewer prior to that. The Christmas season is good for book reviewers as fewer books are published, and we deserve a rest.

In my humble opinion reviewers deserve more consideration as well. Their task is terrible. I doubt whether it is not better to be a coal miner than a popular reviewer. The miner's hours are shorter and the work is less deleterious to the mind; and since the body depends on the mind, the mind should count for more than the body; and I wish that the majority of persons could grasp this fact; and they don't. A popular reviewer has little opportunity , or none, to reinvigorate his mind, and to revive and establish his standards by reading masterpieces. The larger part of his day is spent in boredom and in the excruciating and vain effort to be fair. He needs a rest from mediocrity.

Reviewers should not be despised and reviled. The publisher is the midwife of new literature, not the reviewer. He may unwittingly mislead you; he may be cursed with (what seems to you to be) bad taste. he may be cranky, or bitter, or over-kind. But where would you be without him? For at worst he does give you some notion of what a new book is about. He does help you to form a preliminary opinion of your own. For a book buyer, to be without reviewers would be like being a traveller without maps. 

There are two classes of men in society whom I daily venerate: bus-drivers, and book-reviewers. Their tact, their self-possession and good judgement in the bright face of danger, the courageous, indomitable fight against the deadly influences of endless monotony on the soul, inspire me with admiration. Did I say that I am, amongst other things, a reviewer of books?