[Feature: Encountering Books] Matsukoi Sugie: How Many Books Should a Book Critic Read?

2023/08/08

"You must read a lot of books, don't you?"

To be honest, I am not fond of being asked that. This is because boasting about quantity sounds synonymous with degrading the quality of reading. One can claim to have "read" a book through a series of actions as simple as flipping through the pages, even if no understanding of the content follows.

I should quickly add, however, that reading in quantity is also important for a book critic. Kazuo Hirose writes as follows in "Why Rakugo Criticism is Useless" (Kobunsha Shinsho):

"Suppose, for example, a person who is well-versed in mystery novels from the era of Ellery Queen and Agatha Christie, but rarely reads mysteries by recent authors—especially Japanese authors—happens to review 'one book they happened to read' out of Keigo Higashino's many works. While it is interesting in the sense of 'how the work appeared to such a person,' one would have to say it lacks the accuracy required for a book review."

I believe there is a raison d'être for what Hirose calls "accidental reviews." However, I almost entirely agree with him. When I am asked about what makes a good book review, I always cite Saiichi Maruya's definition, which states that the order of importance is "introduction of content," "judgment of whether it is worth reading," and "the charm of the prose" ("Reading Books in London," Magazine House). "Accidental reviews" fail at the second point. Would a reader need the judgment of someone who has rarely picked up a book of that kind? The answer is no.

The most important thing for a book critic is to be trusted by the readers. Obtaining the seal of approval that says, "If this person recommends it, it's worth reading," is the only license a book critic has. "Puff piece" reviews that praise a book one doesn't like in the slightest for a small amount of money are out of the question because they betray this sense of trust. There is no way to win trust other than by steadily accumulating the experience of reading. This means that quantity is important. If you are a book critic, read as much as you can.

While saying this, I must add that I still have a resistance to boasting about quantity. This is because I cannot forget a single remark thrust upon me by the late Hideo Obuchi, who was my academic advisor at the Keio University Faculty of Letters.

I believe it was during my third year. I borrowed a book from Obuchi's bookshelf that was too expensive for a student to buy, and I read it with great focus out of a desire to return it quickly. It was Yoshihiko Amino's "Non-Agricultural People and the Emperor in Medieval Japan" (Iwanami Shoten), a book I will never forget. I didn't let go of it even while traveling by train, and I read it at what was, for me, a staggering speed. When I returned the Amino book, which had become quite worn as a result, Hideo Obuchi said to me:

"Recognize the poverty of a life where one has no choice but to read books hurriedly on a train."

At the time, I thought, "It can't be helped, I didn't have time," but now I understand his true meaning well. It is not enough just to read. There are some types of reading where you must face the book deliberately. That is why, even now, I basically cannot read much while I am out. I primarily read while sitting at my desk.

To put it abstractly, I think it is about the sincerity of one's attitude toward a book. I reached that conclusion after going in circles. It is something I also practice as a book critic. I do not read with a predetermined conclusion. My area of expertise is mystery within popular literature. Within that, there is the term "Honkaku (Orthodox) Mystery." This is a subgenre referring to works where the primary interest is the logic of solving the puzzle, but I do not use this term "Honkaku." If there is an "orthodox," then there must be things that are not, and I feel like I am labeling the work before I even read it. Not limited to this, I try to exclude concepts that only pass within a specific genre as much as possible, and approach works from a perspective as close to general literature as possible.

I read based on content and do not judge based on peripheral information. For example, I do not interpret a work by saying, "The author wrote this because they are this kind of person." That is a conclusion guided by prejudice. I am not bound by the theme. Depending on the work, cutting-edge social issues may be addressed. That may be important to the author. They may find meaning in writing about it. However, the fact that a theme is addressed and its value as a novel are two different things. I judge solely on how it stands as a novel and do not evaluate the work based on other elements. That is the utmost sincerity I am capable of.

Until a certain point, I believed and practiced that in order to maintain sincerity toward readers, I should only operate within the mystery genre. Recently, I changed my mind, wondering if I could properly evaluate a genre without knowing about adjacent fields, and I suddenly expanded the scope of the books I read. Thanks to that, I now find myself having to read a considerable number of books.

But please, do not ask me, "You read a lot, don't you?" I don't read that many—only as many as I can.