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

"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 the act of lowering the quality of reading. Even if you just flip through the pages, you can claim to have read it through that series of movements. Even if it is not accompanied by an understanding of the content.

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

"For example, suppose a person who is well-versed in mystery novels in general from the era when Ellery Queen and Agatha Christie lived, but does not read many mysteries by recent authors—especially having almost never read Japanese authors—reviews a 'book they happened to read' from among Keigo Higashino's many works. It is interesting in the sense of 'how the work appeared to such a person,' but I would have to say it lacks accuracy as a book review."

I think the "accidental reviews" Hirose speaks of also have a reason for existing. However, I almost entirely agree. When I am asked about what makes a good book review, I always answer with 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 this second point. Would a reader need the judgment of someone who has rarely picked up that type of book? The answer is no.

The most important thing for a book critic is likely 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. "Shill reviews" that praise a book one doesn't think is good at all 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 accumulating the experience of reading diligently. This means that quantity is important. If you are a book critic, read as much as you can.

While saying that, I must add further 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 that 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 intense 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), which 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 tattered as a result, Hideo Obuchi said to me:

"Know the poverty of a life where one has no choice but to read books hurriedly on the 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 types of reading where one must face the work deliberately. That is why even now, I basically cannot read books much while I am out. Fundamentally, I read while sitting at my desk.

To put it abstractly, I think it is the sincerity of one's attitude toward the book. I reached that conclusion after going in circles. That is something I also practice as a book critic. I do not read with a conclusion already decided. My area of expertise within popular literature is the mystery. Within that, there is the designation "Honkaku (Orthodox) Mystery." It is a subgenre referring to works where the logic of solving the mystery is the primary interest, 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 are only valid within a 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 captive to the theme. Depending on the work, cutting-edge social issues may be addressed. That may be important to the author. They may find significance in writing about it. However, the fact that the theme is addressed and its value as a novel are separate 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 the reader, I should operate only 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 have 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.