Dilevko and Magowan offer generic and impractical alternatives to appeal factor analysis. Referring vaguely to “historical resonance” and the “rich and complex totality” of great books, they would offer nothing to readers but the admonition that they should wait and take the classics department’s word on what is great literature. Their dismissal of appeal factor analysis as nothing more than an efficiency measure begs the question of how they would evaluate works of fiction. Apparently great works of literature emerge from writers as did Athena from the forehead of Zeus. Dilevko and Magowan complain about the deskilling of librarianship, but they would leave librarians with little to do but pass out a short list of great books to bewildered patrons.
Appeal factor analysis bears a close relation to the kind of thinking engaged in by students and critics of literature. It is the practical application of this kind of thinking to the experiences, needs, and desires of the individual reader. Limitations in the tools that advisors use come not from overuse of this kind of analysis, but from incompleteness in its application. When subject and character-type headings in NoveList produce matches that are inaccurate, it is because other appeal factors, such as language, tone, and pacing, have not been addressed. When a list of books with a common setting produces a wildly varied grouping, it is the task of the skilled RA professional to augment that list with further analysis and interpretation of its contents.
Conclusion
In the end, the lack of reading research in Dilevko and Magowan’s book is telling. The authors don’t have a coherent story about how the great books reading they espouse will create the ends they desire. They quote the research of Catherine Sheldrick Ross, but don’t seem to understand its significance. Ross identifies many needs served by many kinds of books, including finding “models for identity,” “new perspectives and enlargement of possibilities,” “confirmation of self-worth,” “connection with others and awareness of not being alone,” “courage to make change,” and better “understanding of the world.”6 To this list of reading benefits and goals we can add the social value of reading books that others have read; the education derived from information woven deftly into entertaining fiction and nonfiction narratives; the challenge of reading books that enhance our vocabularies and our ability to decipher complex ideas; and the needed diversion sometimes provided by light reading. Helping readers in all of these pursuits is the philosophical underpinning of exemplary contemporary RA. By finding books that fulfill these varying needs, readers’ advisors create the kind of moral education the authors advocate.
Dilevko and Magowan dismiss Ross’s research summarily as more lightweight, narcissistic, “fewer theologians, more dietitians” thinking, but they are wrong. Gaining empathy for others through encountering diverse characters in fiction is hardly narcissistic. Their account of how literature improves lives relies on pseudo-mystical anecdotes of how great books opened the windows of Andrew Carnegie’s dungeon, allowed young Condoleeza Rice to pull herself up by her bootstraps, or solved the problems of those in nineteenth-century African-American literary societies. Dilevko and Magowan would use “books by Reinhold Niebuhr; Plato’s Gorgias; courses about Ancient Greece, neuroscience, and statistics; and foreign-language courses” as “starting points” and kindly help those from “less-advantaged backgrounds” by giving them the works of “Thomas Hardy; the Greek Classics; and … the novels of Henry James.”7 By somehow imprinting these books into the minds of beginning readers, they would claim to greatly improve society. This account is counterintuitive to any reasoned understanding of educational development.
Even if a retreat behind the walls of the great books was desirable, the authors have no suggestions whatsoever for implementation. One has to wonder how they would suggest people be made to read these great books before they have developed a facility for reading. Any experienced advisor could recount stories of youngsters turned off from reading by a teacher who forced complex works on them before they were ready, or of adults who stay away from books until they realize it is OK to read a book that is fun. They could tell you about how the brightest people they know are devoted to the genre fiction Dilevko and Magowan dismiss. One wonders what a devoted mystery reader such as Jacques Barzun or a science fiction fan such as Isaac Asimov would say if Dilevko told them that genre fiction was ruining their potential.
AMEN! I remember when reviews and news of this book came out. I took a look at Mr. Dilevko’s resume. Not only was his “scholarly” activity in a hodgepodge of topics, he had absolutely no public library experience or knowledge. None – so how can he claim to be any sort of expert? And this is appropriate for someone training future librarians? I pity his students.
As one of Dilevko’s current students and a TPL employee for almost eleven years, I must say that Dilevko is dead on. Unfortunately, most large public systems DO focus on items that are deemed ‘marketable,’ moving away from what really is considered truly great literature… it’s a shame.
I disagree with the first comment. Dilevko may have no public library experience but so what? RA is an area where every party involved can have an opinion about how it should work. Anyone who cares about RA can write a good book about RA. You don’t have to be a drug addict to help drug addicts, and many excellent educators do not have their own children. So what? An avid reader who has been using public libraries for years can write a good book about RA. It won’t be written from a librarian’s perspective, but so what? Dilevko may not be a public librarian, but he’s an expert who has been researching the issue for years, and I am sure he’s a dedicated public library user. His fresh perspective should be welcomed. A plurality of interpretations/diversity of opinions should be welcomed. I may personally disagree with over 50% of what is said in the book, but I can certainly appreciate and admire the quality of craftsmanship and Dilevko’s courage to stand up for what he believes in. Perhaps the book is somewhat intellectually idealistic and excessively nostalgic. But is that necessarily a bad thing? Dilevko did not intend to write an RA manual. It’s a philosophical meditation and a well researched piece. If we stop dreaming or forget the past or have no difference of opinions, our profession will fester and rot. It was Henrik Ibsen who warned that “The worst enemy of truth and freedom in our society is the compact majority.”
I did not know about this book until I read Dr. Ross’s review (LQ, Oct. 2008). What a review! What poise and tact and wisdom. What grace and objectivity. Surely I went off and read the book. This book falls short of a scholarly publication that would criticize a theory or a practical approach and present alternatives. Dilevko breaks the cardinal rule of scholarly argument–he gets personal. He seems less interested in improving RA than in chasing his suspects across the RA field. He does not criticize the system but goes after Bill Crowley and Joyce Saricks and Nancy Pearl. He is out there attacking them. It’s his privte little vendetta. Actually, this book can read like a good thriller where the world of North American RA is the world of conspiracy populated by ill-intentioned librarians and confused readers. The author is surely the main character on a mission to save the world. If he wrote fiction he could produce bestsellers. Sorry, not bestsellers, classics… His cental theme is stunningly obvious: librarians are poorly educated, anti-intellectual and ideologically corrupted. Oh self-righteous Dilevko and his book dripping with disdain, condescension and pomp! He’s particularly cruel in his evaluation of Nancy Pearl’s work. For example, Pearl’s recommendations on the Middle East are rendered superficial, pseudointellectual and deliberately misleading. Of course, he counteracts Pearl’s selection with his own “balanced” “thoughtful” and “intellectual” selection. Is he an expert on the Middle East? I don’t think so. Then why is he so confident that his subjective approach is in any way more comprehensive and appropriate than Pearl’s? I have a hard time imagining an ethical scholar disparage another’s lifeword as he does. It all comes down to the argument culture that Dilevko evidently lacks. Civility, ladies and gentlemen, civility and facts!
I am coming to realize that anonymous blogs are not quite appropriate for established academic journals. Private websites, popular magazines or newspapers-yes; scholarly journals–not really.