Clique Me Deadly

Over at Lee Goldberg’s blog there’s a thoughtful series of posts (though they have been swallowed up by Yet Another Fanfic Debate) that get into what’s a somewhat uncomfortable side effect of blogger love: blogger cliquishness.

This was Lee’s take:

Call this the

flipside of crime fiction blogging. Many of the folks I talked to told

me they were stunned by the negative backlash when I mentioned that, as

much as I like and admire Ken Bruen, I wasn’t as wowed by THE GUARDS as

some folks were.  So many authors I spoke to said the downside of crime

fiction blogging, and the growing influence of those bloggers, is that

once they discover an author, they deify him or her. Loyalty to the

author and his work becomes a litmus test of crime fiction hipness

among the bloggers and their readers. And because most of the bloggers

are fans, hanging out with the chosen authors at conventions and

signings  is also a status-thing.  Authors and fans are afraid to even

lightly criticize a novel by a writer who has been “discovered” or

championed by the bloggers  for fear of being ostracized from the

in-group. What stunned me was that these views  about the downside of

blogging were expressed by several authors who are on among the current

darlings of the blogging community. The fact that these authors are so

well-aware (and self-aware) of the downside surprised me. I figured

they’d be so absorbed in all the adulation they wouldn’t see any

pitfalls.

PK the Bookeemonster followed up with this:

But if blogs went away, I would continue to enjoy books without the

“insider knowledge.” And that is a part of it, the insiders versus the

outsiders, and as you stated, there is another dark side to blogging

which is the power the more popular ones have similar to the cliques in

high school all over again: if you’re not in, you’re out. Ken Bruen is

an excellent example. I’ve tried his books and they don’t click with

me; that’s just me and my taste but they’re equally valid as those who

do like his stuff. There is a strong undercurrent in the mystery world

promoting the “coolness” of noir, dark novels which is great but it

shouldn’t come at the expense of any other subgenre. The phenomenon of

blogging is bringing mystery lovers together but also separating us

into niches of us and them.

And Ed Gorman has just posted a more in-context viewpoint:

A number of mystery sites are already settling into cliques.. But I

don’t find this surprising. Or disturbing. I see blogs as essentially a

kind of fandom and fannish activities always thrive on snobbery and

exclusions of various kinds. Now some of this snobbery can be fun if

it’s done with some wit and grace; and some of it can be merely

irritating (or infuriating after a few beers). I survived five years in

science fiction fandom back in the late Fifties and early Sixties. As I

recall, what used to irritate the professional writers involved was

that they had to suffer the opinions of people who’d never sold any

fiction themselves. They only complained about this when they got

savaged—and they frequently DID get savaged, which was a great grand

lark for those of us who’d never known the pain of getting trashed in

print. The favorite word of such savagers was “hack.” I remember some

brain-dead show off from Ohio called Theodore Sturgeon a hack (my God,

Sturgeon!) and he was attacked for months after his stupid opinion was

dispersed on mimeograph paper. And you would run into fans/bloggers who

would say that they were so devoted to such-and-such-a writer THAT THEY

WOULDN’T READ ANYBODY ELSE (their caps not mine). Of course there were

fans who were in the process of becoming professional writers on the

side while still writing for fanzines. Marion Zimmer Bradley, Roger

Ebert, Greg Benford, Joe Hensley, Juanita Coulson, Jack Chalker, Gene

DeWeese, Ted White and many others were all friends and acquaintances

writing for the same fanzines I did. This isn’t to say that there

wasn’t worthy criticism in fanzines. Some of the fan reviewers were

excellent, so good in fact that I always turned to their reviews before

I read anything else. They could really get you excited about a book.

I think this discussion has to be had, because the strongest argument in favor of blogs in general is their transparency — that those who openly state opinions and have open comments (but even if they do not) can receive almost instantaneous feedback , both positive and negative, and that a conversation ensues.

But it is also true that like-minded souls are more likely to bond and

make silly jokes and appear exclusionary…even if, in truth, they are

not. I mean, the persona I have on my own space and in comments boxes

in more topic-oriented blogs is quite a bit different from the more

capricious, strange-humored comments I make over at the most of the

Cabana Boy blogs. Why? Because sometimes it’s fun to just talk about

random crap. And make bizarre jokes. And not worry if more than 10

people are actually reading what you’re saying over there.

The Clique argument has been mentioned when the Litblog Co-Op got started as well –why were these

litbloggers included, but others not? And on the surface, it was a fair

question, but if you dug deeper, the truth emerges: which is that yes,

it’s a closed group to start, but the LBC is all about

transparency and open discussion. At least, that is what each member

hopes it will be, even if it may not always succeed at every point.

Bottom line: cliqueishness is as cliquishness does. But most of the

so-called ones I’m in (and I’m sorry, but as somebody who was somewhat

outcast in grade school and high school, I find the concept very

funny), whether to talk books or common interests or whatever, are

really open to everyone.

I don’t want to be a snob about books. Why should I be a snob about people?

So with that, I’m giving Gorman the last word:

As I’ve always said, mystery people are generally the smartest, most

cordial, most helpful and most interesting of all genre folk. And that,

after editing Mystery Scene for eighteen years, I can say with some

authority.