Alan Levinovitz has a great piece on blurbs, those short endorsements found on the front and back covers of books. Coined in 1906 by children’s book author and civil disobedient Gelett Burgess, blurbs have a fascinating history:
In 1936 George Orwell described them as “disgusting tripe,” quoting a particularly odious example from the Sunday Times: “If you can read this book and not shriek with delight, your soul is dead.” He admitted the impossibility of banning reviews, and proposed instead the adoption of a system for grading novels according to classes, “perhaps quite a rigid one,” to assist hapless readers in choosing among countless life-changing masterpieces. More recently Camille Paglia called for an end to the “corrupt practice of advance blurbs,” plagued by “shameless cronyism and grotesque hyperbole.” Even Stephen King, a staunch supporter of blurbs, winces at their “hyperbolic ecstasies” and calls for sincerity on the part of blurbers.
The excesses and scandals of contemporary blurbing, book and otherwise, are well-documented. William F. Buckley relates how publishers provided him with sample blurb templates: “(1) I was stunned by the power of [ ]. This book will change your life. Or, (2) [ ] expresses an emotional depth that moves me beyond anything I have experienced in a book.” Overwrought praise for David Grossman’s To the End of the Landinspired The Guardian to hold a satirical Dan Brown blurbing competition.
Have you ever been swayed to purchase a book based on a blurb as opposed to a description/summary of the book? Bill Morris performed an informal survey of his friends/colleagues last year, and the results of his blurbing query are here.