There’s no willing conspiracy here as far as I’m concerned. The people I’ve written for are, without fail, inspired, smart, engaged advocates of literary culture. Besides, I tend to select the majority of books that I review, and these days I tend to get assigned what I pitch. “It’s not you,” I now say to my editors and to the world, “it’s me.” But when it comes down to it, I’m obviously, however minor, part of a problem, and I’m not exactly sure what to do with this humiliating revelation.