The publishing business …

… Mockingbird, Inc. | The New Republic. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

Huckleberry Finn isn’t feel-good because it demands action of us: It petitions us for sacrifice, and the typical American would rather not consider that. Mockingbird, meanwhile, doesn’t ask us for anything so lofty: Just sit back and be charmed by that little girl, be pleased by the rectitude of her father. Loving and lauding Mockingbird assuages our self-blame, and in doing so, absolves us of responsibility. It feels downright correct to cherish this novel—it feels, come to think of it, rather like an honest day’s work. It performs its magic first by suctioning itself to your own nostalgia and then by satisfying your limp conscience: As long as there are Atticuses in the world, all will be well, and you yourself can remain recumbent. We Americans prefer our morality reductive, and so the easily sloganized ethics of Mockingbird were and remain palatable for millions.

I presume that Mr. Geraldi knows all about how typical Americans feel precisely because he does not consider himself typical.