Not to seem ungrateful or anything, but when Jonathan Nicholas (Oregonian, November 1, 1992) and others announced or mentioned the release of our first issue, we shuddered a little when they almost invariably used the term "literary review" to describe this magazine. As those of you who saw the first issue-or perused the rest of this one before bothering with this column-know by now, we're strictly concerned with book reviews. Okay, not strictly, but for the most part, what you're going to find in Plant's Review of Books is covered in the magazine's name. That is, after all what the title of a publication is supposed to reflect. If we just called it Plant's you might have thought it was some sort of poorly-punctuated gardening journal. If it was Plant's Review it could well have been mistaken for a literary review until the cover was opened but it could just as easily posed as a review of movies, art, theater, or-yes-even "The Poorly-Punctuated Guide to Botanical Options." The name, however, says it all. There is no shame in our humble categorization as a "book review," and while we may sometimes stray a bit beyond the boundaries of what is traditionally expected of a review (as with the fine photographs by A.J. Zelada in this issue), we feel that term best describes what we are doing with our dedication to provide readers a suite of interesting, provocative, and entertaining essays about books and reading every three months. Let us know how well we're doing our job. See you again in May.
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