The trouble with a reviewer is (minimum) threefold: (A) he can be a hack, and as ignorant as ourselves, (B) he can have strong predilections for a certain kind of writing, or simply be on the take with the publishing industry, and (C) if he is a writer of talent, he will turn his review-writing into an independent art form — Jorge Luis Borges is a case in point — and you may end up by reading reviews rather than the books themselves.
As as reviewer, I always fear A), likely commit B) fairly often, and have aspirations of C) on occasion, at least in terms of writing reviews worth reading, if not quite in the style of a Borges. It is perhaps a trite truism when taken out of context, but I suspect that when considered at length, this quote can apply to more than just the composition of an 800-1500 word essay on a story or group of stories. Yes, composition is the best word for this: of what are we composed and how are our composed elements reflected in the things that we create?
Now I have another book to order in the near future, it seems.