Reviewed by: Railway Reading and Late-Victorian Literary Series by Paul Raphael Rooney Sara Hackenberg (bio) Railway Reading and Late-Victorian Literary Series, by Paul Raphael Rooney; pp. vii + 179. London and New York: Routledge, 2018, £85.00, $140.00. Today’s trains, buses, and airplanes contain countless people who, absorbed in their smartphones, busily ward off “alogotransiphobia,” a late-twentieth century neologism for the fear of being without reading material while in transit that Paul Raphael Rooney references in his innovative study Railway Reading and Late-Victorian Literary Series (11). Rooney argues in Railway Reading that alogotransiphobia has its roots in Victorian reading needs and practices. He examines the Victorians’ enormous appetite for entertaining reading material as they moved through space by focusing on three late-century book series that were marketed to and popular with railway travelers: Chatto & Windus’s “Cheap Editions of Popular Novels” (1877–99), Routledge’s “Detective Books” (1887–88), and “Arrowsmith’s Bristol Library” (1884–1901). [End Page 146] Rooney’s study addresses a host of fascinating questions. How did late-Victorian railway reading differ from other kinds of reading? What kinds of reading matter did Victorians who felt alogotransiphobia select, and why? What did the reading of inexpensive and entertaining material while in transit do, or produce, culturally? How centrally might specific book series and individual booksellers have shaped readers’ selections? How might books popular with railway travelers have impacted literature and literary production more broadly? That these questions remain largely open by the end of Rooney’s book is a testament both to Rooney’s ambition and to the complexity of his material. Indeed, Railway Reading provides such an enticing glimpse into late-Victorian book series aimed at railway travelers that I hope it is the beginning of a larger project analyzing the importance of railway reading to nineteenth-century readers and writers. While Rooney focuses on late-century series, his tantalizing references to mid-century material, particularly Simms & M’Intyre’s yellowback publications and the “prodigious Routledge’s Railway Library,” point to additional archives that could further illuminate the history and significances of Victorian alogotransiphobia (69). This reader would also welcome elaboration on Rooney’s intriguing observations about the particular appeal of reprinted serialized novels to readers in transit. Additionally, Rooney’s interest in transatlantic crossings (as evidenced in the Routledge detective books series he examines, which consisted entirely of reprinted American and French titles) raises questions about the intersections of British, American, and continental European railway reading. Rooney opens his study with a consideration of “Victorian Readers and Reading Post-1870,” which offers a concise summation of the largely disparaging critical and literary views of the reading matter of the lower middleclass that arose after the Forster Act of 1870 expanded access to elementary education. Noting that he wants specifically to “focus on reading for pleasure,” Rooney poses another important question (27): “if [according to these critics and representations] readers were supposedly not engaging with the reading matter that would be most beneficial, what was the particular allure of the material that did succeed in attracting their time, investment, and attentions?” (32). Rooney offers a few suggestive but tentative answers to this question, noting that such reading for pleasure could sometimes “assist . . . social climbing or self-betterment”; that it provided a way to “escape the colourlessness of the everyday”; and—most intriguingly— that it could somehow furnish “a worldview or narrative lens that will aid in deciphering . . . everyday experiences” (38). Coming on the heels of such suggestions, the chapter’s conclusion that “reading obviously could serve as a pleasurable leisure time activity, but the function of books arguably ran deeper than offering a purely recreational pursuit” feels a little disappointingly underdeveloped (44). The subsequent four chapters all trace systems that made such potentially deep but also distinctly pleasurable reading available, from the choices of W. H. Smith booksellers to curated book series. Chapter 2 observes that some of Smith’s booksellers considered their offerings for travelers “food for the mind,” as one expressed it (a phrase Rooney uses in his chapter’s title). Chapter 3 traces the ways in which the “diversity” offered by the Chatto & Windus “Cheap Editions of...