The rise of ‘bookstagrammers’
A new generation of influential readers
Are “bookstagrammers” and “booktokkers” going to save book culture?
Or is the center of gravity for book publicity — and perhaps by extension, book publishing — moving toward the necessity of celebrity endorsement, a worrying trend?
Is “neither” or “both” an option? Writing last month at The New York Times, Kate Dwyer explores the universe of celebrity book clubs, chats and forums, beyond the biggies like Oprah Winfrey’s and Reese Witherspoon’s. These are book clubs hosted on Instagram and TikTok by primarily internet personalities, such as Kaia Gerber (a model and daughter of Cindy Crawford), and somewhat lower-wattage performers like actress Emma Roberts. Their motive is like any other book club: to spread the word about a book you like.
Once an aging fogey like me gets beyond the novelty of the interface — I am neither a grammer or a tokker — it’s pretty fun. You won’t find me gainsaying other people creating communities in which to share their love of books. If I was famous, I’d be on the bandwagon, big time.
It’s important also to recognize that culture is always evolving. In an essay in Harper’s from 1996 titled “Perchance to Dream: In the Age of Images, a Reason to Write Novels,” Jonathan Franzen threw down a gauntlet of what the novel should be and do. It is a multifaceted and nuanced piece, but Franzen was arguing for a particular cultural position for the novel as a realist enterprise that should seek a “universal” engagement. He also lamented how the rise of electronic media (television) had displaced the novel as central to our understanding and experience of culture, making this goal rather difficult to achieve.
Now, digital technology and the internet has obliterated even television as our shared conduit to culture. Many people don’t even watch television on televisions anymore. Shows, songs, books, movies, tweets and posts are all “content,” which is consumed voraciously, by just about everyone. Jonathan Franzen is still publishing novels, with a new one coming this fall.
It is difficult not to be thrown by these changes and worried that the route to attention for a book is to find favor with an influencer, the same crowd that also tells us how to keep our skin young and dewy.
But in truth, there have always been influencers. Franzen was trying to become one with his essay. (Success!) I just finished reading “Pictures at a Revolution: Five Movies and the Birth of the New Hollywood,” Mark Harris’s fascinating history of the 1967 Academy Award best picture nominees. It includes eye-popping history illuminating the incredible power of a mere handful of reviewers at places like The New York Times, Time and The New Yorker to make or break a film.
The difference today is that influencing is both democratized, and for the most part, predicated on fame. The democratization is, in my mind, an undoubtedly good thing. The fame I am not so sure of. On the one hand, for generations, perches in these places of cultural influence were closed off, particularly to voices outside the dominant groups. Harris’ book is so fascinating, because it charts a spontaneous revolution of the public against this critical status quo, forged by films like “Bonnie and Clyde,” and “The Graduate,” which captured audiences despite major critical pushback.
But fame is not a proxy for anything other than itself. What voices will we not hear, because they are not interested in fame? I am grateful for famous people championing books, but what if we don’t all want to be famous to be heard?
Still, for now, consider me a fan of the new proliferation of book talk, wherever it happens.