From The Archive: Books and Little Boxes

From The Archive is a special Friday feature. It features posts from my earlier (now-deleted) blog: Stuff & Nonsense and a few items from previous versions of A Tangled Rope that I feel deserve reprinting here, mainly as a way of archiving them. The dates are only approximate, I’m afraid, and there is a possibility that some links may no longer work (although, I will try to remember to test the links before republishing the piece).

Books and Little Boxes - 05/05/05

The Guardian reports on yet another attempt to divide readers up into smaller and smaller marketing sub-categories. This time it is women over 45.

Now, I'm over 45, but I am not a woman. However, I am married to someone who is both, and I know how she hates being patronised like this.

I don't know if there has been any research into what effect this endless sub-sub-sub classification of things has on readers and… for want of a better all-encompassing description - consumers of cultural products. In one sense, I don't really care if there has, because I know it annoys the hell out of me and everyone else I speak to about it. I detest this atomisation of everything where we get, as Ricky Gervais once said, entire TV channels seemingly devoted to alternating programmes about sharks and the Nazis. I don't want to be shepherded into a little box that fits my demographic profile by age, sex, interests, voting preference, favourite food, and so on seemingly right down to the number of hairs on my left buttock.

Once more, we are in the Orwellian Newspeak world where the Illusion of Choice becomes a narrowing of options, rather than a widening out of possibilities.

Then there is this, 'They want exciting, inspiration heroines they can relate to'. (I presume it means inspirational), but what is this? I have noticed this increasing trend towards seeing books, novels especially as a form of instrumentalism - almost a guide for living the good life, a sort of self-help book, in a way. Are there people who read books in that simple one-dimensional kind of way, using novels as a form of instruction manual for living? I know I don't and I can't think of anyone else I know who does.

I am so weary too of that vacuous psychobabble, inspirational, relate to, empathize and all that. This words and phrases have now become meaningless (if they ever did have any real meaning beyond the vague hand-waving psychological comfort-blankets they've now become) tired clichés.

I am reassured by the generally sceptical tone of the article though, and the number of people interviewed (one including a list of a number of women writers of a certain age who I like, read and respect) who are dismissive of the whole concept.

So maybe there is some hope for us all, after all.