In his introduction to Foodists, John Lanchester reminisces about seeing Angela Carter’s 1985 essay in the London Review of Books being passed ‘from hand to hand’, an anecdote that demonstrates the power such pieces in literary magazines can have. Reading Lanchester’s piece took me back to my postgraduate years, sitting at Square 4 of the University of Essex, having just bought the latest London Review, reading and discussing essays with my fellow PhD candidates. I had forgotten how electric those discussions could feel: the half-formed thoughts; the references to the latest theory one of us was working on; the fearless interpretations of concepts we barely grasped but were eager to recite.
I read Foodists in between reading Jad Adams’ Decadent Women, which delves into the lives of the women who wrote for the art and literary journal Yellow Book. And while the two books share very little in terms of themes, combined they led me towards thinking about the value of literary magazines and the whys and hows I fell out of love with them. I wondered when it was that I stopped buying The London Review? When did I make the decision to stop actively keeping up with The New Yorker? Why am I not following any other magazines of this type on social media?
In Decadent Women, Adams recounts Ella D’Arcy’s experiences working at the Yellow Book in the weeks that followed Oscar Wilde’s arrest. While Wilde was not directly involved with the Yellow Book, he represented decadence and was, in the eyes of the public, linked to the magazine. Adding to that, Wilde was reportedly arrested with ‘a yellow book under his arm.’ (p.112) Wilde’s arrest has consequences for the Yellow Book, as they push back the publication date and have to reprint the artwork – a time-consuming task in the 19th century. D’Arcy is described as a force to be reckoned with as she works relentlessly to ensure that publication can go ahead. Out of all the chapters in Decadent Women, this is the one that has moved me the most, so far. I could see D’Arcy typing her letter to John Lane, suggesting she becomes the art editor for the magazine and felt the pain she must have felt when her request was not granted, despite being the obvious choice and the hard work she put in to save the publication.
The Yellow Book gave a platform to women to write in a way that traditional publishing did not allow them to, and I would like to believe that D’Arcy’s investment in it was, at least partially, for that reason. And while the big literary magazines are as elitist and as impossible for ‘young’ writers to be published in as all the big book publishers, they do allow for a certain freedom that does not come from writing a novel, a poetry or essay collection, or a collection of short stories. This is what Foodists reminded me.
While every essay in this collection revolves around food, they are extremely different. They span from the 1980s to the late 2010s, and while some of them are concerned with food-related issues of their time, others are timeless in their approach to how we understand and interact with food. Emma Rothschild explores the relationship between food and class, Margaret Visser questions how sustainable our fish consumption is. But by far my favourite one was “Eating Alone” by Francis Wyndham, in which he recounts an incident that took place at the Indian restaurant he used to dine alone. I will not spoil it for you here (it’s such an enjoyable read) but the moment I finished it, I wanted to share it with someone. I felt that urge to read it out loud and discuss what it says about community, human interactions, and connection. It gave me that electric feeling that Lanchester describes in the introduction. I guess there is still a place in my life for the literary magazine.
About two years ago, I decided to create a public Instagram account in order to share the books I was reading with the abstract world of the internet. This was a result of two things: my need to talk about books and the fact that my profession made it necessary to keep my personal profiles private. For the first two years I posted on and off without putting any effort into it (I think I was following less than twenty people).
It was during the UK lockdown, with more time to read and the need for new hobbies, that I decided to dedicate time to it. Having now reached just over 1000 followers, these are the five things I learnt.
1.Aesthetics count
https://www.instagram.com/p/CBlKG1xpGZd/
This is not a rant on how one needs to edit or use props in order to gain followers. This is in defence of the aesthetic.
Aesthetics are about movements and philosophy. They represent a way of thinking and reflect emotions towards a topic or views of an individual or a group on beauty and ugliness. They are a reflection on what people might find worthy of attention, attractive and in a sense represent how we want the world around us to be. A quick scroll through my feed will tell you that I am an autumnal person and that I tend to navigate towards warmer tones. You will also be able to pick out that I mostly read ‘literary fiction’ (excuse that quotation marks but I have a genuine dislike towards such terms) and that I have a strong appreciation for the classics and poetry.
Following a variety of accounts has really influenced my understanding of books and how they are marketed. And that is not a bad thing. Books are not just the words on the page. A very quick google search tells me that about a hundred people are directly or indirectly involved in the production of a book. A lot of those people would have studied design or marketing and are using that knowledge in order to reach the biggest possible audience for each book. When we build these aesthetics what we are also doing is, in a sense, showing our appreciation to the people involved in producing books.
Additionally, depending on the aesthetic, people are able to showcase books in a different light. My appreciation for second hand books has grown significantly in the last couple of months and instead of purchasing new copies of old favourites I have opted for second hand versions.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CCGF8aXAb7W/
2. Opinions Matter
In the beginning I didn’t really bother with my captions. I wondered why people where not following me, why no one was commenting and why my posts had very little traffic. As I became more confident, my captions became longer. I started giving my opinion on books I read, as well as posting about my favourite authors or books that I thought more people should be talking about.
This was not a revelation that came out of nowhere. I owe it to the beautiful and insightful accounts that I am following. @literaturelymylife was one of the first to inspire me when we had a lovely conversation in his comments about Steinbeck.
https://www.instagram.com/p/B-95u5OgXTk/
I also discovered @bookishinct whose insightful captions on classical literature gave me the urge to post my thoughts on ancient texts. We had some lovely conversations about studying Ancient Greek and translations. Finding her account helped me realise that there wasn’t one thing that bookstagram was about, that you didn’t have to post about specific genres or specific books and that posting about things you are passionate about is more important than posting what you think others want to see.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CAyKkkngogK/
3. Keep an open mind
I have very specific reading habits and in the beginning I only reached out for accounts who shared similar interests to me. While it was great to scroll through my feed and see books I loved, it quickly became apparent to me that this was going against my initial reason for having this account.
You see, in real life I have very few bookish friends so I don’t often receive recommendations and I end up always reading similar things. I wanted bookstagram to give me a new perspective. The algorithm though was working against me. Most, if not all, of the accounts that were recommended to me where very similar. For that reasons I decided to actively search for accounts that would help me diversify my reading as well as my world view.
These are just some examples:
@sssiya.reads posting about books I would never have come across otherwise, and helping me learn more about issues that will not only improve my understanding of the world I live in but will also make me a better teacher.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CBESPfHAWcH/
@jlit_junction sharing the love of Japanese literature and helping me expand my reading.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CArYMWrgsXs/
@Athena.reads Even though there is over a decade between us, it was lovely to connect with someone who shares my love for classical texts and mythology. It’ also fascinating to follow her reading journey and remind myself of the excitement of reading and studying these texts as a young adult.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CC64nNZgaEh/
@katsanou_christina posting from Greece and helping me keep up to date with translations and publications in Greek. It’s a great way for me to keep in touch with books in my native language.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CA9jPdiJ0lG/
4. Expect the love you give
My experience on instagram was enhanced when I started connecting with other people. Bookstagram is a great community but you will only see that when you start showing interest as well.
I make an effort to do the following:
find a new account to follow that wouldn’t normally show on my feed
like posts from new/smaller accounts
reply to at least 5-6 stories daily
find new/smaller hashtags to follow so that I can support new posts
comment on posts from accounts I follow
reply to all the comments on my posts
engage with other accounts through DMs
This is by no means a how-to list but instead some suggestions on things you could do that are thoughtful and show people that you care for their posts. While some care about numbers and followers and want to achieve quick growth, I found that really connecting with others and having genuine conversations about books is so much more fulfilling for me. To go back to my first point, I create this profile in order to find like-minded people, and while big numbers do offer some gratification, being able to discuss books is a personal priority.
I also found that when I liked and commented on people’s posts, or when I shared something from their profile that I thought was great, that was returned to me organically. Yes, there are tags and chains and other ways to get traction on your profile but when you truly engage with the community and show your support to others, others will show you love and support as well.
5. Everyone is different.
I don’t read fast. I also don’t review every book I read. I don’t like sharing too many personal details. I don’t show my face in my stories.
Others read five books a week and review every single one of them.
Some like to make very personal stories, giving us an insight to their life.
There are accounts that don’t only post about books. @thomasliam300 is one of my personal favourites. Especially his baking stories.
There are people who only read non-fiction.
And people who start books and never finish them.
Some spent fortunes on buying books and other only use their local library.
There are feeds where you only get the cover of a book in front of a white wall and feeds like @nadias_books.n.beers who accompanies each book with a beer.
Some only read award winning books. Others only read poetry.
Audiobooks are books.
Children books are books.
Once you understand that everyone reads differently and talks about books differently, you will enjoy being part of this community.
There’s the story, then there’s the real story, then there’s the story of how the story came to be told. Then there’s what you leave out of the story. Which is part of the story Margaret Atwood – MaddAddam
Creativity is defined as the ability to create something using one’s imagination or one’s original idea and is, as a concept, fairly new. The Ancient Greeks had no words or terms corresponding to the concept of creativity but rather viewed and understood art as a discovery. The notion of an original idea created out of nothingness can be traced back to the Biblical story of creation – only God could imagine a world out of nothing and he only could create such a world. Genesis begins with ‘ἐν ἀρχῇ ἐποίησεν ὁ θεὸς’. The word ‘ἐποίησεν’ comes from ‘poiein’ which means to make and which was for the Ancient Greeks only applied to poets (poietes) who made poetry. God is thus a poet who constructs a world full of symmetries and patterns.
Can we then imagine a world with a definite beginning? Julian in Jen Campbell’s the Beginning of the World in the Middle of the Night says that ‘a beginning denotes a period in time, and, for you to pinpoint it, time must exist, and if time exists then something exists.’ There is this character, in a bedroom that might or might not exist, in a time that might or might not exist, saying that nothing is unthinkable. From the moment you think about nothing , something comes into creation.
Storytelling works in layers. A story starts in the writer’s head and it develops as it is written down. The distinction between the story and the real story is usually blurry, especially when considering point of view and voice. When a story is told in the first person it is likely that it will be biased; it will be the version of the story as seen from the perspective of a specific character. It reflects not only the character’s feelings but also his or her judgement on other characters. This is very prominent in Atwood’s MaddAddam where the main characters Jimmy, Toby, Zeb and later Blackbeard become active storytellers.
