A New Era of Reading and Writing
Lead image by AntonioGuillem / iStock
By Dan Rubinstein
Some media and technology critics repeat a familiar decline narrative: digital communication platforms are undercutting our ability to concentrate, propagating brain rot and dooming us to lead unexamined lives. “The End of Reading is Here,” proclaimed the headline of a recent article in The Atlantic, which pondered what will happen to the “astonishing wealth of information and wisdom [that] has been bequeathed to us.”
While there is some truth to this trajectory, the reality is a lot more nuanced and complex, argues Sarah Brouillette, an English professor at ÐÓ°ÉÔ´´ University and the author of , which will be released this fall.
Rather than denounce the rise of self-publishing and romance writing, or lament the dumbing down of audiobooks, Brouillette deconstructs the causes and consequences of these changes and situates them within a broader political, economic and social context.
“My interest has always been in understanding in a deeper way why some things appeal to us,” says Brouillette, who considers herself a cultural sociologist.
“I like looking at what’s happening behind the scenes of the culture we consume every day. Why do some forms of reading become popular, for example, and not others?
“There has always been mass culture,” she continues. “There have always been types of expression that the elites don’t respect. What changes is what counts as ‘real’ reading and what is considered mere ‘slop.'”
Curating Identity
Brouillette fell into this intellectual rabbit hole in an organic way. An earlier research project explored why writers are increasingly struggling to make a living. She was also thinking about how literature is finding new outlets, from smartphone writing to Instagram poetry.
Conversations with her ÐÓ°ÉÔ´´ students cemented this direction. They introduced her to Wattpad, a website for publishing and reading original fiction. Although a handful of stories from the platform have become bestselling books and television series, the vast majority embody the gig economy: low-paid labour that incentivises prolific output if you want to pay your bills and maybe someday strike it rich.
“Instead of a path to a career, or the pursuit of art for art’s sake, or a contribution to an esteemed tradition,” Brouillette writes in Content Machines, “a lot of writing now is a means to explore and curate one’s identity and to have it affirmed within a supportive community. This community is often on the internet.”
Alongside this “gigification,” Brouillette saw how the publishing sector is also becoming more female. Women now comprise nearly 80 per cent of the industry in the United States, a tremendous change from the 1970s.
This shift is a pyrrhic victory, however, occurring alongside the declining influence and economic stability of publishing. “The greatest period of cultural relevancy for literature,” says Brouillette, “was when white men ran the show.”
Yet don’t overlook the significance of the new niches that are emerging. Romance writing, which is typically seen as a realm for women, is often a forthright response to the stresses of the modern world.
“Most of these books are mediating unease and unhappiness,” says Brouillette.
“They’re ways to examine how little control you have over your life and how limited your romantic options are. They’re fantasies of a better kind of love and a better life, one where you have more agency.”
Amateur Bibliotherapy
The social and economic conditions that are amplifying this genre are also contributing to the popularity of digital publishing platforms.
“Economic turmoil and government austerity have exacerbated social, psychological and emotional needs, while also producing the conditions in which those needs are increasingly unlikely to be met in any affordable or sustained way,” Brouillette writes. “For many people, reading and writing step in as a real means of managing anxiety, isolation, and unease, and platforms position themselves as the conduits to having these needs met.
“They harness narrative culture as a conduit to necessary escape and self-care, while suggesting that sharing one’s writing and one’s reading experiences online is a way to be together and be validated.”
To Brouillette, the real concern is that these platforms attempt to pay as little as possible for cultural production while spreading the belief that everybody has a story to share.
“Everybody is not a writer,” she says, “but everybody can generate text that can be monetized by platforms.”
Brouillette calls much of today’s writing “amateur bibliotherapy” — an accessible and affordable form of literature in which people “are drawn to relatable characters who can model persistence in life despite suffering.”
She is not interested in judging if particular kinds of reading are good or bad. Her focus is on the underlying forces that shape our cultural habits and our world.
