The commodification of the written word.

Part of the reason why Literary Awards remain such a contentious issue within popular culture and academia is their apparent commodification of the written word.  Indeed, consumerism is intricately linked to the production, retail and consumption of literature, and within this system the book-the physical object which contains the words which formulate narratives, ideas and criticism-becomes a consumer item in itself.

This is an important point to remember with regards to Literary Awards for several reasons; one being that we should never forget that the written word, by and large, is seen as a means of income.  Yes it is used to convey a message, but it is also a product that can be bought and sold.  Such buying and selling does not just relate to the author/publisher selling their work to a reader, it also relates to the sale of translation and film rights and economic transactions that involve corporations and industry from all over the world. 

But the main reason why it is imperative that we consider the Literary Award in terms of the economic exchange of the written word for monetary value, is because Literary Awards are seen as a form of income in themselves, both in terms of the monetary award (if one is presented to the winner) and the increase in sales of books expected from a Literary Award shortlist or win.  While there are many studies that have surveyed both the increased and unaffected sales results of Literary Award winners and shortlistees, it is a general rule of thumb that a winning author will see a dramatic hike in sales and fame.

The latter half of this equation, the potential ‘fame-factor’ of prize culture and the subsequent media coverage that ensues, cannot be understated.  If, as noted above, the book as an object catapulted into a series of economic transactions, more often than not so too is the author, who becomes a celebrity, representative of the ‘best’ in their field of cultural production.

When this happens, the author’s name, brand and iconography becomes the selling point. So much so, that at this year’s London Book Fair there will be an industry seminar dedicated to just this titled: Why Every Author Needs to Know Their Author Brand.  As well as being able to splash the title of whatever awards the author or novel has been shortlisted for or won, the author’s name, and in some rare cases the design of their books/typography (see examples below) become representative of that author.  So much so, in some cases, that the author supersedes the very writing that made them famous.

In the past, I’ve dabbled in this area of book/author analysis, and I personally think it is a very fruitful area of research, particularly when it is considered in terms of the book as commodity.  I’ll use three authors by way of example: Stephen King, Ian Rankin and Hilary Mantel.  These authors offer a (relatively) varied cross section example of the different ways in which an author’s celebrity and award winning comes into play with regards to their novels, or as I like to call them, products.

Stephen King is an impressive example of the author as goliath.  I won’t list his sale figures and assumed income from bookselling, because I think it is fair to imagine both figures would be unimaginably impressive.  The point I would like to make is how King is one of the best authors at using his name as a selling point on the front cover of his books, despite winning very few literary Literary Awards (of course, King has won a whole host of awards, but he has never won what literary critics would consider a ‘literary’ award).  So, looking at a selection of King’s book covers from different times in his career, it becomes clear that his name, or brand, becomes the key feature:

www.abebooks.com

As you can see from this First Edition, first printing of King's debut novel, compared to the title of the book 'Carrie', King's name is printed in a relatively modest way--perhaps half the size of the book's title. 

www.waterstones.com

www.amazon.co.uk

However, these two examples of later editions of King's debut novel-the one on the left is an Amazon Kindle edition and the one on the right a 2011 paperback reprint of the novel-show just how significant the authors name has become.  King's name is now the focal point of the novels front cover.  And in the case of the 2011 paperback, his name has been accompanied by the helpful reminder that this novel comes from a 'No1 Bestselling Writer'.  

While King is an exceptional and, to some extent, slightly off topic (for the purposes of this blog) author, this kind of authorial branding is typical of some of our very own genre fiction writers.  Ian Rankin, a bestselling author whose popular crime series which followed the trials and tribulations of the unorthodox Detective Inspector Rebus was turned into an extraordinarily successful television series has also become a brand (and, to some extent, so has his eponymous protagonist Rebus). 

Rankin's early work, which included the introduction of DI Rebus as well as stand alone novels, were well received, but not huge sellers.  His 'big break' came with the release of his 15th novel, but 8th in the Rebus series Black and Blue, which won the Crime Writer's Association's Gold Dagger Award for the Best Crime Novel of the Year.  Indeed, like King, despite huge critical acclaim and bestseller status, Rankin has apparently failed to garner the kind of prestige that would warrant a 'literary' award win.  When asked by an audience member at an Edinburgh Book Festival show why crime fiction and, unusually enough, Rebus himself, been recognised nationally by the Man Booker or a similar major literary prize, Rankin acknowledges that in the UK some genres of fiction, science fiction, historic fiction and crime for example, are seen as "lesser forms" and "not literature".  Noting how this is not the case in all cultures, Rankin suggests that the only way this can change in the UK is for crime writing to "keep getting better and better" and "be relevant".  He also continues to say how, when 'literary' authors such as Martin Amis and Susan Hill (his picks) write a crime novel, it "ceases to be a crime novel" (this cracking interview with Ian Rankin can be found here). That said, it is telling, in terms of Literary Awards and authorial popularity, that Rankin's so-called 'breakthrough' novel was an award winner. 

Akin to the analysis of King earlier, here are a couple of examples of how Rankin's book typography has changed over the years with his growing popularity and bestseller status.

Rankin novels circa 2010 with the familiar  tagline 'The
Number One Bestseller'. Orion Publishing.

First Edition of Rankin's debut novel The Flood.
Polygon 1986.

Finally, we come to the topical and contemporary example of Hilary Mantel.  To be fair, Mantel has bucked the trend when it comes to Literary Awards.  Her 12th novel, Wolf Hall won the Man Booker Prize in 2009, fending off competition from past winner A S Byatt and regular shortlistee Sarah Waters.  In an alarming example of coincidence, in 2009 Mantel also beat J M Coetzee to the post, Coetzee being one of the three male authors who, alongside Mantel herself, have won the Man Booker prize twice.  This second win came in 2012 for Mantel's 13th novel, and sequel to previous winner Wolf Hall, Bringing Up the Bodies.  Another reason why Mantel's win is a statistical anomaly-besides also winning her the Costa Book of the Year Award-is the fact that her novel falls within the boundaries of the 'historic novel', a genre we already know is usually assumed to be a "lesser" genre of fiction.

Original First Edition, 2009.

Paperback edition, March 2010.

All in all, Mantel is a perfect contemporaneous example of the Literary Award win catapulting the author, their brand and their image into the media stratosphere.  And the most remarkable thing about Mantel's change is the sheer speed at which her career has changed from mid-list literary author, to international bestselling household name.  Within three to four years Mantel has broken Literary Award records (including becoming the only woman to win the Man Booker twice), while her two award winning novels have earned her approximately £80,000 in award money alone. 

Paperback edition of Mantel's second Man Booker
prize winning novel Bringing Up the Bodies.

Her Literary Award wins have now become synonymous with the original texts, a mere glance over the development of her book covers over the past few years shows just how quickly her name has usurped the space previously held for the book title itself.
 

And, as if that was not enough, her books are now being treated as collectibles, an accolade some authors have to wait for years, or even death, to achieve.

A collectible Signed Limited Edition Wolf Hall is a steal at £250!  

So, what then, does all of this mean in real terms?  Does it really affect the way we consume literature?  Are consumers more enticed by a name, 'bestseller tagline' or sticker denoting the books position within a Literary Award competition?  Personally, I think it does change the transaction that happens between a reader, retailer and publisher.  Sales go up, debate is enlivened and authors become the topics of conversation in mainstream media (which, let's be honest, doesn't happen nearly enough).  But, is this literary-award-bestseller stardom always a good thing?  I'm not convinced.  Literary Awards canonize literature, highlighting a select few texts and authors out of a possible thousand (or million, if you take the endless possibilities translation can offer).  While Hilary Mantel was this years pick, it will be someone else topping the award lists and sales charts next year.

However, one thing that Literary Award culture is maintaining, as we can see above, is the promotion of the book as an object, or collectible artifact.  Indeed, this idea of the book as a commodity worth having is highly significant, particularly in a world of Kindles, Nooks and Kobos.  What's more, in creating these instant classics, Literary Awards create infamous authors who then become celebrities who can visit bookshops, schools, libraries and festivals signing books and talking to their readership.  This aspect of Literary Award culture, the celebritisation of authors, is only ever going to be a good thing for their fans, but it only adds to the complex economic transactions (which are not always purely monetary, remember) that are created and maintained by Literary Award culture.

Further reading:

James F.English, The Economy of Prestige: Prizes, Awards and the Circulation of Cultural Value (2005, Harvard University Press)

Richard Todd, Consuming Fictions: The Booker Prize and Fiction in Britain T0day 1996, Bloomsbury) -- Although slightly out of date in terms of statistics and winning authors, Todd's theory is still highly relevant and easily applied to the workings of today's Literary Awards.