A Companion to the History of the Book (75 page)

But what of the negotiations made by consumers, rather than those presented to them by intermediary producers (be they local publishers or pirates)? How do consumers make their purchasing decisions, and how do readers read? What appropriations are made by readers? The link between book history and reader-response theory has been well established, notably by Darnton himself in “First Steps Towards a History of Reading,” which calls for “a history as well as a theory of reader response” (1990a: 157), and by Guglielmo Cavallo and Roger Chartier in the introduction to their
History of Reading in the West
(1999).

A more recent exploration of the link was made by Christine Pawley in her article “Seeking ‘Significance’: Actual Readers, Specific Reading Communities” (2002). Pawley uses Benedict Anderson’s concept of the “imagined community” in order to foreground empirical study and “real” readers (Anderson 1983; Pawley 2002: 145). Tracing the evidence of actual US reading communities in the form of library records from 1890s’ Iowa and 1950s’ Wisconsin, Pawley builds up quantitative data in order to analyze patterns of readership and develop theories about the social interactions that were indicated by them. Pawley goes on to discuss other researchers’ investigations into more recent reading communities, and the more ethnographic methods that contemporaneous study allows but is lost to the longer-term historical researcher. She refers to Janice A. Radway’s (1984) observational work on women’s readings of romance fiction and Elizabeth Long’s (2003) study of reading groups and book clubs, to which should also be added the surveys of Jenny Hartley (2001, 2002) and DeNel Rehberg Sedo (2002). (Leah Price’s 2004 article, “Reading: The State of the Discipline,” gives a more thorough overview of studies in readership.)

It is worth noting that much of this recently undertaken ethnographic investigation into reading habits and practices specifically addresses issues of gendered or ethnic reading communities. These studies therefore have a strongly focused ideological underpinning. They also have a clearly empirical basis, using techniques of both quantitative and qualitative social science research. Hartley’s book, for example, is reliant on a large sample response to a questionnaire survey, observation, and focus-group-style discussion (Hartley 2002). Through this combination of quantitative and qualitative methods, Hartley addresses such issues as the composition and purpose of reading groups, their strategies for choosing and discussing texts, prevailing trends in the choice of texts, as well as touching on the historical background to book and reading societies and groupings and their specific contexts. With regard to the composition of reading groups, for example, Hartley’s survey unsurprisingly demonstrated their domination by women, with 69 percent of the groups being all female. Women in reading groups commented on the lack of men in their group, giving a range of remarks from “Can’t find any men who read” to “All female – we want to keep it like that” to “We enjoy being independent from men with meaningful, intelligent conversations.” However, some of the longest-established reading groups responding to her survey were all male, with histories and sometimes formalized codes of behavior stretching back into the eighteenth century (Hartley 2002: 27–8). These issues are sociological, historical, economic, and literary in nature, and their interdisciplinary fusion clearly accords with that of book history in general.

Another recent example of research focused on reader activity and response is that of Paul C. Gutjahr (2002). Taking as a broader historical context the attitudes of American Christians toward the novel, Gutjahr examines the emergence of one particular series of Christian novels (the “Left Behind” books) and reader responses to them via the customer reviews section of the Internet bookseller Amazon.com. By coding the content of the customer reviews, and thus quantifying responses to the series, and then by a follow-up questionnaire sent to reviewers (at the time of research Amazon.com included the e-mail contact details of reviewers), Gutjahr was able to establish demographic information (including reviewers’ denominations and perception of their faith), the attitudes of readers toward the series, and their use of it for devotional, evangelical, and exegetical purposes. Gutjahr’s findings allow him to make a broader argument about the relationship of American Christian readers to the novel, claiming that the gap between Bible reading and novel reading has narrowed, and “a clear and influential connection exists between the reading of sacred and nonsacred works. Such a connection forces one to reconsider how best to redefine the term
sacred text”
(Gutjahr 2002: 227). Once more, empirical research into reader response allows an understanding of book consumption, set within an historical and ideological framework.

And yet it is this sort of study, which allows researchers to analyze the negotiations readers make with texts, textual producers, and critical authority figures, that is largely missing from the evidence-base of recent book history. In order to investigate the consumption patterns of a global commodity such as
Harry Potter,
substantial surveys of reader-response data would have to be devised, applied, and analyzed. Information sources, such as customer reviews on Amazon.com and its various international partners, could certainly be addressed, while being aware of the limitations of a sample derived from Amazon, as Gutjahr discusses:

First, Amazon.com appeals to a specific, computer-literate, credit-able clientele. It is impossible to say just how accurate a representation this clientele is of the nation’s reading public as a whole, as it is also impossible to say how representative these readers are of those who read [a given] series.

Second, it is impossible to tell much about the readers themselves. Aside from offering the content of their reviews and an occasional note on geographical location, the reviewers remain largely anonymous. There is no way to confirm either the content or the identity of those who write these reviews.

Finally, those who write the reviews tend to have strong opinions about the book upon which they are commenting. They need to be motivated to get back online to key in their thoughts … (Gutjahr 2002: 219)

Despite these reservations, however, the Internet and the way in which it has allowed readers to express their responses to texts in a public forum, provides a rich research tool for scholars, and a potential testing-ground for various theories of the popularity (or otherwise) of books and the uses to which they are put. Gutjahr explicitly set out to discover via his Amazon analysis and subsequent survey the ways in which readers use the “Left Behind” series to affirm and develop their Christian perspectives. In my own construction of a case study of Helen Fielding’s bestselling novel
Bridget Jones’s Diary
(1995), reviewers’ comments on Amazon.co.uk (the British version of the Internet bookseller) were similarly revealing (Squires 2007). Among many others, these two views of the novel and its eponymous protagonist had been posted:

[1] This is about as funny as being stuck in a police cell. Bridget Jones should be shot, and Helen Fielding let off with a caution. This is unrealistic, unfunny, uninteresting, unoriginal pap. The editor should also be shot for allowing this weak, angsty, old hat creation to grace our bookshops. What a relief that Bridget Jones is too sad to find a partner and we’re spared any genetic reproduction on that front. I wonder, is Ms Fielding aware that a movement known as feminism occurred this century. Please, no more of this rubbish.

[2] Yes, yes, yes. I am quite aware that this is not the most liberated of portrayals of the inner workings of a woman’s mind. No doubt strident feminists are at this very minute burning the book and it’s [sic] author in effigy. But come on girls, which one of us can honestly say you haven’t thought along the same lines as Bridget at least once? I would not consider myself a slave to my need for emotional fulfilment, or see it as tied to my finding a bloke but I can see where Bridget is coming from. None of us wants to end up dead, half-eaten by an Alsatian. This is a tender, funny and inspiring book. It certainly made me laugh. (Amazon 1999)

These two responses to the novel use the same frame of reference to opposing effect. In terms of the readers’ respective attitudes to the novel’s perceived humor and relation to reality, the first finds it “unrealistic, unfunny, uninteresting,” while the second appeals to fellow female browsers to admit that none “can honestly say you haven’t thought along the same lines as Bridget at least once,” and freely admits that it “made me laugh.” Both refer to Bridget Jones’s situation as a single girl to indicate either a personal affinity or anger about the portrayal of a perceived social type. Both also mention feminism as a key reference point to express their reactions. Within these two reader responses, then, are the suggestions of a debate that call upon questions not only of literary value but also of literary fashion and form, empathy and audience appeal. If analyzed, reader responses such as these two can begin to suggest why some books take a hold in the consumer consciousness. Indeed, when combined with textual study, an exploration of publishers’ and book retailers’ marketing activities, and media reception, such analysis can begin to hint at why some books become bestsellers rather than others.

Similar studies could certainly be constructed with regard to other global book phenomena. As well as reader surveys and ethnographic methods, advancing technology in the period 1970–2000, most particularly during the past decade, have allowed other avenues of research into consumer activity. Global commodities such as
Harry Potter,
J. R. R. Tolkein’s
The Lord of the Rings
trilogy, and Terry Pratchett’s
Discworld
series spawn a growing number of fan websites, chatrooms, and online fan fiction. The latter trend, in particular, is symptomatic of the ways in which, as both Tomlinson and Wirtén discuss, consumers negotiate, appropriate, rewrite, create anew, interfere and tamper with the text. Moreover, as Rebecca Sutherland Borah (2002) investigates in her ethnographic observations of online
Harry Potter
fan communities, such a study can document the very real resistance of readers around the world to attempts by global, multimedia conglomerates (in this case Warner Brothers) to control intellectual property, merchandising, and appropriations by readers in the form, for example, of fan fiction and websites.

A group of schoolboy fans of
Harry Potter
in the Czech Republic, like the opportunistic pirate in China, also tired of waiting for the fifth book to appear and, with the English-language edition readily available to them, began to translate and post on the Internet a Czech-language version well in advance of the appearance of the official version. This violation of copyright law prompted comments from the Czech publisher, who adopted the tone of a stern Hogwarts teacher: “We have contacted our lawyer and we are speaking with the Czech police,” he said. “We know their [the boys’] names and addresses … They are fans of Harry Potter. They just don’t know how complicated and dangerous this is. [The boys] … think it’s funny. But it’s not funny for us or Ms Rowling . . .” He also criticized their translating work, and said: “There are a lot of mistakes” (
News24.com
2003).

This is a striking example of readers who, by becoming “authors” of a translated text, place themselves in strict contravention of intellectual property law, the means by which global commodities are defined, controlled, and exploited. The global might of Rowling and her associated business partners can undoubtedly quash such malefactors through the courts, but global and highly visible commodities such as
Harry Potter
inevitably attract appropriation: this is simultaneously a sign of their success and a challenge to the owners of the intellectual property. As Borah mentions, appropriations by younger readers of the series include readerly acts as inoffensive and innocent-seeming as drawing pictures or making costumes and wands. She describes how corporations attempt to control their properties and thereby inhibit imaginative appropriations :

younger fans are discouraged from creating their own texts and making their own objects in favor of buying “genuine” goods and joining “official” fan clubs. Rather than being encouraged to connect with other readers/viewers and to participate in shared communal activities (which don’t directly benefit a company), youngsters are often treated as passive consumers, ready to accept whatever is hailed as the newest fad to be viewed and collected. Generally, as young audiences age, many fans lose interest in their initial pursuits, due in part to being over-targeted with mass-produced consumables that quickly become obsolete memorabilia. As they move into adolescence, these fans often shift their attention to different pastimes such as sports, video games, or social activities, which may lead them into other types of fan communities. (Borah 2002: 349–50)

More specifically, she discusses the extreme merchandising of
Harry Potter,
and the heavy-handed legal efforts made by Warner Brothers to close down unofficial
Harry Potter
websites (including legitimate, non-profit sites which did not contravene copyright law). Some of these attempts amounted, in Borah’s words, to “harassment” (2002: 355). The resilience of some of these sites, and of reader activity generally, however, makes clear that consumers can become pitted against producers, and is a fascinating example of how text is used, owned, and appropriated by a variety of frequently conflicting stakeholder groups. The consumer here is clearly not just a passive recipient of the production and marketing strategies of global, multimedia conglomerates.

Market Research

These few examples show a variety of ways in which research into reader activity can be used to understand more about trends in recent global consumption, and to suggest lines along which further research can be conducted. And yet they cannot do much more than hint at global patterns, and they do not provide a complete overview of the global market from the perspective of consumers. To do this would require a comprehensive and consistent set of both quantitative and qualitative data, the likes of which – even in this age of information – does not exist.