Without festivals

Those of us who look forward to book festivals will no doubt have to accept that this is going to be a lost winter

In the months — or, in subjective terms, several lifetimes — that we have all been social distancing, our attitudes to books and reading have see-sawed, much like our approach to other things such as working in our pyjamas, Netflix, and haircuts. At first we might have been wildly excited to finally catch up on our reading. A month or two later, we began to look for books that reflected our experience — books about isolation, or about epidemics. Yet later, dealing with reality or even anything too new began to be a bit of a chore and we searched for experiences that provided comfort, or a glimpse of the lost “normal” —books we may have read for comfort, books that reminded us of travel and vacations, or, if we were lucky enough, books that we once read for comfort on vacation. 

And what has been our attitude to the one aspect of the reader’s life that had become a mainstay of the 21st century: The books festival? Will we miss it? Do we even remember what a life with literature festivals felt like? After all, the pandemic began to bite only in late February and early March, as the high season of literature festivals was drawing to a close. The act of attending a festival seems like it belongs to a different age. When the Jaipur Literature Festival was on in end January, I met people from all over the world — but I do not recall a single conversation about what was happening in Wuhan, even with people from mainland China. Yet, in a month or so, the season of festivals will roll around again, as the heat of summer dissipates after Diwali. 

Those of us who look forward to our local book festivals will no doubt have to accept that this is going to be a lost winter. One does hope, of course, that enough festivals manage to survive till next year, given the crunch in spending and sponsorship brought on by the pandemic. That is by no means certain, however. Studies by Rand and Brookings have demonstrated that, in the United States, the arts industry is the one perhaps most at risk from the pandemic. Only a few countries have managed to get support put together; the United Kingdom has actually set aside a billion and half pounds for theatres, galleries and museums. And even then, in most places organisations or companies that depend upon seasonal or shifting arts events for revenue are not exactly part of the discussion when it comes to such support. In India, the state has no idea how many people are even in the creative industries. 

Also hit will be authors, especially first time authors. The book tour is a thing of the past. Some bookshops and so on might still have careful, socially distanced events for writers to meet possible readers. Yet, and in particular for first-timers, the real way to scale up direct contact with your audience was through literature festivals. I wonder how many books released in 2020 will not be sufficiently noticed because of the lack of such opportunities. 
 

Of course, many have tried virtual, online substitutes for the real things — which will, I promise, be the subject of a future iteration of this column. Yet, for new authors at least, such a replacement will not be entirely satisfying. Normally, they would hope to be serendipitous discoveries, to attract readers who had turned up to hear a big name and wandered into their session as well. It’s hard to see how that could be replicated in an online format, where spontaneity is in general a bit of a problem.  
 

And so it is nice to hear of the occasional smaller festival that has, while accepting the dangers of this year, also refused to throw in the towel. Last fortnight, for example, the small Devon village of Appledore held its annual festival — except in a drive-in space. People watched from their car, or from picnic chairs next to a car. According to the website “each event had a ten minute Q&A at the end, before the audience showed its appreciation by flashing their headlights and tooting their horns.” More useful and sustaining forms of appreciation were also available: “Upon exiting each event, signed books were available to purchase by contactless payment from the drive-through book stall.”