In March, I noticed a particular video on TikTok was garnering a lot of attention from the BookTok community. The video, posted by a user named Daisy, commenced with text that read “I’ll never forgive TikTok for what it’s done to literature.” A provocative opening gambit, that’s for sure. Next, she decried the platform for promoting “generic genre[s]” such as “good girl/bad boy” and “mafia boss”, before concluding the video with a courageous statement: “I miss when literature actually meant something.” Her examples included An Inspector Calls, Schindler’s Ark and The Tempest.
And, like many others who responded to the video, I would like to put forward my own defence of BookTok.
To begin with, literature that “means something” has not gone anywhere—it probably never will. But firstly, how do we define literature that means something? I would define it as literature that has a deeper, maybe political, message; literature like 1984 and Brave New World. Or perhaps literature that moves you, deep in your heart and soul; literature like Wuthering Heights and Anna Karenina.
Literature that falls into both categories still exists and, what’s more, is regularly promoted on BookTok. A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara, published in 2015, is widely regarded as a modern-day classic and one of the saddest books ever written. It skyrocketed in popularity on BookTok in 2022 and centres around themes of pain, suffering, loss, abuse, drugs and suicide.
Another example is Kazuo Ishiguro’s Klara and the Sun, written in 2021 and similarly promoted upon its release. Ishiguro is renowned for tackling profound themes including identity loss, philosophy and the influence of the American Dream on Japanese culture; Klara and the Sun is set in a dystopian America and offers commentary on human versus machine consciousness. If this doesn’t constitute modern literature that “means something” then I’m not sure what does.
The rise of BookTok has also resulted in a wealth of lesser-known authors having their work discovered and popularised, when they may have otherwise flown under the radar. Because this is the internet (as opposed to, for example, The New York Review of Books or The Times Literary Supplement), anybody can share their thoughts and opinions on a book they’ve read. Journalists and critics are no longer the only people who are qualified to discuss literature.
An appropriate example is Sheena Patel, whose debut novel I’m a Fan was published in 2022. The book follows an unnamed protagonist who is obsessed with her casual, older and married partner. Up until this point, Patel was a relatively unknown author from a BAME background; following its online popularity, the book won the British Book Award in the Discover category and was longlisted for the 2023 Women’s Prize for Fiction. I would argue that a portion of its success came down to BookTok (as well as the fact that it’s a great read). I found out about I’m a Fan via a TikTok video, and I’m sure countless others did too. By promoting and publicising books online, BookTok can shine a light on particular, and often underrepresented, authors. This in turn leads to greater attention from bookstores (think of the BookTok display stands in Waterstones!), wider recognition and more sales.
In addition, a survey conducted by Publishers Lunch found that the top 90 BookTok authors saw their cumulative sales increase from nine million units in 2020 to twenty million in 2021—impressive numbers, and primarily down to the widespread exposure that BookTok is able to provide.
I firmly believe that anything that encourages young people to read is a good thing, and BookTok is doing just that. Although it may promote “generic genres” (often young adult fiction or romance), there are certainly worse things to advocate to young people online. I know my fair share of peers who are horrified by the aforementioned BookTok displays in Waterstones, but if they are influencing people to pick up books who may not have done so otherwise, I see no issue. And for those who are truly concerned about what others are reading—Y/A fiction, romance, “good girl/bad boy” and “mafia boss” books are great stepping stones before moving onto “better” literature. Once the reading spark is ignited, people tend to continue to expand their tastes and figure out their niche. What’s not to like?
So there we have it—my defence of BookTok. It’s certainly not for everyone, and I can partially understand why. But, in my opinion, it has two crucial impacts on the modern literary world. It facilitates the exposure of a greater number of unknown and indie authors, and it promotes the habit of reading to young people. So next time you see a video discussing BookTok and what it’s “done to literature”, try and consider it a positive thing!
Words by Daisy Couture
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