Malin Lindroth is right that the easy-to-read literature is ghosted
During my mid-teens In 20 years as a literary critic, I have only once reviewed a book in the easy-to-read genre. It was written by Jan-Ewert Strömbäckwas called “Upp till kamp” and was about May Day. For me as a critic it was like an encounter with an alien being. I understood that it wasn’t bad, but I couldn’t formulate the qualities. It was a bit like my first reading of concretist poetry – I understood what was written but couldn’t grasp the aesthetic source code. Today, my scalp burns when I think about the review: I committed the cardinal sin of criticism and outsourced the aesthetic assessment, writing that it would probably be “appreciated by high school students”.
In a debate text in GP means Malin Lindroth that the easy-to-read literature is ghosted in the literary public. Despite the fact that the genre has expanded greatly during the 00s, gained a larger readership and developed aesthetically, it is still regarded as books for dummies, alternatively as “classics”. When famous authors like Agneta Klingspor, Tony Samuelsson and Cecilia Davidson is discussed, their extensive production of easy-to-read books is never mentioned. How is it, Lindroth wonders, that critics do not even make an attempt to understand the easy-to-read style? The aesthetics are strict and clear: no metaphors, no abstract words, no reasoning that cannot be understood out of context. From this scrubbed text, a haiku-like beauty can emerge – not in spite of, but thanks to, the limitations.
Furthermore, Lindroth gives some ingenious interpretations of easy-to-read books. Among other things by Vilhelm Mobergs “The immigrants” in Cecilia Davidsson’s adaptation, where the class aspect becomes more present while the historical context is loosened up. Casually, many cultural journalists probably think of this as a desecration of Moberg’s grave, for “the sake of the good cause”, i.e. accessibility. When in fact it is an adaptation – and therefore should be considered an independent work. Kind of like when a book becomes a movie.
Of course, Lindroth is right in his criticism, especially towards us cultural journalists. When I ask around among my critic colleagues if they have reviewed any easy-to-read books, the answer is consistently no. When I ask the follow-up question if they have read any easy-to-read books at all during their years in the industry, there are further embarrassed head shakes. “Maybe when I was a child,” mutters someone. Personally, I can’t remember reading a single review other than my own. Haven’t seen a single list of easy-to-read titles worth reading.
But don’t despair of us cultural journalists for our ignorance and our shrinking space for criticism. Do what marginalized groups have always done – start a public education project. Why not make a fanzine? Review the new release yourself. Create a canon. Write essays on the style of prominent easy-to-read writers and formulate dogma-like manifestos. Inspired by the magazine Klass, which year after year covered Swedish workers’ literature. Or Opsis, who reviewed children’s literature for almost 40 years. The scope for taking matters into one’s own hands seems gigantic to me.
Rasmus Landström is Aftonbladet’s literature editor.
