Over at TEV, the guest host this week Scott Handy posted some remarks from an email by Helen Sugrue on the marketing over at Barnes & Noble. She feels that not enough people are into taking risks in reading and they are not being encouraged to either at Barnes & Noble, who have a practice of putting up themed tables. Now, themed tables are not in of themselves evil. At my store, we have a display in the front of the store that changes every two weeks or so and the marketing department does decide what goes there. But for instance, the past two weeks we have featured books from the Hesperus Press, which I know was much discussed in the blogsphere several months ago. They publish lesser known works by major authors with forewords by famous people and beautiful covers to boot. Its a great idea and lots of the books sold. That’s a good marketing idea I think. But what Helen objects to (and I agree) are the more mass produced displays—tables with books that have pink and purple and yellow covers with a leg maybe wearing a spiky high-heel or something like that. Its chick-lit. I hate chick-lit personally. If you like reading it, then I am sorry to offend you, but as Helen says:
All these glossy covers are designed to attract women to read non-threatening, fluffy, Friday night with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s prose. A pox on you Candace Bushnell! I think she used her own well-manicured claws to open the lid on a Pandora’s box of profiteering publishing trolls who are spinning with glee at the potential profit to be had on those books which are little more than Vogue/ Lucky magazines in book form. I can just picture Candy B. and her well-heeled troupe of chick-lit hacks tipping back Cosmo’s and discussing the new hotness in the shallow end of the literature pool.)
Its the thought of an office somewhere with a group of people sitting around thinking stuff up that pisses me off. They don’t care what the book is about, they just want you to buy it. All the pastel colors are supposed to grab your attention and make you feel validated.
The chick-lit thing is an example. Its just that the marketing people are beginning to make me feel a bit crazy. Last night while watching television, the Crest Whitestrips commercial came on. My mother has been badgering me for a while about whitening my teeth. And all these commercials make me feel like I need it. But you know what? My teeth are fucking fine. They are not sparkly white and they never have been. Why should I spend $40 on tooth whitening strips? Because the Crest marketing team says so? That’s just silly. So should I be reading whatever crap Barnes & Noble lays out for you? I don’t know. If it appeals to you.
I suppose all I am really saying is that we should be thinking a bit more before buying stuff. Read the back of the book and maybe the first page or two before grabbing it off the table. I bet they have underestimated your intelligence though and you could find something a bit more challenging with just a few more minutes browsing in the fiction section. Okay, rant done.
Bookdwarf 
Damn straight! I know that I am spoiled by my wonderful bookstore, but I walk into a B&N (which is rare, mind you) and I just stand there, tearing my hair out. I like that our fiction section is preciously tucked behind shelves and shelves of nonfiction, something real to catch your eye along the way, you know? But when people come into our store and ask us where the nonfiction section is (when it surrounds them on all sides), it really says something about the way B&N has brainwashed the masses.
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I agree that mass-market books are not an effort for most readers, that they seek, and find, low-hanging fruit in familiar genres and comforting themes. The same is true of film, food, and any other mass-culture product. It’s horribly disappointing and it’s a major point of disagreement between me and my librarian friends who see it as their job to provide whatever the kids want, and rarely, if ever steer them to real quality. Big Jeannette Winterson apologists– not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I’d like to see kids being shown a world of blah blah blah blah. Fact is they don’t want it, don’t like it, have been there and say it sucks. They want what they’re looking for and it’s the task of a business to give them things they want. (Now, as a specialty bookstore it’s your job to give customers the experience and surprise of finding great books they don’t expect to like but do– which is why Harvard succeeds at being what it is).
However, I disagree with V-Bunny– people going into Harvard Bookstore and asking where the nonfiction section is isn’t a result of that whole tendency of mass culture to be banal. It’s just another indication that people don’t read signs and aren’t used to your bookstore’s layout.
v.
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