As an English student and writer, I adore settling down with a good book, losing a few hours immersed in another world. Today, there seems to be a shift in the narrative of reading and books: modern literature has regressed into shallow entertainment, almost entirely abandoning the roots of classic literature. Let’s unpack this argument and consider some of the gendered dimensions accompanying the decline of modern literature.
Let’s first address exactly how literature has changed from the classics commonly read in school, or maybe still read now (especially if you’re an English student like me). Classic novels (think The Handmaid’s Tale, 1984, Frankenstein, Great Expectations) all have a few things in common: they ask you to think critically and deeply about what you are reading, they are complex and often challenging to read, and they also resemble the culture and time in which they were written. Their difficulty speaks to their craft as an intentional, intellectual, and creative experiment with style, context, and voice. Compare this with a Colleen Hoover book, or a romantasy fiction that line the bestseller shelves. These books are as easy to read as watching Bridget Jones’ Diary, Legally Blonde, or your favourite TV series; they require little critical thinking, often have repetitive romantic themes or explicit material, and provide little intellectual stimulation. The experience of reading has changed, and maybe not for good.
There’s an important aspect of this debate that modern literature has been ‘ruined’ (especially by booktok and social media discourse around modern lit) that we need to consider. Modern literature has become feminised, meaning that women now dominate the literary world: 3/4 of the NYT Bestseller List in 2024 were written by women, and BookTok also resembles a significantly female space for reading discussion. The term ‘male flight’ appears relevant here, describing a phenomenon in which men leave an activity or career once it becomes feminised, often leading it to lose status. The reverse of this famously occurred in the first half of the 20th century, where computer programming was once seen as a low-status, low-paid job predominantly run by women. Yet when men joined the field, and have since dominated, it has become high status and very well paid. Could the reverse be happening with books now that reading and writing are perceived as ‘female’ activities?
Whilst I think there is definitely some merit to this argument, I also think there’s an aspect of the marketing of women’s literature that plays a role here. In the Victorian era and possibly beyond, writing was perceived as an intellectual exercise reserved for men. It’s no surprise the icons of the era- the Brontë Sisters- used male pseudonyms to be accepted into this intellectual sphere of ‘good’ writing. Today, books such as romance, romantasy, or ‘spicy’ books are marketed as ‘women’s lit’ or ‘chicklit’, continuing to exclude women from the writing and reading of good, intellectual books. The label of women’s lit suggests that men’s writing is the standard, and women’s is supplementary, as there is no ‘men’s lit’ category.
The issue isn’t that these ‘chicklit’ books exist, and I, too, enjoy reading a cheesy romance every once in a while. I believe people should be able to read whatever they want without judgment, and any reading is better than none at all. However, these books become so popular in the media, and are labelled as ‘women’s lit’, incorrectly suggesting that these books are all women want to read; this trend of literature has greatly influenced what is published and what writers think their readership wants, leading to a decline in ‘good’ literature of a classic standard. Under the label of ‘women’s fiction’, authors of these chicklit books are grouped with those who write with significant depth and intention, such as Sally Rooney and Zadie Smith’s complex exploration of class and identity, yet are overshadowed by the ease and attraction (pretty covers, juicy plot lines) of lower standard literature.
Gender aside, the inescapable phenomena of AI have proved to be a significant influence on the types of books being published. It’s not that ‘chicklit’ and women’s books like those written by Emily Henry, Ali Hazlewood, etc, are ‘bad’ or a reflection of women’s intellectual inferiority, but rather a wider, genderless cultural reflection upon society’s lack of critical thinking abilities. The rise of AI and reliance on digital media is associated with weaker critical thinking skills and shorter attention spans, so that a quick ChatGPT search to summarise your uni readings or using Copilot to help refine your essay has a more significant impact than you think. Many of today’s readers want quick, easy-to-read books they don’t have to actively think about or criticise, which explains the rise of literature that lacks critical depth (sorry, Colleen Hoover). Reading has become all about entertainment, rather than actually thinking about what you’re reading.
Books are important. They help us experience diverse perspectives, feel empathy for others, and reflect on what needs to change in our society. They have historically served as stimuli for change in this way, with books like To Kill a Mockingbird sparking discussion of racial injustice that encouraged readers to reflect on prejudice and inequality. We should be careful when claiming that literature has declined, given the gendered assumptions around this, and it’s important to acknowledge that the media frenzy around ‘bad’ literature overshadows some incredible work still written by women today. I encourage you to pick up a classic book, with some great recommendations featured in this HC article. In an era that prioritises ease and efficiency, reading classic literature is an act of defiance and a reminder that empathy and criticising the world we live in will always be important.