Do literature festivals promote elitism, or do they build bridges and enable access? Is the guarantee of free speech available only to those who promise not to upset the status quo? Are the gatekeepers of art and culture keen on dialogue only as long as dissent remains palatable?
I pondered these questions last week while listening to an invigorating online panel discussion titled “Literature festivals: building trust, celebrating creativity, and strengthening communities”. It was moderated by Jared Shurin, a London-based strategist at M&C Saatchi World Services, as part of Unesco’s Global Media and Information Literacy Week 2022.
The discussion struck a chord as it brought up issues that I have wrestled with as a literature student, journalist, and consumer of culture. Even festivals that are free to attend can end up making attendees feel unwelcome because of the pressure to dress or speak in a certain way to fit in.
I was happy to hear Syima Aslam, founder and director of Bradford Literature Festival in the UK, speak of the need to take into account “the diverse communities” that her city is home to. When I attend literature festivals in Indian cities, and find that most of the sessions are about books written in English, I wonder why they do not honour the realities of our rich Indian multilingual experience, our various migrant communities, and our oral traditions. Ironically, authors from European countries are often present at these festivals because their embassies either provide some funding support or take care of authors’ travel expenses.
The discussion made me think of another issue: When people from the marginalised communities are invited to participate, do they get to be on stage and speak or are they merely expected to provide colour and flavour with their food stalls and traditional attire? Thankfully, Roland Gulliver, director of Toronto International Festival of Authors, spoke about thinking critically of how, he as a White European, works with indigenous artists.
As a former school teacher, it is always heart-warming for me to see children and teenagers enjoying themselves at festivals. Adults who think that young people do not read or care about serious issues need to examine their assumptions. Even so, I found myself in agreement with Lola Shoneyin, director of Ake Arts and Book Festival as well as Kaduna Book and Arts Festival in Nigeria, who said festivals must put more effort into “creating a vibrant energy that young people like”.
Giving examples of festival sessions challenging homophobia and transphobia, she said, “The volume of information that young people consume is confusing. Sitting down at a literature festival, and listening to different perspectives on an issue is helpful.” Unfortunately, Indian festivals rarely include LGBTQIA+ authors in their programming. When they do, they invite gay and lesbian authors rather than bisexual, transgender, intersex, non-binary or asexual authors. These panellists usually tend to be from dominant caste communities.
There is more to inclusion though. Razi Ahmed, founder and CEO of the Lahore Literary Festival, spoke about the need for literature festivals to have room for leisure and laughter. He said, “We are also intentional about bringing in literary forms like graphic novels that are exciting for young people.” The Lahore Literary Festival invites students to submit creative writing samples, and the most promising writers get to participate in creative writing workshops with publishers.
The ability to write skilfully often depends on opportunities to read widely. Students who come from families that do not have the money to purchase books for leisure reading, may not have the kind of language proficiency that is required to participate in such workshops. Even when there is a sincere intention to include, there are exclusions that inevitably occur.
Sanjoy K Roy, festival producer, Jaipur Literature Festival, was also part of the discussion moderated by Mr Shurin. He did not pretend that everything at the festival is hunky-dory. It has faced criticism for its choice of corporate sponsors, supposed platforming of right-wing voices, and featuring panelists accused of sexual harassment. Mr Roy admitted that the festival “gets slammed by the left and the right”, arguing that their prerogative is to give space to different viewpoints and to show that people can disagree respectfully.
Krista Kaer, who is part of the organising team of Tallinn HeadRead Literary Festival in Estonia, hit the nail on the head when she suggested that literature festivals cannot heal conflicts in society but they can certainly provide exposure to different perspectives.
Some writers choose not to attend certain festivals because of their political convictions. There are others who attend them despite their political convictions. I respect both approaches. Literature festivals are significant opportunities for networking, and writers who do not have the security net of inherited wealth and social capital cannot afford to lose out.