The Hot-girl-ification of Literature
*Article from Lexington Line Autumn/Winter 2024 Issue, pages 18-19
Check out the full issue here
It is a school night in autumn, the decor is up, and you’re tucked in bed with one of the Magic Tree House books nestled in your lap. You know you shouldn’t be awake, yet you neglect rest to get a taste of the next chapter.
Dreaming isn’t exclusively for the young, and as we’ve known since childhood, reading can activate the imagination and intellect in profound ways.
“The way that you reflect on the plot of a book really helps you figure out what your own values are,” says Madison Huizinga, who published a piece on Substack last December titled “BookTok is Turning Books into Commodities: On the Dampening of Art & Literature on TikTok.”
“Even if you’re not thinking through that consciously—those are really important building blocks to gather as you’re growing up and developing a moral constitution.”
Reading is a way to foster our connection with the deepest parts of ourselves. It helps us retain what we learn in ways other media cannot and can help us empathize and understand others.
The good news is that young people still seem to be reading; the bad news is that in the BookTok era, it often seems like a case of quantity over quality, of public performance over personal growth.
On BookTok, a popular TikTok sub-community, readers share reviews, recommendations, and insights about literature. The medium emphasizes short videos designed to leave a significant impact. However, what began as a space for meaningful thoughts and emotions now emphasizes not only how much you read, but how you look while you’re doing it.
There are a myriad of reasons why the community has shifted this way, but in a way, it is just how social media has cultivated our minds.
“People are concerned with presenting as intelligent versus actually being intelligent,” Huizinga says. “I also think that there’s something to be said about sitting and reflecting with a work of something versus sharing your opinion on it right away because I think that we are very complex people.”
This troubling trend gives rise to another: men reading classic literature to be perceived as “deep.” Everyone fights silent battles over how they are perceived and whether they want to be perceived at all. But this kind of showmanship is depressing.
Reading a book is a very personal experience, a way to challenge yourself honestly and openly. We will always have our communities of family, friends, or peers, but it is solely on us to provoke, broaden, and complicate our already complex minds.
“Books that are deeply internal and emotional have really helped me gain a better understanding of myself,” Huizinga says. “I’m so much more thoughtful about my own emotions and my own relationships and experiences after reading.”
Books force you to think and use your imagination in ways that have the potential to atrophy in our world of screen-based media. That’s why it’s problematic when they become simply a byproduct of mediums like TikTok. Huizinga suggests this is an almost dystopian way of being, lives filled with sameness and imitation that do not test the mind.
“We’re all just kind of seeking this very formulaic and cookie-cutter format that will satisfy us. And I don’t really think it’s challenging a lot of people,” she says.
“When you don’t know what you like in literature and media, it can kind of cause a dilemma of self,” she continues, “You’re just kind of like, what do I even read?”
So take recommendations from TikTok if you must, but get them everywhere else, too. And remember that in many cases, you’re likely to get more out of reading the same great book ten times—really knowing it, what it’s doing and why—then reading ten different books and showing off your stack.
Reading doesn’t have to be social; perhaps i’ts what you learn from reading that should be. So when you step into your local bookstore and spot that BookTok table on display, maybe walk past it and look around with fresh eyes.