Earlier this week I blogged about news values and the Richard III discovery. One comment noted that I had a book to promote: wasn’t I doing exactly the sort of public engagement work I was criticising?
The point I was trying to make is that news values – and indeed commercial values – can shape the way that academic research is presented to the public. I’ve found this in the course of my own trade (non-academic) history writing.
Look at the three book covers in the image above. They’re all the same book, but from left to right you have the UK hardback edition (Bodley Head), the US edition (Palgrave) and the UK paperback (Vintage). As you can see, the title has changed. What started out as Our Man in Rome: Henry VIII and his Italian Ambassador has become The Divorce of Henry VIII: The Untold Story. But the book’s the same. It’s still the story of the diplomat who spent six years trying (and failing) to get Henry his ‘divorce’ from Catherine of Aragon. It’s just being marketed differently. Though I liked my original title, and if you read the book you’ll get the reference to Our Man in Havana, I understand why my publishers wanted to put the iconic Henry image on the front and to tie the book more immediately to its best-known feature: the divorce.
Beyond the marketing, the book has worked for a wider public, I think, because it tells an ‘untold story’ related to a piece of history most people in the UK know a bit about. The academic research it drew on wasn’t, particularly, about Henry VIII’s divorce. It was about the way that ambassadors operated in Rome: how they socialised, how they dressed, how the rules for the ceremonial world of diplomacy developed. That was interesting for scholars of the Renaissance but it was detailed, technical stuff and didn’t have obvious, direct appeal for a general audience. But using that work as a backdrop for the divorce story did. The Tudors are iconic figures in British culture. They’re taught in schools, feature widely on TV and have the ever-attractive qualities of royalty, sex and violence to boot. The Henry angle made for a book with much broader interest.
Does this matter? Well, despite the pressures to deliver research ‘impact’ I don’t think news agendas or commercial imperatives are about to ruin the values of the historical profession. There’s still scope for the less-sexy research topics, and most historians are pretty clear about what’s acceptable or unacceptable in public presentations of their work. But it is important to talk about how we do public engagement. That way we have a better chance of making sure we do it well.
Catherine Fletcher is Lecturer in Public History at the University of Sheffield. Her book, The Divorce of Henry VIII, comes out in paperback on 7 February.
You can find other History Matters blogs on public history here.
This immediately makes me suspect there are a lot of (to me) interesting books on obscurer aspects of major episodes that I’m not picking up in the bookshop, because they’ve got something totally different (usually, it must be said, Henry VIII) plastered over the front.
I presume it has been calculated that for every sale to me lost, a dozen other sales are gained. But I’d love to know how. I’d also love to know whether those people feel mis-sold to if the book isn’t quite about what they expected.
That’s an interesting point Alix. The calculation doesn’t surprise me, but I wonder if anyone’s actually tested the effect of different titles on sales.
I also wonder at what point (if ever) the market will reach total saturation with Nazis and Tudors and want to read about Aztecs and medieval peasants instead…
I am interested in history – being of European descent I am more interested in that sphere but do not preclude your Aztecs, or elsewhere. Indeed Keay’s “India – a History” has proven fascinating reading.
I am however askance at the theme that appears to value “peasant bones” above those of an identifiable king. It smacks of inverted snobbery. To me they are both of historical value – but the king, in his time – influenced the future of the kingdom whereas the peasant simply existed.
Both are worthy of study – for what they tell us of diet and chronic disease – but one can be identified by name – the other not. We value our names – and there is the visceral link for most of the public – the bones have a name. Just like us!
We cannot look back in the way so many appear to do and apply today’s morals and mores to the past.
I think part of the calculation is about the way search engines work. Now so many people buy books online it’s important to get key words that they might search on into the title. Do people feel mis-sold to? I don’t know. The online reviews of my book (with the new title) have usually made the point that it’s a sideways take on the divorce so I hope people read those before they buy!
I agree with Alix – I tend to mooch around bookshops and see what appeals to me (even if I then go and download the Kindle version) rather than searching for something specific. I would almost certainly ignore yet another book about Henry VIII but one about Renaissance ambassadors sounds fascinating. But without reading this article, I would probably never have found it, and a sale is lost.
I personally would much prefer to read about the Aztecs and Medieval peasants than the Tudors and Nazis, which have been done to death. Maybe following all the hoo-ha over Richard III, the Plantagenets will now become fashionable!
Let’s hope you’re right and this stirs up interest in all kinds of history! I know a good book about the Aztecs if you’re looking for one… 😉
Thanks for the comment Ruth – makes me think about how important the blogosphere has become to selling books!