Ah, what a pretty witches cauldron is brewing here in the UK, where press are being pilloried.
It’s such a brew that I wouldn’t dream of stepping anywhere near the edge in case, by some terrible mishap, I fell in to the boiling mass and was embroiled in tales of phones tapped and rights infringed, swept along all with the other newspaper and magazine staff who are facing the stocks.
The world of the newspaper and the magazine is a peculiar haunt of writers. Journalists, of which I am one, are right at the interface between art and commerce.
And so we are a distinct animal: art and the muse come second to whether this article will put bums on seats. Deadlines have a sledgehammer effect on that winsome malady, Writer’s Block. You write it, or you are poor/get hauled over the coals by a fearsome editor/get sacked.
No time for sentiment here. Write, as William Makepeace Thackeray said, for your life.
Even the most illustrious publication can come to grief, as Mr Murdoch has found to his cost. One is only as good – or as fastidiously honest – as one’s last story.
Two great serial writers of the 19th century – writers who, quite literally, kept readers on the edge of their seats – were Charles Dickens and the aforementioned Thackeray.
Dickens published his early work at the beck and call of publishers Bradbury and Evans, and their journal ‘Household Words’.
He started as editor of the publication in 1850. It was a hotch-potch of serials by different authors and it floundered rather, even with a price tag of tuppence an issue.
So what does a resourceful writer do? Why, he writes a bestseller to feature in his publication.
‘Hard Times’ was published every week between April 1 and August 12, 1854. It doubled circulation and made ‘Household Words’ a force to be reckoned with.
Thackeray threw his lot in with the publishers of Punch.
The brainchild of Henry Mayhew, the rather erratic creator of London Labour and the London Poor, and Mark Lemon, a writer of money spinning dramas and melodramas in Victorian London, the name of this illustrious publication has gone down in the annals of history for its wit.
The name, it is said in popular folklore, comes from a joke the two editors shared: for “Punch is nothing without Lemon.”
The magazine did not do well at first. And who should come to its rescue, just over a year after its launch, but Household Words publishers, Bradbury and Evans.
Then began a golden age for Punch and its new publishers. A group of engaging, humorous writers enchanted London and beyond, known to all as ‘The Punch Brotherhood”. Dickens, as part of the Bradbury and Evans stable, was considered part of this ring.
It was in January 1847 that Thackeray’s first chapters of ‘Vanity Fair’ appeared under Bradbury and Evans’ umbrella. His rare wit ensured the book was voraciously devoured by its public, in chunks of about four chapters at a time. His serials were instantly recognisable on the news stand: their covers were a distinctive lemon yellow.
Back in Dicken’s camp, a dispute was brewing between the great man and his publishers. So he set up his own magazine: ‘All The Year Round’, which ran from 1859-1895.
It was a distinctive light blue-green colour: to stand out on the shelves of the news vendors.
The first issue carried the opening chapters in a great monolith amongst novels: ‘A Tale Of Two Cities’. Every time I read the opening words of that novel my heart beats with the sheer theatre of Dickens’ penmanship. It is in a declamatory style worthy of the great, plush velvet curtain which rises on a masterly roller-coaster.
Is it any wonder the magazine was a runaway success?
Dickens wrote at the time: “So well has All the Year Round gone that it was yesterday able to repay me, with five per cent. interest, all the money I advanced for its establishment (paper, print etc. all paid, down to the last number), and yet to leave a good £500 balance at the banker’s!”
Lucky man.
It is such a marketing maelstrom, when one writes for one’s life.
Perhaps, at home, far from the madding news stands, a writer can truly relax.
Thackeray’s daughter, according to the ‘Oxford Book of Literary Anecdotes’, had an enduring memory of watching her father and the Poet Laureate of the time, Alfred Lord Tennyson, sitting smoking in the twilight after a family meal, in their old house in Kensington.
As Thackeray spoke to her, her younger sister was totally absorbed in a book. But the world called her, as the light faded, and she roused herself and interjected right ion the middle of their talk:”Papa, why do you not write books like ‘Nicholas Nickleby’?”
And so, as we watch news empires struggling to regain markets which may be lost forever, let us remember that this cutthroat world of competition has been around for a very long time; and that even the greatest of our literary forebears has had their marketing strategy questioned, one way or another.
Kate Shrewsday 
What a wonderful post . . . and I’m not just saying that because you featured Dickens so prominently. 😀
I, too, love the words he selected to embark upon A Tale of Two Cities. What a treat to read.
I just love it, the best of times, the worst of times: Dickens plays us all like a violin…
Indeed, I don’t feel I understand even half of the media news coming out of the UK at the moment. The tabloid thing is foreign to me, as there’s no such culture in New Zealand. That’s not to say the NZ broadsheet press isn’t becoming too ‘tabloid’ for my liking, but with a resident population of four million people, down there we have a degree of separation of… oh… about two from anyone else, including famous people (‘famous in NZ’ may be a slight oxymoron), but in any case we tend to leave our celebrities alone. I was amazed to visit London and see all the celebrity headlines, and I still can’t work out why people would want to pay money for such newspapers.
Dickens, too, remains a hole in my reading! Where should I start, do you think?
I’m torn about Dickens, Lynley: I love his writing, but some of his grotesque caricatures do not appeal. As a way in, A Christmas Carol is just amazing: his style is at its very best here, and the ghostliness frames that characterisation well. I started with Great Expectations: all his works, without a shadow of doubt, are total masterpieces. This man is one of the greatest storytellers of all time: as Thackeray’s daughter seems to think, too…
Since I began blogging I am astonished how much talent is out there and will never get published or read. It is one of life’s great injustices.
Never say never, Carl 😀 Who knows where one of our cyber friends may turn up next?
You might find this commentary on the unfolding media saga interesting, Kate
http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/rupert-murdoch-not-totally-to-blame-20110714-1hei6.html
BB, fantastic article, thanks! He’s right – the media have not even skimmed the surface of the story. The Press Complaints Commission is a toothless lion – rubbish – and the tabloids – not so much the broadsheets, and here there is a very clear distinction, both in tone and readership – have overstepped the mark many times with only a slap on the wrist as a consequence. The sad thing is that like the press or hate them, they are a check on the powers that be: ask Woodward and Bernstein – and now very soon, the law will clamp down on its freedom.
What a refreshing angle as the world breathlessly watches the unfolding media drama! Reading Dickens influenced me greatly as a teenager and I credit him with playing a large role in awakening my social conscience.
He was so wrapped up in social justice, wasn’t he? Interestingly, although All The Year Round was aimed at the working classes, the Wiki entry claims its readership was still steadfastly middle class. Not sure of it’s true: but our paper readership today would indicate that our working classes prefer the tabloids’ short pithy posts of 200-300 words, nit the long screeds written by the broadsheets.
Well put, Kate, and, as always, an enjoyable post to read. I think Mr. Murdoch’s troubles may be traveling to this side of the pond. The best of times and the worst of times. Are those not amongst the most famous opening lines of any literature still? I wonder what stories our children will tell of the times they grew up in.
Only time will tell: I’ll but Kezzie’s first novel to find out in about 20 years 🙂
Another excellent post, Kate. A refreshing read. And interesting.
Thanks Earlybird 🙂 Still really enjoying the river of stones…
I awake, get online and there for my pleasure is a Kate-post.
It is so easy to villify journos, they are out in the front line every day.
They provide what the public devour. If there was no taste in the public for something it would cease to be provided. In this case I’m never too sure of the chicken or egg, more of an evolution. I wonder where the dinosaur became the chicken?
It is a puzzlement….but one thing I do know: without our local press we would never have been able to hold our Diocese to account for trying to knock down our church. They are an important check on the powers that be.
So many of my favourite writers in this delightful post.
It was a rather wonderful time. While I was researching the writers in The Brotherhood of Punch I came across a plethora of names which deserve further investigation: John Leech, Richard Doyle, John Tenniel, Charles Keene, Harry Furniss, Linley Sambourne, Francis Carruthers Gould, and Phil May. Can’t wait to start digging.
I thought ATO2C was dreadful, and didn’t finish it. Coincidentally, I posted a poem about that very book on my poetry blog just the other day, if you’re interested: http://imnotaverse.wordpress.com/2011/07/13/two-unpleasant-things/
‘Dombey & Son’ is my favourite Dickens; I’ve never cried so much over the death of a fictional character before.
It seems that journalists, like lawyers and politicians, come in two distinct categories: the sincere, trying to make a difference in the world, and the self-serving evil. It is the nature of our media that people can be only one or the other; no one is allowed to be decent and make a mistake; all motives are suspect.
I tend not to believe everything I read and hear, but there’s always some truth; the Milly Dowler hacking is about as low as a person can get. It really is time to clean house.
Ah, it’s just like the Galctic Empire, Tilly: the dark and light side of the force. We need the journos for checks and balances, but some quarters can be despicable. Dark and light, good and Evil; Woodward and Bernstein and News International.
Fascinating, indeed. So even back then, after having a dickens of a time with publishers and editors and their ilk, one was attracted to the self-publishing option!
Those opening lines are so powerful. How one envies the ability to kick off with something like that, or the ‘There is a road …’ from ‘Cry the Beloved Country’. Another classic beginning I have always admired is ‘Of the people who live lonely lives … few do so of their own free choice.’ Recognise it?
I don’t …. what a stirring opening. Where’s it from?
The missing chunk is ‘… on the veld or elsewhere, …’ which should give it away.
Me and Phil are all over this one but we’re not there yet…we don’t give up though….
Terrific post, Kate – I have a few worries about the printed press – and for some reason or other, the British tabloid press seems to take more knocks than the American versions, even though they are just as bad. It’s a shame because there are so many writers out there of quality and integrity that should be flooding the internet and the print medium, but are not, because there are too many writers like myself who muddy up the waters – giving people far too many choices, which is the subject of a wonderful TED lecture called “The Paradox of Choice.” Look it up, because it is really excellent!
By the way, is “Write for your life” the same as “Publish or perish?” 😀
It all depends if publishing makes you any money, Paula! Thackeray coined it and he used writing to keep the wolf from the door. He couldn’t have done it without his publishers…
Brilliant perspective on writing – thank you, Kate 🙂 Between “Write for your life” and “Publish or perish”, it’s all quite daunting!
I know what you mean….just the word ‘publish’ can make me come out in spots….