In all seriousness

A few months ago, I recommended an episode of the New York Times Popcast on Taylor Swift. They actually released three back-to-back Taylor episodes—a first reaction to The Tortured Poets Department, a mailbag of fan questions, and a one-week post-release recap. It should come as no surprise to anyone that when Popcast released a new episode last week offering the hosts’ definitive rankings of all eleven Taylor Swift albums, I immediately listened.

I am not here to talk about Taylor Swift (again), but I am here to talk about the quantity of Taylor Swift conversations—and Sabrina Carpenter, Charli XCX, and Chappell Roan conversations.

The hosts of Popcast are willing to discuss what they hate about the new J Lo album and Chappell Roan’s and Sabrina Carpenter’s meteoric rises. Do they discuss critical darling albums? Of course—there was a whole episode on Vampire Weekend’s Only God Was Above Us. But then they go back to talking about why Dua Lipa’s album didn’t get more traction. In contrast, book criticism seems to pretend the ultra-popular does not exist. I’m interested in music journalism’s willingness to take seriously popular work favored by young women; I struggle to imagine the New York Times Book Review podcast making a two-hour episode ranking the oeuvre of Colleen Hoover.

By treating the popular as if it’s unworthy of discussion, we’re limiting the depth and breadth of conversations we can have about books. I want to talk about what cultural forces conspired to get everyone reading about sexy fairies. I want to talk about Colleen Hoover’s genre-defying pivots. And I don’t want to talk about them once. I want to talk about them over and over again, the way we talk about Taylor Swift and Kendrick and Billie Eilish, because that’s the cultural space these books occupy.

Case in point: I would like to hear a room of experienced book critics discuss Fourth Wing for two hours. Tear it apart. Pay it a compliment. I don’t care—but don’t ignore the fact that it exists and half the people I know have read it.

The New York Times did run a Fourth Wing article, sort of. It’s a profile of the author, Rebecca Yarros, and her rapid rise to fame. But what the article declines to do is engage with the book itself. It does not offer a value judgment, presumably because that value judgment would be negative. And while I’m not out here saying we should bash more books, I’m inclined to think a dissatisfied review of Fourth Wing would be better than what we have now, which is trying to talk about Fourth Wing (and Sarah J. Maas, and Colleen Hoover, and the rest of the sexy side of the bestseller list) as little as possible.

I was so struck, when reading Fourth Wing, that its moral message seemed to be one of American interventionism—a parable that might reflect Yarros’s time associated with the military (her husband was deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan). At its heart, it’s a book about the strong (and well-equipped with weapons) sticking up for the downtrodden—and the internal arguments in this “strong” camp about whether intervention is appropriate. Which is kind of familiar! But no one’s really talking about the book this way. While I’m sure Fourth Wing’s readers have thoughts on theme and message, there’s not an obvious outlet for these discussions. People are reading the book, but the places we turn for nuanced conversation on books are steadfastly not talking about bestsellers.

Avoiding the popular is a profoundly patronizing way of moving through the world. The caveat to this, though, is that if we want more people to engage with the popular, more people are going to critique the popular. Would that be so bad? We could all get a little better at accepting that someone isn’t morally bankrupt for disliking something we love. The Popcast hosts, as it turns out, really hate Midnights, which is one of my favorite Taylor Swift albums (sue me). They don’t think it’s her smartest work—but I love that they’re willing to have a smart conversation about it, anyway.

My aunt recently called dense, plodding books “vegetable books.” I have loved many a vegetable book in my day. I have loved many books also loved by the New York Times Book Review. I just don’t understand why the way we talk about books is still so bifurcated into the “meritorious” and the “popular.” Both shape culture. Both have things to say about who we are and where we’re headed. Why not lean in and have a little fun with it?

Currently reading: Just started Long Island Compromise by Taffy Brodesser-Akner. Her piece on Gwyneth Paltrow will remain one of the all-time celebrity profiles IMO.

Non-urgent thought of the week: Some friends send “this is so you” memes; some friends send “this is so me” memes.

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