Write on track

The internet and the visual media have not stifled the public's appetite for books, as the growth in literary festivals shows. If anything, they've fuelled interest, as Al Senter discovers

Britain is mad about book festivals. In marquees, town halls and art galleries, in what appears to be every city, town, village and hamlet from Land's End to John o' Groats, writers are not only meeting their readers—they are meeting them in droves.

There are now around 250 book or literary festivals a year in the UK, and attendance figures are soaring across the board. The Edinburgh International Book Festival, one of the three biggest, now draws close to 220,000 visitors every August to its self-contained site in the gardens of Charlotte Square. The Cheltenham Literary Festival—staged in various venues, including the town hall, the Everyman Theatre and the Centaur Arena at the famous racecourse—reports a similar surge in numbers over its 10-day gathering in early October. And Hay still reliably draws the movers and shakers from the literary world and beyond each May to the sometimes muddy fields on the banks of the River Wye.

While it's inevitably the big-name authors-PD James, Antonia Fraser, John Banville, Doris Lessing—who pull in the biggest crowds, even the more esoteric "spots" sell out. Subjects such as 19th century Russian philosophers and the German experience of the First World War provoke lively and impassioned debate. And the arguments continue afterwards when the public queue to have their books signed and to enjoy a one-to-one with authors.

At a time when use of electronic media is growing and when everyone from local education authorities to broadcasters stands accused of dumbing down, it seems a curious phenomenon. But many believe that the very things that were supposed to sound the death knell for reading are giving it new life.

"It's fascinating to see that books—which in a digital age are supposed to be on their way out—and book festivals, apparently old-fashioned concepts where ideas are exchanged and story-telling is celebrated, are proving to be so popular," says Catherine Lockerbie, director of the Edinburgh International Book Festival.

"What we see are people fed up with the pre-digested supply of media soundbites. I interpret the growth in book festivals as a reflection of the public hunger for more depth," she adds. "And in an electronic age, in a more dislocated age, people are more eager than ever to get together, to exchange ideas."

Sarah Smyth, director of the Cheltenham Literary Festival, adds: "Tony Benn argues that the public meeting is dead, particularly because the media ignores them. But because literature festivals are reported in the newspapers, they have now taken on the function once performed by public meetings."

Craig Sharp, a devotee of Edinburgh (where he reckons that he will attend some 45 events this year) would probably agree. A retired academic, he has no doubts about the appeal of literary festivals. "I like having the chance to sit down for an hour to hear an author talk and then be intelligently and entertainingly interviewed before being questioned by an audience. For most people outside the academic world, this is a unique experience. TV interviewers simply cannot compare. Book festivals take us back to an age when conversation was much more valued, when people seemed to have time to pursue it, and when you could listen to a real use of words by very articulate people."

But it would be a mistake to see literary festivals only in such high-minded terms. Organisers are keen to produce a commercial event; and they make sure they balance unknown literary geniuses with established crowd-pleasers. On a rainy afternoon at Edinburgh 2004, you could spot, within a few feet of each other, Alan Hollinghurst nervously preparing to talk about his Man Booker prizewinner The Line of Beauty; PR queen Lynne Franks, ear clamped to her mobile phone; and Respect MP and controversialist George Galloway, charming a female interviewer. It's the kind of cocktail of personalities that book festivals regularly offer.

And if the readers lap it all up, so do the writers. "London is a huge sprawl, with all these writers living in isolation," says Douglas Kennedy, author of the forthcoming The Woman in the Fifth. "At book festivals, you can catch up with each other, talk shop and end up on panels with writers you admire, but whom you've never met before."

For travel writer John Gimlette, whose Panther Soup: Travels Through The End of the War is published later this year, it's a matter of being able to see who his readers are. "I love talking about my writing," he says. "It's a bit of showing off, of course, and it's nice to get some feedback. Although I am dreading the day when some Paraguayan nationalist staggers out of the crowd and complains about what I wrote in At The Tomb of the Inflatable Pig."

The book festival as a promotional tool is, also, not to be underestimated. "Even if only a handful of people turn up for your event, they'll talk about it and, who knows? When they next go into a bookshop and see your name, they might just buy one of your books," says DJ Taylor, novelist, critic and biographer.

It's not all pleasure, though. Even an enthusiast like Taylor has had his low moments. "It can get very dispiriting. I remember sitting in the tent at Cheltenham, watching this serpentine queue forming around Frank McCourt and desperately praying for someone to come and buy one of my books."

So how do the festivals compare with each other? "Hay is a bit like the Field of the Cloth of Gold when Henry VIII [spectacularly] met the King of France," says Gimlette. "Guildford is more intimate and, unlike Hay, doesn't grind to a halt when the festival's in town."

Taylor says: "I enjoy the Way With Words at Dartington, and now there's also a Way With Words at Southwold. You get a sense of the real local community at Southwold. It's a small, homely festival without the atmosphere of celebritification that you can sometimes feel at Hay."

Kennedy adds: "Hay is essentially in a rural setting and its raison d'etre is books and the book festival. Edinburgh is part of the nine-ring circus that is the Edinburgh Festival, whereas Cheltenham is very dignified and discreet."

Not surprisingly, Christine Chambers, chair of the Friends of the Cheltenham Literary Festival, is a keen advocate of her local festival. "Hay does seem a long way away," she says. "You feel as if you're driving down endless country lanes and that you're never going to arrive. In Edinburgh, I feel slightly corralled in Charlotte Square, surrounded by traffic. But in Cheltenham the town hall is brilliant for creating the buzz, and if you have to go from there to the Everyman Theatre, it's simply a stroll through the autumn sunshine and down the promenade."

As well as their literary aims, book festivals offer other, more tangible, benefits. "These festivals, in common with the arts in general, can act as an economic driver, causing a renaissance in a town's fortunes," explains John Clarke, the director of the [Yorkshire-based] Beverley Festival, which has been held since 2002. "The arts are relatively cheap to do, you don't have to maintain a venue and they can generate a lot of publicity."

As the big three battle it out (unofficially) for the best festival title, they look set for even greater competition as more towns discover the economic and social benefits of holding an event.

Leading literary festivals in 2007

The Word Festival, Aberdeen, May 11 to May 13,     www.abdn.ac.uk/word

The Guardian Hay Festival, May 24 to June 3
www.hayfestival.com

Ways With  Words, Dartington, July 6 to July 16
www.wayswithwords.co.uk

The Edinburgh International Book Festival, August 11 to August 27
www.edbookfest.co.uk

The Times Cheltenham Literary Festival, October 5 to October 14 www.cheltenhamfestivals.com

Guildford Book Festival, October 14 to October 27
www.guildfordbookfestival.co.uk/

For a full list of the literary festivals in the UK,
visit www.britishcouncil.org/arts-literature-literary-festivals.htm