The Royal Society of Literature’s Year(s) of Ruin

Hello Gentle Reader,

For some time now the Royal Society of Literature has been embroiled internal conflict and controversy. The accusations leveraged against the Royal Society of Literature by its own members, emeritus presidents, and colleagues, have been nothing short of damning. While the iconoclastic leadership of the now outgoing Chair of Council, Daljit Nagra and Director, Molly Rosenberg, are alleged to have fueled a ‘cultural civil war,’ within the society, which has raised concerns about the competing interests of diversity and inclusivity, and the administrations facilitating in restricting, muting, and censoring freedom of speech, in addition to lacking a robust defense and champion of it. The current president of the society, Bernardine Evaristo, has so far made no inclination of her own resignation, or even its being considered at this time.

The entire fiasco has reportedly been simmering for a few years now, but came to a head last February, when the Royal Society of Literature referred itself to the Charity Commission when the publication of its annual magazine “Review,” was postponed and the editor, Maggie Fergusson, dismissed without ceremony. Writers and fellows which includes Ian McEwan, the late Fleur Adcock, Kazuo Ishiguro, and Margaret Atwood expressed concerns over the societies lacking endorsement of freedom of speech, when it was understood that the publication was being withheld due to an article providing commentary on Israel’s actions in the Middle East; while Allan Hollinghurst and Ian McEwan wrote to the society demanding that it refer to itself to the Charity Commission over the accusations of censorship which contravene the fundamental literary values.

Further charges leveraged against the Royal Society of Literature is its loosening criteria for members to be elected, with many current members, past presidents, former chairs and directors, expressing concern over what could be considered a push and expedited drive to full fill diversity quotas and mission statements, at the expense of literary merit, all the while in the process undermines the core principles of the Royal Society of Literature which was founded in 1820 on the grounds to: “reward literary merit and excite literary talent.” In 2020, however, after the catalyst events which led to the monumental racial protests and subsequent social protests around the Western world, Molly Rosenberg sought to introduce efforts to increase writings from ethnic, racial, social and economic backgrounds which were previously without ‘representation,’ within the society. By 2022 with the announcement of the appointment of Bernardine Evaristo as the incoming president of the society, this mandate took precedence, as Evaristo introduced her presidency on well meaning, but perhaps doomed to failed principles as per their ideological backage:

“Literature is not a luxury, but essential to our civilisation. I am so proud, therefore, to be the figurehead of such an august and robust literature organisation that is so actively and urgently committed to being inclusive of the widest range of outstanding writers from every demographic and geographical location in Britain, and to reaching marginalised communities through literature projects, including introducing young people in schools to some of Britain's leading writers who visit, teach and discuss their work with them.”

Since then, there has been significant concerns raised about how literature is no longer considered the essential concern of the society, as more members were inducted on grounds of tokenism. As former president Marina Warner remarked that a fellowship “used to mark an acclaimed career.” In other words, to be elected as a member of the Royal Society of Literature was considered an honour to acknowledge a writer’s career. Not a participation ribbon. Furthermore, the institution only nominated fellows internally, it completely neglected and avoided the populist angle. Yet the brainchild of Rosenberg and further amplified by Evaristo, fellowships are now open for the public to recommend writers for fellowship, which will then assessed and whittled down by an internal panel. Novelist Amanda Craig said it best, while the Royal Society of Literature may have been at one point “a bit too plate, stale and male,” the expedited efforts have besmirched the societies reputation as Craig continues “no longer the kind of distinction that it was.” While Don Paterson is right to point out, under the current system all a writer or poet needs to do is publish a “a single poetry pamphlet,” or the bare minimum to be considered. Regardless, Bernardine Evaristo in hubris and in good intentions persists, defending the current practices for nomination and induction: “Even today, only 4% of the fellowship is under 40, while more than 55% of it is over 65 – and more than 34% is over 75. Sidelined? Clearly not.”

Further accusations of facilitating populist oriented censorship in the method of social media weaponization and cancellation included a lacking support for the controversial writer Kate Clanchy and her memoir “Some Kids I Taught and What They Taught Me.” While the memoir would go on to receive the Orwell Prize, issues were raised regarding the use of uncouth and or offensive language to describe some of the children, which ultimately led her and her publisher to part ways. Philip Pullman ever a spirited classical liberal resigned from the Society of Authors, for his adamant defense. The Royal Society of Literature was criticized for its tone-deaf response or lack thereof, for what could only be called a modernized version of witch hunt and kangaroo court proceedings, which resulted the intensity of public to demand censorship when it offends their sensibilities. Ironically, at the time of these proceedings Clanchy was a fellow of the society. She subsequently resigned her fellowship when in 2023 when her most prominent public social justice prosecutor Sunny Singh was elected to the same institution.

It wasn’t just Kate Clanchy that the society failed. After the attempted assassination of Salman Rushdie in 2022, the Royal Society of Literature was not only slow to acknowledge the attack but proved to be apprehensive to condemn and offer consolation and support to Salman Rushdie to avoid taking sides on the event or alienating anyone. Evaristo maintained that the Royal Literature Society needed to remain “impartial.” Thankfully Rushdie (a fellow) took to social media to ask if the “Royal Society of Literature is ‘impartial’ about attempted murder?” Only then did Evaristo become more adamant as president that the society continued to support Salman Rushdie as it did before during the initial fatwa and continued to.

There are further administrative issues within the society itself. Allegations of secrecy and weaponization of management to silence any dissidence from the board or trustees. While the public may not be completely aware of what is going on within the societies innerworkings, it has become clear that the organization was imbalanced with an internal culture of unchecked prerogative and executive centralization, which ultimately saw the decay of governance and the alienation of members from society staff and its board. Outgoing Chair of Council, Daljit Nagra is set to table the findings of the governance audit at the next annual general meeting on January 15, which comes at the same time as is effective resignation, while Molly Rosenberg is expected to hang on to her role into the end of March.

Regardless, it appears that the Royal Society of Literature has its work cut out for it. Years of iconoclastic administration and an ideological fervor has ransacked and bankrupt the society and its credibility. With a change in administrative leadership perhaps the society will reel in its well meaning but overly ambitious efforts to incorporate a more ‘inclusive,’ outreach program when it cheapens and diminishes the society, when acclaimed and hard-won careers are abandoned in favour of ill-suited metrics that have no interest in literary merit. Hopefully, the Royal Society of Literature will be able to turn the page and realign its principles and priorities once again in favour of literature and acknowledging great and worthy writers.

Thank-you for Reading Gentle Reader
Take Care
And As Always
Stay Well Read

M. Mary

For Further Reading 

Daily Mail: "Royal Society of Literature in chaos as it loses chairman and director amid accusations it lowered standards to have a 'more diverse' membership and failed to support Salman Rushdie after near-fatal stabbing"

The New Statesman: "Inside the Royal Society of Literature’s civil war"

The Spectator: "The demise of the Royal Society of Literature"

The Spectator: "Royal Society of Literature in meltdown over diversity drive"

The Guardian: "Royal Society of Literature rocked by departures of director and chair"

UnHerd: "Is the Royal Society of Literature a lost cause?"

The Nobel Prize in Literature Nominations 1974

Hello Gentle Reader,

There can be no denying that the Nobel Prize in Literature for 1974 was exceptional in the prize’s history for the controversy and outrage it induced and continues to reverberate within the prize’s contemporary history. The 1974 award is routinely unearthed and dusted off by critics and readers alike, to be banded and wielded against the Nobel Prize in Literature and the Swedish Academy with unrestrained fervor. Especially to knock the prize and the academy down a peg, reminding everyone that the Nobel Prize, despite its ceremony and ritual, is just a common literary prize, complete with its own self-assured arrogance that it is the measure and the authority of what qualifies as great and enduring literature. Afterall, in 1974 the Swedish Academy decided to award and share the Nobel Prize in Literature between two of its own members:

Eyvind Johnson (Chair No. 11):

            “for a narrative art, farseeing in lands and ages, in the service of freedom.”

Harry Martinson (Chair No. 15):

            “for writings that catch the dewdrop and reflect the cosmos.”

Now this is not the first time, the Swedish Academy awarded one of its own with the Nobel Prize in Literature. In 1951 the Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded to the Swedish Academy member and moralist Pär Lagerkvist (Chair No. 8), which passed without much mention or controversy. This same courtesy was not applied to either Eyvind Johnson or Harry Martinson. It is slightly ironic, however, that Pär Lagerkvist was one of the serial nominators for both authors to receive the Nobel Prize, both on individual grounds and jointly. 1974 was not the first time that the both writers who considered contenders for the prize. Support for Eyvind Johnson receiving the prize were beginning to intensify by the early 1970’s. Johnson was a member of the Swedish Academy’s Nobel Committee and routinely declined or dismissed to be taken into consideration before stepping down from the Nobel Committee in 1972, which inevitably made his nomination for laureate more tenable. A general consensus emerges whereby Eyvind Johnson is considered by the majority of the Swedish Academy to be the preferential Nobel Laureate, be it by their own literary taste or because of he was the superior craftsman; whereas Harry Martinson is described as being almost conciliatory in measure, to temper and even out the support for Eyvind Johnson.

For literary output, Eyvind Johnson is often described as a proletarian writer. A categorization which sits on the authors with uncomfortable and awkward results. While there are moral, social, and political issues detailed and written about in Johnson’s bibliography, there is no heightened moral pedigree granted to proletarian causes or endorsement of any collectivist ideas, thought processes, philosophies, or ideologies. In fact, Eyvind Johnson was a writer of a strong individualistic bent, who despised the Stalin’s Soviet brand of communism as well as the scorched earth policies and rhetoric of fascism and Nazism which devasted Europe. If, Eyvind Johnson is to be described as proletarian in any capacity it was due to his sociopolitical background more so than his literary output. The “Krilon,” trilogy “Group Krilon,” “Krilon’s journey,” and “Krilon himself,” are often described as Johnson’s masterpiece(s) for their historical acuity and allegorical criticism of the horrors of Hitler’s Nazis and Swedish Neutrality during the Second World War. Prior the publication of “Krilon,” Eyvind Johnson wrote realistic short stories and a series of autobiographical novels.

Harry Martinson is first renowned as poet, who introduced Asiatic literary modes and thought to Swedish Literature. Martinson’s early life was reflected in many of his work. His unloving and harsh childhood gave rise to his life as a vagrant and later seaman. Harry Martinson was a rejuvenating force of modernism in Swedish Literature, debuting with fellow Swedish Academy member Artur Lundkvist in a poetry anthology. Martinson’s poetry was renowned for the use of complex and original metaphors, in addition to an acute eye for nature and detailed observations. The same preoccupation for the natural world reappeared frequently in Harry Martinson’s prose work, as well as memories of his maritime years and life as a vagabond. The epic poem “Aniara,” which recounts the tragedy of a passenger spacecraft fleeing nuclear disaster of earth and seeking salvation on mars only drift off course amongst the stars and into the void.

In previous deliberations and consideration of the two writers for the Nobel Prize in Literature, Erik Lindegren commented: “They are really the opposite of everything provincial.” Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson remain highly regarded as some of the most exceptional writers of their generations, and generational defining modernists of Swedish literature. Still, the literary production of both Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson remains meager in abroad and in translation. Biographers and historians take careful consideration to both of the writers working class and harsh social backgrounds, highlighting their literary achievements and introducing the supposed ‘proletariat,’ background into their literary productions, which only proves the immense social progresses taken throughout the 20^th century, creating what is often viewed as the social democratic utopias of the world today. Even in the award ceremony speech, Permanent Secretary Karl Ragnar Gierow noted the two authors shared a proletarian background, which in its gradual societal eradication was a testament to social welfare, and in turn their backgrounds and perspectives did not plunder the literary landscape, but instead enriched it.

1974 was a peculiar year for deliberations. Three members of the Swedish Academy had died leaving their seats vacant and both Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson abstained form the prizes deliberations as they were in contention. The Nobel Committee proposed the following options for the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1974:

Splitting the award between Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson.

Sharing the award between Nadine Gordimer and Doris Lessing. Nadine Gordimer would later receive the award in 1991 and Doris Lessing in 2007.

Award Saul Bellow singularly, or split the award further with Norman Mailer. Saul Bellow would receive the award in 1976.

Award Eugenio Montale the award solely. Eugenio Montale would receive the award next year in 1975.

Overall, the Swedish Academy was in complete agreeance to split the prize between the two writers. Anders Österling is on record stating that the decision was unanimous. However, Artur Lundkvist who had previously raised concerns about awarding academy members the prize, opposed the notion of splitting the award between Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson, advocating instead to split the award between Nadine Gordimer and Doris Lessing. Artur Lundkvist remained the sole objector to the award and when it was put to a vote the decision was finalized the 1974 Nobel Prize in Literature would be split between Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson, and would later go down as being remembered as “the award that ruined everything.”

Artur Lundkvist is said to have encouraged both Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson to not accepting the award, with concern that the award would only bring the two authors misery. Fellow academy member Lars Gyllensten disagreed with Lundkvist’s rationale to exclude both members from receiving the award, first on technical grounds, nominations for both Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson came from outside of the Swedish Academy. Therefore, it is reasonable to conclude that the Swedish Academy was not merely self-congratulatory in its decision and chocking on the excess of its own sense of self-importance. Second, Gyllensten argued that if the Swedish Academy is to deny its own members from being taken into consideration for the prize, then they would only be degrading themselves with self-flagellation by inviting second rate writers to join the academy. Regardless, the 1974 Nobel Prize in Literature caused a storm at home for the Swedish Academy and instituted its first existential crisis.

Sven Delblanc writing in Expressen described the award as: “A disastrous decision,” and further raged that any to all credibility the Nobel Prize in Literature had “would be wiped out with mockery, rolling around the world.” Delblanc further his charges against the Swedish Academy for falling to the mire of corruption with the decision, going so far as to describe the award to two academy members as tantamount to embezzlement. Sven-Eric Liedman described writers as “passé,” in Göteborgs-Tidningen. The rest of the Swedish cultural and literary world concluded and agreed with the critics. The Swedish Academy didn’t just get it wrong, they openly pandered to what could easily been considered nationalistic concerns and provincial grubbing. Despite their renowned in Sweden, neither Eyvind Johnson or Harry Martinson found any international appeal. The popular Swedish poet Karl Vennberg, however, remained one of the few dissenting voices who favoured the award especially in the case of Harry Martinson. Sources accused the Swedish Academy of deliberately choosing writers of meager international appeal and renowned in order to not upstage the Soviet dissident writer Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn who would finally travel to Stockholm to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature, which he was originally awarded in 1970. Overall, the international press paid no mind to the award; only reviving it later to inject cynicism into the academy and the prizes decisions.

As for Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson, their press conference regarding the decision was noted for being muted even dour in tone, with both writers expressing a mixed bag of appreciation for the decision. Harry Martinson attempted to clarify and confirm that the occasion was happy, but ceded that that the criticism had certainly soured the festivities. Eyvind Johnson added: “There can never be just one author who is the world's best.” Both writers also agreed that the lacking translation abroad have seriously impacted their work being available in English. Harry Martinson described the English translation of his poem “Aniara,” as being scandalously poor. While Eyvind Johnson’s acclaimed autobiographical series of novels under the title: “The Novel About Olav,” have never been translated into English. Their lack of international presence remains a continued barrier against both writers. Both writers died only a few years after winning the Nobel Prize in Literature. Harry Martinson was particularly affected by the harsh criticism and committed suicide four years later. Artur Lundkvist speculated that the award expedited both of the writer’s death.

Unfortunately—or perhaps unsurprisingly—there was no debate about awarding two members of the Swedish Academy the Nobel Prize in Literature. In fact, the decision to engage in what is perhaps aptly described as “corruption via camaraderie,” was decided on without controversy or debate. Only one member dissented to the decision, concerned over the optics, while the thirteen other members completely carried on as if it was a normal selection and normal process. Its true the previous year set up some foreshadowing of the deliberations ahead regarding the award to another Swedish writer, as the then Permanent Secretary Karl Ragnar Gierow opened up the discussion, singling out: Eyvind Johnson, Harry Martinson and Vilhelm Moberg, as the greatest Swedish writers currently writing. Vilhelm Moberg sadly died in August of 1973. Regardless of the deliberations or lack thereof, the decision remains scandalously and blight inducing half a century later.

In 1974 the Nobel Committee for the Nobel Prize in Literature received a total of 101 nominated writers. 22 of these writers were new nominees. 9 women were nominated for the prize this year as well, which at the time was the highest record. These 9 women included both future Nobel Laureates: Nadine Gordimer (1991) and Doris Lessing (2007). Astrid Lindgren was also nominated, alongside Marie Under, Louise Weiss, and Victoria Ocampo. Fellow future Nobel Laureates who were nominated included: Eugenio Montale (1975), Saul Bellow (1976), Vicente Aleixandre (1977), Isaac Bashevis Singer (1978), Odysseas Elytis (1979), Czeslaw Milosz (1980), Elias Canetti (1981), William Golding (1983), Jaroslav Seifert (1984), Claude Simon (1985), Camilo Jose Cela (1989), Octavio Paz (1990), Ōe Kenzaburō (1994), Günter Grass (1999), V.S. Naipul (2001), and Harold Pinter (2005). Other notable writers who were nominated in 1974 were Francis Ponge, Stephen Spender, R. K. Narayan, and Elie Wiesel who would later receive the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986. The speculated favourites to win in 1974 were: Graham Greene, Jorge Luis Borges, Vladimir Nabokov, and Saul Bellow. Considering none of them (with the exception of Saul Bellow) considered

It is interesting to see Doris Lessing seriously considered the prize in the 1970’s, sadly when Lessing began to publish more science fiction oriented novels in 1979 and into the 1980’s, the Swedish Academy had grown more sour on her output, viewing it as a considerable decline from her previous socially explorative novels such as “The Grass is Singing,” “The Summer Before the Dark,” and interior explorative novels “The Golden Notebook,” “Briefing for a Descent into Hell.” It wasn’t until the 1990’s with the publication of her autobiographies did Doris Lessing find her ‘second wind,’ and was once again re-evaluated by the Swedish Academy. Even Doris Lessing is on record to have given no thought to the Nobel Prize in Literature. According to the late Lessing, she once encountered a member of the Swedish Academy who informed her that they don’t really like her work and so the decision was all sewn up.

In the end the Nobel Prize in Literature for 1974 was less successful than the Swedish Academy had hoped. It would be another 37 years before another Swedish writer would receive the award, with Tomas Tranströmer receiving the award in 2011. Comparably, Tomas Tranströmer has a more lasting impact and reputation internationally then both Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson, and the decision was not met with controversy at all. Still the scandal and bitter burn from the 1974 award dodged and perhaps hindered Tranströmer from receiving the award earlier. When discussing the 2011 Nobel Prize in Literature, the then Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy Peter Englund, also made a point of confirming with the press that it has been almost forty years since a Swedish writer had received the award. This inevitably means that the Swedish Academy has taken a very cautious steps when evaluating and discussing any Swedish writer for the award. Lesson was certainly learned. Unfortunately, the archives do not provide much insight into the deliberations in the discussions for the award. We are not granted a full contextual understanding of how the Swedish Academy came to their very misguided conclusion, but reviewing old articles certainly provides enough context to understand that the decision went over like a lead balloon.

 

Thank you For Reading Gentle Reader
Take Care
And As Always
Stay Well Read
 
M. Mary