First, a disclaimer to any self-important readers expecting a fiery takedown of the celebrity book club format: as someone who wants to see more books in the hands of readers, I am wholeheartedly in support of famous people using their immense influence and privilege to promote books instead of the many other products they could be paid handsomely to endorse. An article built on cynicism for something so overwhelmingly positive would be disingenuous click-bait, and you will not find that here.
But just because these book clubs are a net positive doesn’t mean they’re above investigation or critique. Ever since their rise in the late 2010s, the biggest celebrity book clubs have held immense influence over which books land on the bestsellers lists, and their future has an outsized impact on the commercial publishing industry. In order to better understand how these groups operate, I spoke to the teams behind the scenes, as well as with other publishing industry insiders.
Perhaps this is why in both science and in writing, there is no such thing as useless knowledge. Knowledge gained simply as a function of curiosity seems to have an inherent funky viewing angle. Scientists-in-training are often encouraged to attend seminars in other departments, because maybe a molecular biologist at a mechanical engineering talk will pick up an odd snippet of information or a way of thinking that sparks a new idea. Writers of fiction, too, cannot predict when learning some very specific, random fact might come in handy in a story—the oily flammability of birch bark, the difference between contact calls and alarm calls of songbirds, the behavior of tin buttons in cold temperatures, the vagaries of usefulness.
The Material, Bordas’s second novel to be written in English (the first two were in her native French), slams together this constantly revolving cast of characters for 18 continuous, frantic December hours. Moving from edgy faculty meeting to eviscerating workshop to “active shooter on campus” lockdown (it turns out to be a prank call) to, finally, a comedy battle against a rival Chicago improv group, almost every interaction along the way is examined for its potential as “material”.
What Pooley does best is create a club full of likable, fun-loving characters — Truth or Dare Jenga, anyone? — who are easy to root for. Just the kind of club many readers would be happy to join.