"Romancing the Genre"

We know what we like. That's true of every reader (and writer). Some prefer historical fiction, others westerns or humour. If we didn't know what we liked, how would we know which section of the book store to visit, or which library shelves to peruse?

But there are pitfalls in letting our assumptions rule us rather than the other way around. Take, for instance, "capital-L" Literature. This is a genre just like any other, with its dedicated readers, authors and critics, and it is marketed using similar methods. Alongside the usual "Horror" and "Children's" signs, the Book Place even has a category called "Quality Fiction" to distinguish the books it places in that category from other works. Where the line is drawn is not made clear, but you would be unlikely to see books by crime, science fiction or romance writers there.

Or would you? Such works as Iain Pears' An Instance of the Fingerpost, Peter Goldsworthy's Honk If You are Jesus and Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being are prime candidates for the label "Quality Fiction", being highly literate and marketed as such. Yet they can also be regarded as genre novels, specifically: period murder mystery, science fiction and romance.

But if that's the case, why isn't An Instance of the Fingerpost marketed alongside Sue Grafton's O is for Outlaw? The answer is simple: genre fiction is dismissed by many as poorly written and formulaic. To tar a literate novel with such a brush might be demeaning and repel its target audience.

There's no denying that genre fiction is sometimes poorly written. But as with any other abstract definition, the blurry edges we encounter in reality can make for unfair categorisations.

Comparing Peter Goldsworthy's Honk if You Are Jesus to Robert Rankin's The Brentford Chainstore Massacre is a revealing exercise. While both books deal with cloning Jesus from the Turin Shroud, one is written by a major mainstream Australian author and the other by a cult writer from the UK. Honk if you are Jesus is, as expected, marketed as Literature. But if you apply academic definitions to these two books, you get a surprise: the Goldsworthy is science fiction, not the Rankin, since it deals with real science not science fantasy.

If Honk had been marketed as science fiction, would the people who bought and enjoyed it have done so? Or would it have been relegated with the Rankin to the genre (non-"Quality") shelves, to delight a completely different market?

Discrimination works both ways. James Bradley's Deep Field and Bruce Stirling's Holy Fire are two highly literate books that deal with issues of life extension, identity and memory. One is marketed as science fiction, the other as literature. Not only will few Literature readers read the Stirling book, but few SF readers will encounter Bradley's; they might not even be aware of its speculative content, since it has not been marketed to them.

James Bradley might not care about the money, or the admiration of sci-fi readers in this country, but I'm sure he would be happier to know that his story is being as widely read as possible -- that the number of people who might enjoy his work is not being limited by arbitrary marketing labels.

Marketing does, of course, serve a useful purpose. It helps marry the tastes of the reader to the writer who will fulfil those tastes. If novels weren't marketed, book shops would be intimidating barns with books piled at random. Without any form of marketing at all, it would be as difficult for new writers and old -- across genres -- to reach the right audience. While that might level the playing field, it would also be untenable.

In an ideal world, marketing departments would cater to all readers who might like a particular novel. In such a world, you would find An Instance of the Fingerpost next to O is for Outlaw in the Crime section, and Holy Fire next to Deep Field under both Quality and Science Fiction.

But we don't live in such a world. Until we do, it's best to bear in mind that there could well be dozens of books waiting for you on the shelves of other genre sections. Take the time to look. You might be pleasantly surprised at what you find.