Literary tourism : theories, practice and case studies 9781786394606, 178639460X

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Literary Tourism Theories, Practice and Case Studies Edited by Ian Jenkins and Katrín Anna Lund

Literary Tourism Theories, Practice and Case Studies

Literary Tourism Theories, Practice and Case Studies

Edited by

Ian Jenkins and Katrín Anna Lund Department of Geography and Tourism, University of Iceland

CABI is a trading name of CAB International CABICABI Nosworthy Way 745 Atlantic Avenue Wallingford 8th Floor Oxfordshire OX10 8DE Boston, MA 02111 UKUSA Tel: +44 (0)1491 832111 Fax: +44 (0)1491 833508 E-mail: [email protected] Website: www.cabi.org

Tel: +1 (617)682-9015 E-mail: [email protected]

© CAB International 2019. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronically, mechanically, by photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owners. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library, London, UK. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Jenkins, Ian (Ian S.), editor. | Lund, Katrin Anna, editor. Title: Literary tourism : theories, practice and case studies / edited by Ian Jenkins and Katrin Anna Lund, Department of Geography and Tourism, University of Iceland. Description: Wallingford, Oxfordshire, UK ; Boston, Massachusetts : CABI, [2019] | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2018055726| ISBN 9781786394590 (hbk : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781786394606 (ePDF) | ISBN 9781786394613 (ePub) Subjects: LCSH: Literary journeys. | Literary landmarks. | Authors--Travel. | Tourism in literature. | Travel in literature. Classification: LCC PN164 .L56 2019 | DDC 809/.9332--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018055726 ISBN-13: 9781786394590 (hardback)  9781786394606 (ePDF)  9781786394613 (ePub) Commissioning Editor: Alexandra Lainsbury Editorial Assistant: Tabitha Jay Production Editor: Tim Kapp Typeset by Exeter Premedia Services Pvt Ltd, Chennai, India Printed and bound in the UK by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

Contents

Preface: A Short Discourse on the Development, Importance and Effect of Literary ­Tourism Ian Jenkins and Katrín Anna Lund

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Part 1: Theory Relating to Literature and the Tourist Experience

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  1 Travelling Against Time: Flemish Authors Travelling to Italy in the Interwar Period Tom M.J. Sintobin

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  2 ‘Magic Realism’ of Vilnius: Conceptualization of Literary Tourist Gaze Based on Tales of the Old Vilnius by Max Frei Nadzeya Charapan and Hanna Mikulich   3  Visionary Trends in Jules Verne’s The Floating Island Klaus Pfatschbacher   4 Connecting Temporalities: Walking Through Narratives of Guilt and Passion Katrín Anna Lund

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  5  Frontier Travel Narratives: Imagining the American West Through Novels Warwick Frost and Jennifer Laing

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  6  The Making of the Literary City: Edinburgh, Barcelona and Óbidos Lénia Marques

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Part 2: Practical Applications of Literature to the Tourist Experience and Tourist I­ ndustry   7 Reimagining Emulative Journeys: From Classical Texts to Contemporary Travel Writing in the Digital Age Madelene Blaer

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Contents

  8  Response and Responsibility: Poets as Guides for Tourists Anniken Greve

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  9  Learning at Literary Festivals Giulia Rossetti and Bernadette Quinn

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10  Library Tourism Alex Lainsbury

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Part 3: Case Studies of Literary Tourism and their Effects on the Tourist

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11 The Hay Festival: A Longitudinal Study on its Attributes and the Sustainable Impacts on a Small Welsh Town  Ian Jenkins

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12  Literary Tourism in the Indian Sub-Continent Anukrati Sharma and Azizul Hassan

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13  Making Literary Places  Alana N. Seaman

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14 Tourism of Literary Writing: The Brazilian Author as an International Tourist in the Amores Expressos Collection Humberto Fois-Braga

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15  Stay Eat Love: Travel Books, Italy and the Emotional Geographies of Place Kelley A. McClinchey

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16  Literary Tourism: Conclusions and Practical Applications Ian Jenkins and Katrín Anna Lund

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Index

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List of Contributors

Madelene Blaer (neé McWha), is a lecturer in the School of Languages, Literatures, Cultures and Linguistics at Monash University, Melbourne, Australia. Her doctoral dissertation focused on the experiences of contemporary travel writers in the digital age. Tourism and the media, sustainability and travelling experiences are the main themes in her recent publications. Through her teaching, research and travels, she developed a keen interest in connecting academia and industry to foster sustainable and responsible tourism development, management and marketing, which led her to executive leadership positions with the Travel and Tourism Research Association (TTRA). E-mail: [email protected] Nadzeya Charapan is a PhD candidate in the Faculty of Information and Communication of Vilnius University in Lithuania and Visiting Researcher at Uppsala University, Department of ALM (Archival Studies, Library and Information Science and Museums and Cultural Heritage Studies). From 2009 to 2018 she was a lecturer in the Academic Department of Arts and Humanities at the European Humanities University. Her primary areas of research include cultural memory, heritage studies and tourism anthropology. Nadzeya is currently working on her doctoral dissertation about meaning-making and visitor experiences of ethnographic open-air museums in Belarus, Lithuania and Sweden. She teaches courses in cultural memory communication, digital cultural heritage, marketing and communication. E-mail: nadzeya. [email protected] Humberto Fois-Braga is an Assistant Professor and researcher in the Post-Graduation Program in Literature: Literary Studies, as well as a member of the Tourism Department at the Universidade Federal de Juiz de Fora (UFJF), Brazil. He has a PhD in Literary Studies, a Master’s degree in Communication and Society from UFJF, a Master’s degree in Industries du Tourisme from the Université de Toulouse II (Jean Jaurès, Toulouse, France), as well as a degree in Tourism and a specialization in Literary Studies, both from UFJF. E-mail: [email protected] Warwick Frost is an Associate Professor in Tourism and Events at La Trobe University, Australia. He was one of the founders of the biennial International Tourism and Media Conference series, which has staged eight conferences since 2004. With Jennifer Laing, he is co-author of Imagining the American West through Films and Travel (Routledge, 2015) and Books and Travel: Inspirations, Quests and Transformations (Channel View, 2012). E-mail: [email protected] Anniken Greve has doctorates in philosophy and literary theory. She is currently professor in Comparative Literature at UiT The Arctic University of Norway. In philosophy, her published works have centred on philosophy of language, philosophy of place and philosophical vii

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anthropology. In literary studies, she has published on issues in literary and narrative theory and methodology. Currently she collaborates with, gives papers to and writes articles for artists within theatre, performance art and the visual arts. E-mail: [email protected] Ian S. Jenkins is Visiting (previously Associate) Professor at the University of Iceland, Faculty of Life and Environmental Sciences. Ian is a human geographer who has worked in the tourism and leisure industries as a researcher, senior lecturer, consultant and director of several research units. His research and consultancy expertise cover subjects such as festivals and events, responsible/sustainable tourism, adventure tourism, niche tourism development, and risk and safety management. E-mail: [email protected] Jennifer Laing is an Associate Professor in the Department of Management, Sport and Tourism at La Trobe University, Melbourne, Australia. Her research interests include travel narratives; the role of events in society; rural and regional regeneration through tourism and events; and health and wellness tourism. Jennifer is a co-editor of the Routledge Advances in Events Research series. She has co-written six research books, including Books and Travel: Inspiration, Quests and Transformation (Channel View, 2012) with Warwick Frost. In 2017, Jennifer was recognized as an Emerging Scholar of Distinction by the International Academy for the Study of Tourism. E-mail: [email protected] Alex Lainsbury is a commissioning editor at CABI. A long-time literary tourist with a BA in English Literature and Creative Writing from Lancaster University, Alex visits author houses, attends literary festivals, and regularly drops by Platform 9¾. Her interest in library tourism was sparked by a visit to the Library of Birmingham, mainly in search of the toilets but distracted by the architecture, fed by seminars and events hosted at her local library in Reading, and cemented by a trip to New York Public Library’s Children’s Centre, home of the original Winnie the Pooh toys. She believes strongly in the importance of libraries for both visitors and locals, and hopes her chapter can be of some use in protecting these institutions. E-mail: [email protected] Katrín Anna Lund is an anthropologist and a professor at the Department of Geography and Tourism, Faculty of Life and Environmental Sciences, University of Iceland. She has done field work in Spain, Scotland and Iceland with emphasis on landscape phenomenology, narratives, mobility and the senses. Her most recent work in Iceland has focused on destination development in the Arctic and Northern Lights tourism. She co-edited, with Karl Benediktsson, Conversation with Landscape (Ashgate, 2010) and more recently Green Ice: Tourism Ecologies in the European High North (Palgrave Pivot, 2016) with Simone Abrams. E-mail: [email protected] Lénia Marques is an Assistant Professor of Cultural Organizations and Management at the Erasmus University Rotterdam, the Netherlands. After obtaining her PhD in Portugal, she collaborated with different organizations in Portugal, the Netherlands and the United Kingdom. She is a member of the Board of Directors of the World Leisure Organization, and the co-author of Event Design: Social Perspectives and Practices (Routledge, 2015), Intercultural Crossings: Conflict, Memory and Identity (Peter Lang, 2012) and the special issue of the Journal of Tourism Consumption and Practice on ‘Exploring Creative Tourism’ (2012). Her current research focuses on innovation and creativity in leisure, tourism and events. E-mail: [email protected] Hanna Mikulich received her BA in Tourism and Recreation Studies from the European Humanities University in 2016. Her bachelor thesis concerns the role of a literary work in the creation of the tourist gaze on the example of the Old Town of Vilnius, presented in the Tales of the Old Vilnius by Max Frei. Her research interests focus on literary tourism and place-making. Email: [email protected] Kelley A. McClinchey has a PhD in human geography and is currently a Lecturer in the Department of Recreation and Leisure Studies at the University of Waterloo, Ontario, Canada. She specializes in cultural geography, tourism, recreation and critical event studies, with research interests including the emotional and sensuous geographies of migrant family travel, multicultural festival experiences and literary tourism. She is particularly interested in urban place-making, place-sharing, and the inclusion of creative economies in contributing to urban sustainability. A self-proclaimed flaneur, Kelley loves to hike wild trails, stroll city streets and sit

List of Contributors

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in cafés wondering who else in the past has been a witness to changing heritage landscapes. Email: [email protected] Klaus Pfatschbacher, PhD, Lecturer at the University of Applied Sciences IMC-KREMS, Austria. Publications on French Literature and the connection between literature and tourism. E-mail: [email protected] Bernadette Quinn works at Technological University Dublin. She has written extensively about arts festivals, being interested in the roles that they play in transforming places and shaping identities. Heritage studies and gender issues are further interests. She has held External Examining roles at a number of third-level institutions in Ireland and the UK. Bernadette sits on the Editorial Advisory Board of the Journal of Policy Research in Tourism, Leisure and Events and the Irish Journal of Arts Management & Cultural Policy. Bernadette is widely published in leading international tourism and event journals and in edited collections. E-mail: bernadette. [email protected] Giulia Rossetti holds a First Class Honours MA in Science in Planning and Management of Tourism Systems from the University of Trento, Italy. She is currently an assistant lecturer and a PhD researcher at Technological University Dublin in Ireland, where she is working on a project on literary festivals with Dr Bernadette Quinn. Her research explores cultural capital acquisition and literary festival participation through a cross-cultural comparative analysis of Irish and Italian cases. Her research interests include literary festivals, cultural and social capital, serious leisure, qualitative cross-cultural research, and learning in festivals. E-mail: giulia.rossetti@ mydit.ie Alana N. Seaman, PhD, is an Assistant Professor of Recreation, Sports Leadership, and Tourism Management in the School of Health and Applied Human Sciences at the University of North Carolina Wilmington. Her research interests focus primarily on the links between popular culture and tourism, heritage tourism, and humanistic geography. She earned her Doctorate degree at Clemson University in Parks, Recreation, and Tourism Management, her dissertation research explored the links between place, literature and tourist behaviour. Before working in academia, she was a ski instructor in Lake Tahoe, where she also managed vacation homes for celebrity clientele. E-mail: [email protected] Anukrati Sharma is Associate Professor in the Department of Commerce and Management, University of Kota, Rajasthan, India. She has a Masters of International Business and a Masters of Business Administration as well as a doctorate degree in Tourism Marketing. She has edited two books, Tourism Opportunities and Ventures and Maximizing Business Performance and Efficiency through Intelligent Systems (IGI Global, 2017). She is serving as an editorial board member for 26 national and international journals. E-mail: [email protected] Tom M.J. Sintobin is Assistant Professor of Cultural Studies at Radboud University, Nijmegen, The Netherlands. His research interests include Dutch literature from the 19th and 20th centuries, Dutch and Belgian culture around 1900 and Cultures of Tourism. He wrote a monograph on the Belgian author Stijn Streuvels (Wie schaft er op de woorden? Vijf keer Streuvels lezen (KANTL, 2005)). He is also co-editor of Gender, Companionship, and Travel: Discourses in Pre-modern and Modern Travel Literature (Routledge, 2018). E-mail: [email protected]

Preface

A short discourse on the development, importance and effect of literary tourism Literary travel has been a part of tourism from its inception. The guidebooks of Greek and Roman times were used by the Greco-Roman tourists, although related to the citizens of these two great civilizations. Pilgrimages were an essential part of religious tourism, and religious beliefs and rites were contingent on texts such as the Bible and the Quran, and other supporting religious literature. Consequently, the part that literature plays in tourism is by no means insignificant but seems in many cases to be seamlessly connected to tourism during the past centuries. Certainly, the roots of modern-day tourism in the 18th and 19th centuries were specifically supported by literature and many travels were grounded in texts related to tourism destinations. Furthermore, the Victorian era of adventure and expeditions produced many texts and narratives connected to potential tourist destinations, stimulating increased tourist demands and in many cases laying the foundations of the current mass tourist market. Nevertheless, the mass tourism markets of the 1960s and ‘70s probably had fewer connections with literary texts, although the holiday reader or book was in many cases an essential item of the tourism package. The main aim of this book is to provide a broad view of the issues surrounding literary tourism and to provide a theoretical and practical guide to how literary tourism is evolving and affecting the current Western tourism market. Its scope encompasses a wide array of narratives, ranging from the effects of the classic novel on destinations through to commercial book festivals and their power to attract tourists. The book endeavours to provide a perspective by illustrating aspects of tourism that many destinations can capitalize on through literary narratives. Furthermore, the genres of books, narratives and texts have expanded exponentially and one would be hard pressed not to find a tourist who has been unaffected by either reading some text or guidebook while visiting or considering visiting a destination. Sometimes it is the power of film that provides the pull factor, which in many cases is based on a literary text. Film has been identified as an important driver for tourists to visit a place and there are many instances where a film or a series of films has intensified demand to a tourist destination. In some cases demand has been so great that restrictions on access have been imposed, sometimes even resulting in the exclusion of tourists.

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Both Katrín Anna and I realized that there were few books focusing on this special interest area of tourism and this was one of the energizers for going ahead with this publication. It also resonated with the aspect of postmodern tourism emulated by the disparate and fractured tourism markets of today. A quick review of the chapters clearly identifies three typologies of literary tourism – theory, practical applications and case studies – which we thought would provide a useful framework for the reader to review these texts. Although not necessarily mutually exclusive (especially the applications and case studies sections), it was thought that these categories would provide focused examples for the more conceptual analysis. The theory section encompasses theoretical aspects of different disciplines such as anthropology, politics and literature and illustrates how these can be found within literary tourism texts. The practical applications section has a number of narratives demonstrating the practical nature of literary tourism and how it, as a product, can be used to develop and extend a tourism destination. Finally, the case studies section examines specific examples of literary tourism and their relationship with destinations, with the aim of providing insights into successful literary destinations. The treatise of postmodernism and digitalization has had profound impacts on the literary tourism market and poses important questions, such as the role of libraries as a part of the social fabric of a destination. Baudrillard’s treatise on consumer society and the influence of the media is certainly an important paradigm when considering literary tourism. The Internet and changes to consumerism have produced a far more informed and splintered market. These are some of the issues touched on by chapters in the book. Even with these paradigm shifts one must not lose sight of how literature and narratives affect a psychic change in tourists. Books are one of the mechanisms for imagination, dreams, simulations and demands. Books have the ability to take the reader to another world (a form of vicarious tourism in itself). Although destinations and characters are often fictional, this still provides motivation to visit a landscape, urban or rural, to view and walk in the steps of the characters of the book or even the authors who wrote them. Even with the hegemony of digitalization the written text is a key to providing stimulations and emotive responses to visit and experience a destination. Hopefully, this has whetted your appetite to explore the virtual world of literary tourism; enjoy!

Part 1: Theory Relating to Literature and the Tourist Experience Katrín Anna Lund

How and what can literary tourism tell us about how we travel and tourism? Why is it important to study it? What kinds of knowledge does it bring forth? Maybe it has nothing entirely new to tell us, but we demonstrate how examining literary travels brings forth important, sometimes complex, perspectives of travel and tourism often overlooked. Exploring literary tourism reveals, for example, how destination development is a dynamic process through how destinations are ceaselessly improvised by those who travel through them, no matter if the journey follows a literary text or produces it. It shows us how texts write places that are simultaneously written and re-written as people journey through them performing texts, their own and others, factual and fictional, or mostly somewhere in-between. This blurs the boundaries between writing and journeying. The author who publishes a travelogue has put her/his own travel into a textual form that others may follow, consciously or unconsciously, even without undertaking the actual, physical travel, and it may be argued that a story must always be a journey. It is also becoming increasingly common that places are directly storied through the image of literature as tourists are offered a glimpse into the spaces where factual and/or fictional accounts took place, identifying with characters, allowing the imagination to bring them into hyper or even more-than-human realities.

Yet another way to story places is by connecting them to the concept of ‘literature’ through events and festivals that celebrate literary works. Accounts of literary tourism may paint a picture of place and shape its image as stories provide structure. As such, literary tourism is not innocent. It can provide a veil that masks other realities that are omitted from the actual gaze. However, as tourists perform places, they add meaning to places through their personal experiences as they improvise their version of the place. Literary journeys open up multidimensional experiences as narratives – pasts, presents, factual, fictional – entangle. The surrounding landscapes are brought to life, no matter whether they are urban or rural, as they take an active part in the narration. The enmeshment of narratives may even provide a vision and wanderings into a possible future of travel and tourism development. All this emphasizes the ambiguity of the concept of authenticity, one that is much pondered over in the humanities and social sciences, and not least in tourism studies. However, as Tolkien once pointed out, the fantasy offers a world to step into and provides a sense for the real and authentic. And by journeying in a world like that, the literary traveller may be seen as deliberately avoiding the beaten track to experience something different from those labelled 1

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mainstream tourists. This leaves us with questions about what constitutes a beaten track and for whom, how the beaten track comes into being and, furthermore, who is a tourist and who is not, and who is labelled as such by whom? This emphasizes the complexity of tourism – not just literary tourism, but tourism in general – because the heterogeneous worlds that tourists step into are there to be experienced and enacted

as authentic, or not. Thus, what examining literary tourism demonstrates is that tourism destinations, literary or not, are not merely places of consumption. The gaze is always complicated and offers a glimpse into a variety of narratives: past, present and future. However, how we travel and want to identify with our travels is always dependent on the narratives we choose to combine.

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Travelling Against Time: Flemish Authors Travelling to Italy in the Interwar Period

Tom M.J. Sintobin* Department of Cultural Studies, Radboud University, Nijmegen, The Netherlands

According to The World Tourism Organization (World Bank Group, n.d.a), the number of tourist arrivals worldwide was over one billion in 2015, three times more than in 1995. The Yearbook of Tourism Statistics shows a steady rise, with only two interruptions: minor dips between 2002 and 2003 and between 2008 and 2009. It is tempting to link the dips to events that had a massive global impact: the terror attacks from autumn 2001 and the start of the economic crisis with the collapse of Lehman Brothers in September 2008. Although this explanation is all too easy1, it is striking that the effect of those events seems very limited: a drop in tourist arrivals of about 1.3% and 4.2% respectively. The conclusion might be that the tourist industry is not much affected by external events on a global scale, no matter how devastating their nature. But do they affect the tourist discourse? How do tourist narratives respond to such realities? The question is evidently too broad for one chapter, so I will concentrate on one specific historical case study: Flemish travellers to Italy in the interwar period. It is impossible to say how many people from the Flemish-speaking part of Belgium visited Italy in those days: there are only statistical data

available for Belgian visitors. What is more, it was only after 1927 that the Belgians got their own category in these statistics; before that, they were included in the same category with the Dutch, Danish and Scandinavians. Syrjämaa (1997) calculated that in 1927 16,000 Belgians travelled to Italy. That number remained the same in 1928, grew to 25,000 in 1929, then dropped to 13,956 in 1930, presumably because of the financial crisis. 1931 and 1932 – the last years for which she tried to provide numbers – showed a rapid increase despite the global economic crisis, with respectively 39,987 and 36,769 Belgian visitors (Syrjämaa, 1997, p. 393). Professor in economics Fernand Baudhuin claims in 1931 that ‘le Belge voyage peu hors de chez lui; l’une des raisons doit être trouvée dans les prix plus élevés ailleurs’ (Baudhuin, 1931, p. 196), but does not come up with exact numbers. According to Yves Segers, Belgians spent 200 million BEF abroad in 1929, 125 million in 1935 and 150 million in 1936 – with Italy and Lourdes as popular destinations (Segers, 2003, p. 219). Although we will never know exact numbers, we can derive from different phenomena that Italy was clearly in the picture as a travel destination for Flemish travellers in those days.

*​t.​sintobin@​let.​ru.​nl © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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T.M.J. Sintobin

In 1922 a journal for tourists was started under the name De Toerist (the name was changed to Toerisme in 1926) by the Vlaamschen toeristenbond, an organization that was also established in 1922 and had over 100,000 (mostly middle class) members within a decade (Raymaekers, 2012). Italy featured quite often in its contents. There was a lot of practical information on travel schemes, the prices of the visa2, passports, new rules and regulations for foreign visitors, available guidebooks. They announced lectures, slideshows and movies3, they reported on new traffic infrastructre and they applauded the establishment of the ‘Touring Club Italo-Tedesco, Deutsch-Italienischer Touristenverband’. Furthermore, they published travelogues. Already in the very first year there was a series of texts by G. Celis, a priest who reported extensively on his journey to Italy in April 1914, and similar texts were published in the course of subsequent years.4 They also published reviews of travelogues. One example is the review of Een klassieke reis in het ‘Schoone Italië’ by Claes (1925); the reviewer calls it a ‘practical’ book, a must-have ‘for those who travel as tourists to Italy’.5 In this chapter, I will focus on literary accounts of journeys to Italy, published as books, by Flemish authors who visited fascist Italy in the interwar period. How do their travelogues relate to a long tradition of cultural depictions of the country and to the political reality of those days?

Description of the Database and Political Context It proved to be very difficult to trace the exact number of travelogues, but by systematically analysing Boekengids – a bibliographical magazine that started in 1921 – I was able to identify 16 travelogues entirely dedicated to a trip to Italy and published as books between 1925 and 1941. They were written by 13 different Flemish authors: 1. Jozef Deswert, Naar Rome! ‘Anno Santo’ (Deswert, 1925) 2. Ernest Claes, Een klassieke reis in het ‘Schoone Italië’ (Claes, 1925) 3. Felix Timmermans, Naar waar de appelsienen

groeien (Timmermans, 1926) 4. H. Haeck, De bedevaart van Toon Verheyen (Haeck, 1928) 5. E. Van Hemeldonck & Fr. Ramon, Van Toontje die naar Rome ging (Van Hemeldonck and Ramon, 1927) 6. M. van Hoeck, Schoonheidsvizoenen. Reisindrukken uit Italië (Van Hoeck, 1928) 7. Alfons Lambrecht, Naar de Gondelstad (Lambrecht, 1928) 8. Gab. Celis, Door het kunstrijk Italië (Celis, 1929) 9. Gab. Celis, Naar Rome: reisindrukken (Celis, 1928) 10. Jozef Simons, In Italië (Simons, 1930) 11. M.E. Belpaire, Reukwerk (Belpaire, 1932) 12. Louisa Duykers, Aquarellen uit Italïe (Duykers, 1933) 13. Hilarion Thans, Vertellen: Derde Deel (Thans, 1937) 14. Cyriel Verschaeve; Italië. Studies over kunst (Verschaeve, 1938) 15. Hilarion Thans, Door oud en nieuw Italië (Thans, 1938) 16. Hilarion Thans, Langs heilige bergen. Vertellen: 4 (Thans, 1941) This means an average of one travelogue a year: there clearly was a market for these books. I was unable to find information on readers, but in one of the books I consulted I found the following handwritten text: ‘Souvenir of my trip to Rome in the Holy Year 1925’ – which means that travellers were buying them. Since paid holidays for ordinary working people were only established in 1936 in Belgium, it seems logical that many people reading these travelogues did so as ‘armchair tourists’, without being able to go to Italy themselves. Some of these books were (modified) reprints. Een klassieke reis in het ‘Schoone Italië’ (Claes, 1925) by Ernest Claes was first published in 1908 under the title Het schooner Italië. Reisvertelling (1908). Aquarellen uit Italïe (Duykers, 1933) by Louisa Duykers featured in 1911 in the literary magazine Dietsche Warande & Belfort. A part of Timmermans’s text featured as a series in De Maasbode and Nieuwe Venlosche Courant in the summer of 1925 and Celis published earlier in De Toerist. Apart from Felix Timmermans, who published his travelogue with his usual Dutch publishing house, all the

Travelling Against Time

publishing houses are Flemish and Catholic. Almost half of the authors were priests (Thans; Verschaeve; Celis; Van Hoeck; Haeck; Deswert), the others were non-clerical but moving, working and publishing in Catholic circles. Among them, there were two women, Duyckers and Belpaire, both connected to the literary magazine Dietsche Warande & Belfort as authors, and in the case of the latter, also as mentor and financer. I was unable to find any travel books to Italy by authors from the other ‘pillars’ (the term to describe the political and organizational segregation of societies along ideological lines), socialist nor liberal, from the interwar period. Evidently, for Catholics Italy was the country to visit, since it had already been the seat of the Church for centuries and was the most important site of the Grand Tour. One of the first reports of a Grand Tour, The Voyage of Italy, or, A Complete Journey through Italy, was written by the Roman Catholic priest Richard Lassels (1670). In his ‘A preface to the reader’ he tries to counter those who say that he ‘hunt[s] too much after Ceremonies, and Church antiquities’ by saying that ‘I cannot speak of Rome the Christian, but I must speak of Relicks, Ceremonies and Religion’ and by stressing that he paid a lot of attention to ‘prophane’ subjects as well. A steady stream of travelogues about a pilgrimage to Rome had found its way to European readers for centuries. In the early days of the Belgian nation state (founded in 1830), for instance, the priest P. Visschers published several books on his journey to Italy.6 By the interwar period in Belgium, a tourist industry had already started to develop around the idea of going on to Italy. In De Toerist and Toerisme we find various invitations for guided tours to Italy.7 Interestingly, several of the travelogues I found describe a guided journey – often explicitly named a ‘pilgrimage’– in which the group is accompanied by the parish priest. All this helps to explain why the travelogues I found were Catholic. The political context evidently played a role as well. Fascists took over power on the 28 October 1922. The movement strongly opposed democratic socialism and liberalism but took care to keep close ties with the Roman Catholic Church. This gave Italy a negative image in liberal and socialist circles, which became even worse when on 10 June 1924, the socialist leader of the opposition Giacomo Matteotti was

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murdered by members of the Ceka, who possibly received their orders directly from Mussolini (Carocci, 1975, p. 32). In his ‘Discorso sul delitto Matteotti’ on 3 January 1925 in the House of Representatives, Mussolini claimed personal responsibility for inciting the violence in the country and declared himself dictator, arguing that Italy needed stability at all costs. The murder, the investigation and the trial, as well as Mussolini’s speech, were widely covered in newspapers all over the world, and the Low Countries were no exception. The assassination also meant the start of a very turbulent and internationally mediatized relationship between the Belgian minister of foreign affairs from 1925 to 1927, the socialist Emile Vandervelde, and il Duce. On 16 October 1925, Vandervelde refused to meet Mussolini in person at the conference of Locarno. The next year, he was the only minister of foreign affairs not to congratulate Mussolini after he survived an assault on 7 April (he only lost the tip his nose). In October 1926, Vandervelde gave a speech at the occasion of a commemorative plaque in honour of Matteotti in Brussels. The socialist newspaper Vooruit published the following quote: ‘I will not refer to the circumstances of the crime. I will not look for the responsibilities. I want to register one thing: in present-day Europe one is allowed to kill a man, on condition that that man is a socialist, a revolutionary’ (Vooruit, 1926). And in May 1927 Vandervelde did not show up to greet disabled Italian soldiers during their visit to Belgium. Mussolini felt insulted, ordered his ambassador to ask for apologies and eventually withdrew him to Italy – demanding the Belgian government fire Vandervelde. On 31 May, two Catholic representatives, Sinzot and Mernier, interpellated Vandervelde in the House of Representatives. He managed to counter their attack very effectively, but the session ended in a riot when a communist and a socialist representative started to yell anti-fascist slogans. It was not before the end of December 1927 that Mussolini sent a new ambassador to Belgium, 3 weeks after the socialists had left the government for a different reason. An analysis of the way the media from the different pillars covered these events shows how deeply politically divided the Low Countries were in those days. Whereas socialist newspapers applauded Vandervelde’s actions against what they called ‘the chief of the fascist government

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T.M.J. Sintobin

of murderers’ (HVa, 1925), Catholic media and politicians kept their distance. It is not difficult to understand their attitude. From the very beginning, Mussolini had strived to get support from the Vatican, for instance by saving the Banco di Roma (and the Vatican fortune) and by solving the so-called ‘Roman Question’ with the Lateran Treaty (1929), in which the Vatican was recognized as an independent city state and was compensated for the loss of the Papal States since 1870 (Carocci, 1975, pp. 29–30). It is obvious that the international community had not yet a reached a consensus on how to judge Mussolini and his regime. One journalist summarized the situation on 7 January 1925: ‘Depending on one’s point of view, one will judge Mussolini’s deeds very differently’ (HVb, 1925). Important differences, so he argued, had to do with ideological background and nationality. The French tended to condemn Mussolini’s aspirations in Morocco because they perceived him as a threat to their own interests, whereas the English praised him because they welcomed a strong counterbalance to the French presence in the Mediterranean.

Motives and Stereotypes Tourists loathe other tourists. As Paul Fussell claims in his book Abroad. British Literary Traveling Between the Wars: ‘From the outset mass tourism attracted the class-contempt of killjoys who conceived themselves independent travelers and thus superior by reason of intellect, education, curiosity, and spirit’ (Fussell, 1980, p. 40). Even today, these stereotypes are prominent in tourist discourse (Butcher, 2003). Many of the characters in my database are no different. Time and time again, they look down on ‘tourists’ who stick to the beaten track (Sintobin, 2013b). They claim to do things differently. Hilarion Thans, for example, claims that he visits ‘places outside the tourist industry’ (Thans, 1938, p. 11) and that he behaves in a very different way from tourists, who follow ‘for ever the same course […] in a minimal stretch of time’, do not venture off the beaten track and consequently do not get in touch with ‘the soul of things […] the psychology of a nation’ (pp. 9–10). Another example is Celis, who is firmly

convinced that his adventurous attitude showed him the authentic Rome: ‘If you want to enjoy the real “life of the common people”, then take a walk along the Tiber, when the sun is setting’ (Celis, 1928, p. 56). These claims by various narrators to be superior to ordinary tourists are, however, contradicted by the very stereotypical nature of their travelogues. They all look very similar; the genre clearly is very strictly coded in many ways. First, it is striking that travellers in these books all have their reasons for their journey. Time and time again it is stressed that they do not travel for leisure – ‘idleness is the devil’s pillow’ – but because they want to learn or for religious reasons. Timmermans’s I-narrator yearns for that country ‘with its art and light, its landscapes, its history and its miraculous religion’. Modern times are chaotic, he claims, but Italy will ‘purify the mind’ (Timmermans, 1926, pp. 5–6). To Belpaire, a trip to Italy is for all humankind like coming home ‘in a second fatherland, the fatherland of the souls’ (1932, p. 185). Claes calls a trip to Italy in his preface ‘a bright spot in a man’s life and a blessing for the development of the mind of idealistic youth’ (Claes, 1925, p. 2). Some characters want to pay tribute to the Pope and to congratulate him with the fact that Mussolini has rehabilitated him (Haeck, 1928) or to confess (Simons, 1930). Others stress that theirs is a trip to beauty and art (Verschaeve, 1938; Van Hoeck, 1928). As becomes clear from these motivations, all these travels have a similar structure: from darkness to light, from sin to absolution, from ignorance, doubt and chaos to knowledge, insight and beauty. The opening of Van Hoeck’s Schoonheidsvizioenen is telling in this respect: ‘Kennst du das Land’: this sunny melody threw open her colourful sides when, on that cold, cheerless September-afternoon, the train from Brussels whistled away to the land where visions of beauty would open up in the brightest light of a gurgling sun, under the purest blue of a deep sky. At a raging speed through Brabant and Namen, into Luxemburg. The grey evening had fallen, distant chimneys spit out a dirty fog over the slanting land. Lightningtrains flashed past. Rainspears, hard as steel, stabbed the windows. […] It has become dark. Every now and again, in an irascible run through a railway hall, where the weak lanterns light up for just

Travelling Against Time

a brief moment. We speed through the Elzas, past Thionville, glowing fantastically against the black sky, with its tremendous industry that refuses to dim: a ginger glow smokes from the sombre factories, spectres project appalling arabesques on the walls. (Van Hoeck, 1928, p. 9)

Clearly this journey starts in a dark environment, where it is cold and uncomfortable, ugly and polluted. It is hostile (the rain is compared to stabbing spears) and characterized by the mechanical and unhuman (‘lanterns’; ‘train’; ‘industry’) and speed. The closer the narrator gets to Italy, the more natural, beautiful and lighter the environment gets. Eventually, he returns home with plenty of good memories of ‘visions of beauty’. Something very similar happens in Door oud en nieuw Italië: as long as the narrator is still on his way (he travels via Airolo in Switzerland) he gets the feeling of being in a pre-worldly chaos or Deluge: ‘Waterfalls jump and foam. The Tessino bolts, pallid brown, with waves like furious hordes of lions’ (Thans, 1938, p. 15). As soon as he has reached Italy, the chaos disappears and he describes a group of extraordinarily beautiful 7-year-old children who are singing while walking (pp. 15–16). Several authors use the tunnels through the Alps to create this effect: ‘Suddenly we speed out of the deepest night into the brightest light. The travellers cheer in choir […] We are in beautiful Italy’ (Claes, 1925, p. 12). It is not difficult to recognize the structure of a very ancient type of travelling here: that of the pilgrimage. Nelson Graburn – and many in his stead – have argued that the structure of the pilgrimage – a ‘sacred journey from home to away, followed by a return to home’ (Bruner, 2005, p. 13) underlies any tourist experience. The Grand Tour fits this pattern as well: as a rite of passage, it aimed at transforming boys into adults with enough savoir vivre and education to assume their role in society. The Flemish travellers follow the trajectory of the Grand Tour; Rome, Venice, Florence, Naples: they constitute the standard route of 18th-century Grand Tourists (Burke, 2005). It seems safe to conclude that Flemish interwar travel(ogue)s were modelling after both these phenomena. The way specific sites are described equally reminds of stereotypes common in these old ways of travelling. Of course, Italy is the land of art where one goes to receive an artistic (and religious) education: already in

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Lassels’s (1670) book that is exactly the role ascribed to the country in the usual narrative of the Grand Tour. The fact that Rome is seen as the climax of the trip does not come as a surprise either, since ‘eternal Rome’ (Urbs Aeterna – one of Rome’s best-known epitheta ornantia since Antiquity) is the final goal of any Christian pilgrim. Predictably, Flemish travelogues think of Rome and even Italy as a whole as a place unaffected by time: it is eternal, immortal, universal. ‘No city more deserves the name: the Eternal city’, claims Belpaire (1932, p. 192). Van Hoeck states that the churches he sees were built ‘not for a dying race, but for eternity’ (1928, p. 18). Characters feel as if they are placed outside time. ‘We don’t get older anymore,’ says Gommer, full of admiration, ‘we are being stabilized, just like the Belgian franc!’ (Simons, 1930, p. 41). And one of Haeck’s characters suddenly realizes: ‘here, the Middle Ages are still going strong […] Here, all centuries are one, like a harmonica of eternity’ (Haeck, 1928, pp. 33–34) – ‘Centuries ceased to exist, the ancient Romans rose from their graves and kneeled next to a simple farmer from Zaveldonck’ (pp. 44–45). All this is possible because of Rome’s ‘religion, unlimited by language nor time’ (p. 133) – a clear reference to Rome as Caput Mundi: it is not an Italian, but a global city: the perfect melting pot. In the following paragraph, I will look in more detail at the representation of one specific city that many of the Flemish travellers visited: Venice. Rosemary Sweet has analysed the representation of this city in travelogues by (mainly) British Grand Tourists between 1690 and 1820. For the 18th-century traveller, she writes, ‘the appeal and interest of Venice had resided in its singularity’ in different realms (Sweet, 2012, p. 234). It was the ‘città galante’ (p. 202), marked by luxury, eroticism, carnival, that to some felt like ‘enchanted ground’ (Sweet, 2012, p. 214). In the 19th century, representations of the city were characterized more and more by ‘nostalgic regret or a sense of romance or mystery’ – as ‘a city in ruins where the imagination could have free play’ (Sweet, 2012, p. 234). Literary representations, such as Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice and, later on, Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, functioned as important lenses through which the city was interpreted. It is not difficult to demonstrate that the Flemish travelogues show similarities to both

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18th- and 19th-century representations of Venice. Verschaeve writes that the city is dying in beauty and calls her ‘la città del amore e della morte. Venice, city of love and death!’ (1938, pp. 86–87). Claes talks about ‘a magic wand that touched all the towers’ and ‘a sad song, a song of past glory’ (Claes, 1925, p. 77). In the evening, he stands in front of the open window, dreaming about Venice’s glorious past, full of ‘pennons and flags, glittering torches, figures in velvet and silk, war fanfares and sweet music from the depths of the marvellously illuminated palaces, masked hangmen, Othellos and Shylocks […] Light and shadow, happiness and sorrow, wealth and poverty, fame and decay, victory and defeat!’ (p. 78). Van Hoeck calls it ‘the city of Magic; the queen of the seas, the mysterious riddle, the proud ruin enshrined in the trembling haze of past centuries; a fairytale in the thousand coloured light of the day; a miracle in the sultry nights’ (Van Hoeck, 1928, p. 16). Timmermans has his narrator claim that Venice does ‘nothing but be beautiful and fade away’ (Timmermans, 1926, p. 38) and when he smokes in front of his open window and observes the Santa Maria della Salute, he does not just see a basilica but ‘a sphynx with locks’, ‘a woman, shaking her hair from back and forth. Young and delicious’ (Timmermans, 1926, pp. 28–29). As can be derived from these examples, the terminology most frequently used to describe the city has to do with dream, fairy tale, secret, seduction, fatal beauty and past glory. Van Hoeck is a priest and Timmermans a married man, travelling with his wife – but they nevertheless interpret the city in erotic terms: their tourist gaze is modelled after an ancient tradition of viewing Venice.

Explicit Sources I am not claiming that there is a direct intertextual link between my travelogues and the British travelogues Sweet discussed. I do think they both are informed by and (re)produce a similar stereotyping discourse, the origins of which are hard to trace, that has haunted the public imagination for centuries. Nevertheless, there are many instances in which the texts themselves explicitly mention their intertexts.

Some intertexts are only mentioned in one travelogue. An example is to be found in Van Hoeck, who praises ‘Mgr. Keppler’ for his description of the façade of the San Marco (Van Hoeck, 1928, p. 17). No doubt, he means Paul Wilhelm von Keppler (1852–1926), bishop of Rottenburg; Van Hoeck translated some of his work into Dutch in 1918. One of Keppler’s subtitles is Venezia, die Einzige, which corresponds to Van Hoeck’s description of the city as ‘de éénige’ – ‘the singular one’ (1928, p. 16). This shows how a very old characterization of Venice as ‘singular’, ‘unique and extraordinary’ (Sweet, 2012, p. 199) reaches a Flemish travelogue through a German mediator. Most intertexts, however, pop up in several books. Extremely frequent is a reference to Goethe. The German author stayed in Italy from September 1786 until April 1788 and described his ‘Grand Tour’ in works such as Italienische Reise, Venetianische Epigramme and the song ‘Mignon (Kennst Du das Land)’ from Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre (1795–1796). The majority of the Flemish travelogues refer to the first line of that poem, ‘Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn,/Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen glühn’. Timmermans uses it for his title – Naar waar de appelsienen groeien or To where the oranges grow; Van Hoeck begins his book with it; Claes and Simons have their narrators quote Goethe after passing through the tunnel. Claes writes: We are in beautiful Italy – ‘Das land wo die citrônen blühn!’ We are in the land of the fine arts; in the land of flowers and sun; in the land of blue skies and blue waves, in the land of the most delicious scenes of nature and the most royal works of art. We are in God’s favourite land!! […] We are happy to be in Italy. Everything smiles at us. The green shines lighter and the sun happier, sunnier I might say. (Claes, 1925, p. 12)

The entire description brings to mind Goethe’s poem: Italy is a blissful country of art, nature and beauty, where people can love and be together. Another often mentioned intertext is ‘Baedeker’: the well-known travel guidebook series that Karl Baedeker started publishing in 1827. In the 1860s three parts on Italy came out, in several languages. The seventh edition was published in 1926, in Leipzig: Italien, von den Alpen bis Neapel: kurzes Reisehandbuch (Baedeker, 1926).

Travelling Against Time

Many characters in my database own a Baedeker and systematically disagree with their guidebook. Simons’s narrator, for instance, says that he does not believe ‘our Baedeker’ when he claims that the façade of St Peters is ‘145 meters long and 46 metres high’ (Simons, 1930, p. 54). Thans has read in his Baedeker that a walk to the top of Subasio mountain takes 3 hours, but is privileged to have a local friend who knows ‘shorter tracks’ (Thans, 1938, p. 161). And when Duykers meets German tourists, ‘Baedeker in their hands, hurriedly’, she explicitly claims that they miss what really matters (Duykers, 1933, p. 11). This critical attitude can thus be linked to the clear tendency in these narrators to distinguish themselves from ‘normal tourists’ who just take at face value whatever they are told. The tension between providing the reader with factual information and keeping the story attractive is present in my entire database. On the one hand the travelogues clearly want to inform the reader to help him plan his own journey and thus resemble guidebooks. In his prologue, Claes explicitly names as one of his aims to write ‘a short manual of the journey he undertook and a […] loyal travelling companion throughout Italy’ (Claes, 1925, p. 2). Occasionally, the authors make use of the imperative style so typical for tourist discourse: ‘To get there [to the Catacombs], go to the Porta S. Sebastiana, where the ‘Via Appia’ begins’ (Celis, 1928, p. 41). The reader gets travel suggestions just like he would get from a guidebook: ‘I suggest you go there in the morning, since so many travellers arrive by car in the afternoon that it becomes impossible to ‘intimately’ feel something or pay attention to the touching past’ (Celis, 1928, p. 43). Names of attractions are more often than not put in italics, bold or capitals (sometimes all at once) – just like in a Baedeker in those days. Several books are richly illustrated, with predictable pictures of the famous sites. By showing off all this knowledge, the narrators profile themselves as intellectuals, well read and well documented. However, they also try to emulate the Baedeker by enhancing the literary quality of their text. First, the often very poetical language used – figures of speech are abundant, as is a very marked terminology – obviously aims at turning the travelogues into things of beauty. Second, it is striking how many tricks the narrators use to avoid their texts becoming as dry

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and dogged as the Baedeker, which mainly enumerates facts and data about a certain site. They use different strategies to avoid this effect. First, they do not strive to mention everything, but single out spectacular moments or aspects of the site (and sometimes refer to Baedeker ‘for more figures’ (Simons, 1930, p. 56)). Second, they make sure to alternate facts with funny or cruel anecdotes. A good example is the descriptions of the Catacombs and the Colosseum, in which special attention is paid to the various ways early Christians were tortured and killed. Third, they make use of very specific scenes to ‘neutralize’ the well-documented (Adam, 1993) negative impact of too much purely descriptive information on readers. They introduce a character (for instance, a local friend, a tour guide) who guides the narrator and provides him with information on site. The result is a dynamic scene, a so-called Homeric description, in which the descriptive passage does not stop the time of the narration, but is performed by stereotypical couples, in this case ‘le guide, le touriste’ (Hamon, 1993, p. 185). Such a scene can be very elaborate. When Haeck’s characters visit St Peter’s Basilica, ‘the professor’ – their guide – asks them to guess how high the pillars are: ‘The Dutchman estimated 15 metres, the sacristan said “let’s say: ten” and the teacher thought there would be twelve. The professor looked them in the face one by one and then said: “It is thirty metres high!” “Oh my gosh,” Toon yelled, “They can put the church of Zaveldonk [his village; TS] underneath it!”’ (Haeck, 1928, p. 32) Other narrators have their characters measuring distances in steps. Timmermans’s narrator often does not care about exact numbers: ‘hundreds of metres’ (Timmermans, 1926, pp. 25–27). His text therefore does not merely offer a description of a site, but the testimony of the way this narrator personally experiences the site. This is a common strategy in my database: the narrators express their feelings and in doing so they both personalize their tourist experience and suggest to the reader an appropriate code of behaviour and interpretation for a given site. Timmermans even has his narrator touch a painting by Fra Angelico, The Deposition from the Cross, and then triumphantly claim: ‘I dipped my finger in heaven’ (pp. 49–50). Timmermans’s alter ego closely resembles the main character of his best-known novel, Pallieter, but is not unique in my database.

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Several of the travelogues have a similar rather foolish character, whose humorous and unconventional behaviour counters the seriousness of the erudite guides that take care of the more informative passages (for example, Toon Verhoeven, who continuously interrupts the ‘professor’ in Haeck (1928), ‘our fat companion’ in Celis (1928) and Gommer in Simons (Simons, 1930)). All these techniques aim at securing the readability and literariness of the travelogue.

Blind In the Land of Light? As I hope to have shown, Italy is depicted in a very stereotypical way as the land where light, art and religion are omnipresent and, especially in the case of Rome, eternal. The travelogues thus stand in the same discursive tradition as, for instance, reports by Grand Tourists. Changes to such an eternal country will never be more than ripples on the surface; the essence remains unchanged. In what follows, I want to look at the role contemporary history and discourse play in my database. How do they represent the contested figure of Mussolini and his politics? Mussolini is rarely mentioned in the majority of the travelogues I studied, if at all. Van Hoeck, for instance, seems to be fond of descriptions of war and violence in the past; he does not mention the political reality of his days once. In Timmermans there is one reference, at the end of the text, when he is in Genoa: ‘On almost all the houses, as in so many other cities, one can find painted traces of the passionate elections. “Vote por Mussolini,” “Vote por Manzanin,” with various slogans and signs such as the Fascist axe and other things’ (Timmermans, 1926, p. 139). Three dots, that is all the reader gets. This violent regime does not fit his stereotypical image of Italy, with the passion of the elections as the one exception, because that ties in nicely with ‘the beautiful, tremendous, passionate, religious Italy’ he has in mind (p. 140). Four authors do pay more attention to the regime: Celis, Haeck, Thans and Simons. Celis refers to Mussolini several times, but does so without any value judgement. The routine check by ‘Mussolini’s “Blackshirts”’ at the border, the speech Mussolini holds in Rome on 21 April, on the occasion of the commemoration

of the foundation of Rome (‘Fifty thousand men gathered there to listen to the head of the government’ (Celis, 1928, p. 54)), and so on: the narrator sticks to description. The only vague hint of criticism is his description of ‘the new museum, Mussolini’s Museum’ (p. 56), which is followed by the following, ominous passage: ‘A proverb says: “the Tarpeian Rock is close to the Capitol” to prove that those who are praised and famous today can fall in disgrace tomorrow’ (p. 56). The first thing Haeck’s characters see on their arrival is soldiers: ‘Toon yelled in four directions: “Soldiers of Mussolini” and then winked at a fascist’. The soldier smiles back at him ‘in Italian’ (Haeck, 1928, p. 15). These soldiers clearly do not pose a threat. On the contrary, they have a clear and appreciated function: ‘I like what I see: at least there is order here’ (p. 15). Their amiability is stressed several times in the text. While the soldiers march, ‘they played the mandolin on the grip of the gun’ (p. 125). When the main character gets lost, ‘a fascist’ shows him the way (p. 100). In fact, everyone in the novel is friendly: the police, the people, fellow tourists. Humanity is good: ‘the Flemish, Germans and Swiss nuns’ - people from three parts of the world, with the same religion (p. 23), praying an international rosary (p. 30). Even the Germans are friends – despite the war: ‘And even if you were German, Sister’, Toon says to a nurse, ‘I wouldn’t have minded … because here in Rome everyone is cosmopolitan ... I wanted to say: Brothers. Brothers and sisters, Sister, that is what we are in Rome’ (pp. 20–21) – a clear reference to Rome as Caput Mundi. Mussolini is not problematic because he respects the right religion. The problem is Buddhists, Brahmans and Islam, but they will see ‘clearly that their national pantheon will have to make way for us, and heads will roll until we are the boss.’ (p. 59) Thans refers to Mussolini and his politics quite often, especially in his 1938 travelogue Door oud en nieuw Italië [Throughout old and new Italy]. In his text, he describes the journey he undertook in 1935, the year in which the Second Italo-Abyssinian War started. His narrator sees soldiers on the train, heading for the war, and a passenger tells him about il Duce: He entirely changed us. We used to think like defeated people, like people who had been

Travelling Against Time

strangers in their own house under the rule of Austria, France, Spain. Now we become Roman citizens again, like 20 centuries ago. […] A sharpwitted French priest told me: ‘We have one God, in heaven. You have a second one on earth: Mussolini!’ We will win the war. Thanks to our modern equipment and the justice of our cause. (Thans, 1938, p. 22)

Thans’s narrator has other people praise Mussolini for solving the anarchy and chaos caused by the socialists (p. 25), for solving the religious question by explicitly declaring Italy to be a Catholic country (p. 26), for promoting domestic travelling to enhance national unity (p. 59), for trying to counter mass emigration (p. 91), for his agricultural and technological innovations (p. 55, p. 80), and so on. The majority of these speakers are (Italian) clerics old and young, the others are ‘ordinary’ but decent people, as for instance an old worker who speaks ‘in civilized way’ and seems ‘educated’. One of the dominant themes in the representation of Mussolini is that he has a modest background himself and has known poverty – and consequently cares for the ordinary workers and the poor (p. 108). This subtly links him to Francis of Assisi – the ‘Poverello’, whom, one of the priests explains, Mussolini admires as ‘the Italian sanctity’ (p. 79). By quoting all these ‘decent’ people, Thans, who is a member of the Franciscan Order himself, can refrain from having to pass judgement on Mussolini. The only exceptions are two small compliments: he likes the fact that fascists got rid of vendors of souvenirs annoying tourists (p. 27) and he seems to appreciate the new train carriages: ‘a glass salon with velvet benches. And no class distinction’ (p. 120); but for the rest, this narrator keeps his distance. There is a scene in which he condemns the type of magazines and books that are for sale at the newsstand: ‘90 percent of it is sexappeal! If the Duce wants to make his people healthy and strong, he will have to change this’ (p. 55). Or: time will tell. When the narrator serves mass alongside a local priest and apologizes beforehand for the fact that he is not familiar with the local ceremonies, his Italian colleague says, with a smile: ‘Che dice! What are you saying!’ Eventually, the narrator has to agree: ‘We are standing at the altar of Il Crocifisso. Even without words this Crucifix

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speaks to the soul!’ (p. 117). In the end, it is religion that counts. Simons’s narrator never feels the fascist regime as a threat. A good example is when the characters attend a parade by Carabinieri and fascist youth: It’s the 21st of April, Workers’ Day … in Italy! In fact, the Dies Natalis urbis Romae, the birthday of the founding of Rome, but to get rid of the socialist taste of International Workers’ Day on the first of May, Mussolini decided to change the date with a full 8 days and dedicate it to nationalist fascism. Saint Job knows his people. (Simons, 1930, p. 115)

The conflict between socialists and il Duce is described in a remarkably neutral way. The International Workers’ Day, Rome’s birthday and a fascist celebration are put on one line. The fact that Mussolini is compared to ‘Saint Job’ in the proverb is fascinating: Ancient Rome, Mussolini and Catholicism have become identical. This mechanism, which in fact resembles the official state discourse that represents il Duce as ‘the new Caesar’ (Burdett, 2007, p. 4), we can see time and time again in this text. Mussolini reinstalls Rome’s former glory, for instance by making an arid region fertile again to feed all Italians (Simons, 1930, p. 50) and in doing so performs a Christian duty because working the land equals ‘being helpers of God’s Providence, of God’s blessing’ (p. 94). Throughout the text, the reader is shown a world of harmony, where opposites meet and reconcile: priests and workers, inhabitants from different parts of Flanders, Flemish and Dutch or Germans, Italians and travellers. They all do exactly the same as the tribes that eventually founded Rome: they fraternize in the Caput Mundi. When the characters listen to boy scouts singing in praise of Mussolini, they hope to hear such songs back home one day: ‘This image of Young Italy, rising in the morning sky, is what we carry with us to Young Flanders!’ (p. 122). The novel ends and begins with the same exclamation: ‘Long live Mussolini’ (p. 15, p. 172).

Conclusion Italy was a popular travel destination for Catholic Flemish writers in the interwar period.

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The travelogues they published stood in a long representational tradition and reproduced (in the case of Goethe or Grand Tour travelogues) or contested (in the case of Baedeker) various existing discourses, with their stereotypes. In doing so, we can identify their narrators as typical tourists with their typical tourist gazes and expectations, and their ambition to distinguish themselves from the other tourists. Most of them do not take into account an entirely different discourse, the one in newspapers from those days: they often fail to mention the contested political situation in their travelogues, and if they do, their writings echo the acquiescent attitude the Roman Catholic Church showed in those days. The presence of Mussolini and his regime does not destroy the prescribed tourist experience of the country. Historian Frances Stonor Saunders noted in her book The Woman Who Shot Mussolini (Stonor Saunders, 2010) that il Duce himself had become an object of interest, a part of the Grand Tour as it were: ‘To see him was as much a part of the long-planned trip to the Eternal City as it was to visit the ruins or to walk over the places where the heroes of antiquity had once walked,’ ‘women travellers [dreamt] of tea with Mussolini’ (Stonor Saunders, 2010, p. 5). This case study from the first half of the 20th century makes clear how resilient tourism and tourism discourse was, in casu travelogues with a literary ambition, in the face of devastating external events. How can we evaluate this? On the one hand it is clear that these travellers are locked up within the frame of mind and the institutions (publishing house; audience; literary criticism; their own background) of the Catholic pillar. Their tourist gaze is entirely shaped by this particular context, as gazes are (Urry, 1990), ‘apoliticized’ and ‘blind to other sights’ than the stereotype they have been taught (Wang, 2000, p. 161). Could we have expected these people to break out of this discourse, given the fact that nowadays people travel to Egypt and see nothing but pyramids and camels, to South Africa to see just vineyards and wildlife? On the other hand, at least one of their contemporaries did exactly that, as I have argued elsewhere (Sintobin, 2013a). Gerard Walschap travelled to Italy in the summer of 1934. He had received a grant from the government and the idea was for him to write

a travelogue. In the letters he wrote to his wife while travelling, we see a remarkable evolution. Initially, he shares the tourist gaze with the writers discussed above and does not pay much attention to the fascist regime. At best, he sees it as something insignificant that will pass away soon: only art is eternal, and Italy will make him religious and healthy again. Gradually, his interpretation of Italy starts to shift. In Palermo, he is deeply shocked by an encounter with a 13-year-old prostitute and a starving beggar. He writes to his wife that he can no longer turn away from ‘the filth that he sees, with all that militarism. The harbor of Palermo is full of warships, that burn tons of money every evening to keep their searchlights going’ (Walschap, 1998, p. 372). In the terms of Lacan: the Real breaks through the Symbolic Order and destroys its system of signs. Walschap never wrote an officially published travelogue about his journey. All we have is four short fragments, published between 1934 and 1935 in the literary magazine Forum that subtly ironize contemporary Europe – and a set of private letters to his wife with the highly critical passage I just quoted. How come he is able to leave the prescribed tourist gaze behind? One reason might be the fact that this very intelligent author was engaged in a severe conflict with prominent members of the Catholic Church in those days, who disapproved of his ‘perverted’ works and his past as a failed seminarian (Brems, 2011). Or maybe the fact that his travelogue occurred in private communication, and not as a book, allowed him to escape the dominant discourse? Possibly, the genre of the ‘Catholic travelogue to Italy’ obeyed strict rules in the interwar period: it was not open to discussions of politics and concentrated on the stereotypical representation of the destination. No matter the reason, given the fact that at least one author managed to shatter the tourist gaze, be it in private, makes it tempting to describe the conventional discourse as examples of ‘blind’ or ‘blinded tourism’, a new term, in a way the opposite of ‘dark tourism’ or ‘thanatourism’ (Seaton, 2009) that has people travelling to problematic sites to witness violence and (reminders of) death. By limiting myself to travelogues published as books, I evidently only hit the surface of a broad phenomenon here. Further research

Travelling Against Time

should take travelogues published in different media (official and private) into account as well as travelogues about different destinations (Hitler’s Germany, Franco’s Spain, Salazar’s Portugal) and periods. Last but not least, the question can be asked how tourism practitioners can make use of cases like this. I think it fits

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perfectly in a meta-tourist narrative: a narrative aiming at those customers who are interested in the behind-the-scenes of the tourist industry, in the staging rather than the stage, reviewing how, why and when other people were blind to the reality of the destination. Their numbers are increasing.

Notes If we concentrate on the USA, for instance, we see a somewhat different pattern: a similar steady rise, but with dips between 1997 and 1998, between 2000 and 2003 and between 2008 and 2009 (World Bank Group, n.d.b). 2 In 1922, the Italian government decided to offer free visas to Belgians – a clear indication that they actively promoted tourism from Flanders. 3 F.i. on March 24: ‘Lecture with light-images about “Italy” by professor De Vis’ – in the city hall of Mechelen – and ‘adorned with singing and music’ (1922, p. 76). 4 F.i. Jos. Joos., ‘Assisi’, 1923, pp. 162–166 – illustrated with pictures provided by the Office Italien du Tourisme. 5 Claes, 1925, p. 193. 6 ‘Mijne reis naer Italië en Roomen, 1839–1840’ (manuscript); Reis naer Loretten (1843), Beschryving der merkweerdigste Oudheden van Assisi (1841) and Het liefdadig Roomen (1842). 7 Italy was part of an all-inclusive tour for 8 to 28 August 1922, which cost 835 fr. third class, 1150 fr. second class (1922, p. 144). A tour around Easter in 1926 cost ‘fr. 1200’, with Stan Leurs, engineer and professor art history at the University of Leuven, as a guide (1925, p. 475). 1

References Adam, J.M. (1993) La Description. PUF, Paris. Baedeker, K. (1926) Italien, von den Alpen bis Neapel: kurzes Reisehandbuch, 7th edn. Baedeker, Leipzig. Baudhuin, F. (1931) La Belgique après le centenaire. Editions de la société d’études morales, sociales et juridiques, Louvain. Belpaire, M.E. (1932) Reukwerk. De Warande, Antwerp. Brems, E. (2011) ‘Uw boek ligt in mijn kachel te branden.’ Walschaps Adelaïde als splijtzwam van de katholieke literatuur. Praagse Perspectieven 7, 19–33. Bruner, E. (2005) Culture on Tour. Ethnographies of Travel. University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London. Burdett, C. (2007) Journeys through Fascism. Italian Travel Writing between the Wars. Berghahn Books, New York and Oxford. Burke, K. (2005) The Grand Tour of Europe. Gresham College, London. Butcher, J. (2003) The Moralisation of Tourism. Sun, Sand… and Saving the World? Routledge, London and New York. Carocci, G. (1975) Italian Fascism. Penguin Books, Baltimore. Celis, G. (1928) Naar Rome: reisindrukken. Siffer, Ghent. Celis, G. (1929) Door het kunstrijk Italië: Milanen, Genua, Rome, Assisie, Florentie, Bologna, Venetie, Padua en Verona. G. Celis, Gent, Belgium. Claes, E. (1925) Een klassieke reis in het ‘Schoone Italië’, 2nd edn. S.n, s.l. Deswert, J. (1925) Naar Rome! “Anno Santo”. Van In, Lier, Belgium. Duykers, L. (1933) Aquarellen uit Italië, 2nd edn. Vlaamsche boekencentrale, Antwerpen. Fussell, P. (1980) Abroad. British Literary Traveling between the Wars. Oxford University Press, New York and Oxford. Haeck, H. (1928) De bedevaart van. Toon Verheyen. De Bode van het Hart, Alken.

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Hamon, P. (1993) Du descriptif. Hachette Livre, Paris. HVa (1925) Bravo Vandervelde. Het volk: dagblad voor de arbeiderspartij, 10 October, s.p. HVb (1925) Een nieuw tijdperk in Italië. Het vaderland: staat en letterkundig nieuwsblad, 7 January, s.p. Lambrecht, A. (1928) Naar de Gondelstad. J. Van Lantschoot, Dendermonde, Belgium. Lassels, R. (1670) The voyage of Italy. Available at: https://​ia801904.​us.​archive.​org/​27/​items/​gri_​ 33125009310760/​gri_​33125009310760.​pdf (accessed 28 March 2018). Raymaekers, J. (2012) Congé payé. Op vakantie vanaf de jaren 30. Van Halewyk, Antwerp. Seaton, T. (2009) Thanatourism and its discontents: An appraisal of a decade’s work with some future issues and directions. In: Jamal, T. and Robinson,M. (eds) The SAGE Handbook of Tourism Studies. Sage, London, pp. 521–542. Segers, Y. (2003) Economische groei en levensstandaard. Peeters, Leuven. Simons, J. (1930) In Italië. Davidsfonds, Leuven. Sintobin, T. (2013a) “Ik vrees dat Italië mij op de kop zal vallen” Gerard Walschap als interbellum-toerist. Jaarboek van het Gerard Walschap genootschap 5, 9–46. Sintobin, T. (2013b) Van landlopers en bedelaars. Of: wat toerismestudies en literatuurwetenschap elkaar te vertellen hebben. Praagse perspectieven 8, 53–78. Stonor Saunders, F. (2010) The Woman Who Shot Mussolini. Faber, London. Sweet, R. (2012) Cities and the Grand Tour. The British in Italy, c. 1690–1820. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Syrjämaa, T. (1997) Visitez l’Italie. Italian State Tourist Propaganda Abroad 1919–1943. Anales universitatis turkuensis, Turku. Thans, H. (1937) Vertellen: Derde Deel. St. Franciscus Drukkerij, Mechelen, Belgium. Thans, H. (1938) Door oud en nieuw Italië. George Michiels-Broeders, Tongeren. Thans, H. (1941) Langs heilige bergen (Vertellen: 4). St. Franciscus Drukkerij, Mechelen, Belgium. Timmermans, F. (1926) Naar waar de appelsienen groeien. P.N. Van Kampen & Zoon, Amsterdam. Urry, J. (1990) The Tourist Gaze. Sage, London. Van Hemeldonck, E. and Ramon, F. (1927) Van Toontje die naar Rome ging. Abdij, Averbode, Belgium. Van Hoeck, M. (1928) Schoonheidsvizoenen. Reisindrukken uit Italië. Lecturis & Leeslust, Eindhoven & Antwerpen. Verschaeve, C. (1938) Italië. Studies over kunst. Zeemeeuw, Bruges. Vooruit (1926) De Italiaanse ambassadeur bij Vandervelde. Vooruit, 22 October p. p. 2. Walschap, G. (1998) Brieven I. Nijgh & Van Ditmar, Amsterdam. Wang, N. (2000) Tourism and Modernity. A Sociological Analysis. Emerald, Bingley. World Bank Group (n.d.a) International tourism, number of arrivals. Available at: http://​data.​worldbank.​ org/​indicator/​ST.​INT.​ARVL?​end=​2016&​start=​1995 (accessed 28 March 2018). World Bank Group (n.d.b) International tourism, number of arrivals. Available at: http://​data.​worldbank.​ org/​indicator/​ST.​INT.​ARVL?​end=​2016&​locations=​US&​start=​1995 (accessed 28 March 2018).

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‘Magic Realism’ of Vilnius: Conceptualization of Literary Tourist Gaze Based on Tales of the Old Vilnius by Max Frei

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Nadzeya Charapan1* and Hanna Mikulich2 Uppsala University, Uppsala, Sweden; 2European Humanities University, Vilnius, Lithuania

Introduction Literature has always been a stimulus for imagination and exploration of new spaces. Nowadays, in the era of experience-driven tourism, it possesses a great potential for the diversification of destinations, developing new immersive itineraries, adding new layers of meaning to familiar places, and creating alternative attractions associated with authors and stories. Academic research on literary tourism shows a growing awareness that literature is an important element in the tourism structure (Yiannakis and Davies, 2012; Reijnders et  al., 2015; Topler, 2016). People apply narratives in order to interpret the world around them; in doing so, they create meaning and encourage imagination (Escalas, 2004b; Gretzel et  al., 2006). Literary pilgrims search for ‘a physical body to enable their senses to connect with objects read’ (Robertson and Radford, 2009, p. 206). According to Reijnders (2016, p. 672), ‘the readers/viewers identify with one or more of the characters in the story and in their minds transport themselves into and through this

imaginary world’. When the media tourist finally makes his/her journey, this trip ‘more or less represents a realization of an earlier imaginary journey’ (Laing and Crouch, 2009; Ehn and Löfgren, 2010, p. 142; Adams, 2014, cited in Reijnders, 2016, p. 672). Stories create fictional worlds in imagination and frame a particular literary tourist gaze that structures tourist behaviour during the trip and shapes the perception of place. Nowadays, with the advancements in communication technology, any travel is followed up by experience sharing, mediated through different channels. Smith states that ‘the customary process of reading leading to tourism (“textto-tourism”) can be inverted to an evolution of tourism leading to reading (“tourism-to-text”)’ (Smith, 2012, p. 167). Furthermore, literature not only stimulates the desire to explore the imaginary locations but also generates new textual and visual artefacts of recent experiences, adding an extra metalevel to the literary landscape. Indeed, Lin and Huang, 2006 state that online travel stories appeal to and impress different audiences, and even attract them to plan travel to the destination described within the stories.

*Corresponding author: ​nadzeya.​charapan@​abm.​uu.​se © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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Presuming the popularity of the author or the book, the pendulum ‘text ⇔ tourism’ could spawn the continuous interest in the destination and co-create new features of genius loci, framed by the mixture of literary narratives and post-visit media productions. In literary tourism, stories act as a depot for techniques that would enhance the destination’s semantic context for the tourist; previous textual experience enhances the tourist experience, on the trip, in real time, constructing a supplemental layer of a tourist gaze. This chapter will conceptualize the literary tourist gaze as a particular type of visitor interaction with a space that is fostered by the text and synthesizes new experience-induced media in the aftermath of a literary journey. Green and Brock (2000) claim that the persuasive force of the stories can be revealed through the transition of narratives, creating the feeling of readers’ immersion in the text. The study will contribute to the сollection of literary destinations, focusing on the example of Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania, as presented in the fictional series Tales of the Old Vilnius by Max Frei, and portrayed in the textual corpus of blogs and reviews. The literary tourist gaze will be studied by employing narrative analysis of travelogues, generated by Frei's illusionary Vilnius. This approach prevented the physical intervention of a researcher in the readers’ involvement with and within the literary space, securing the intimacy of the experience. With this goal in mind, ten blogs and travelogues about Vilnius, inspired by Tales of the Old Vilnius, were selected to constitute the empirical background of the study. Before the results of the study can be presented, it is necessary to define a literary tourist gaze.

Literary Tourist Gaze The concept of tourist gaze was invented by sociologist John Urry at the beginning of the experience economy era at the end of the 20th century. Due to the performative turn, the tourist gaze was reconsidered 10 years later in The Tourist Gaze 3.0. Urry and Larsen (2011) define the ‘tourist gaze’ as an organizing principle that structures encounters between

tourists, residents and places, evolving performative, embodied practices, discourses and signs. Tourist gaze shapes a particular way of not only seeing, but experiencing, place. Urry and Larsen outline several important presumptions about the nature and elements of a tourist gaze. First of all is a unique and uncommon character of a place: ‘there must be certain aspects of the place to be visited which distinguish it from what is conventionally encountered in everyday life. Tourism results from a basic binary division between the ordinary and extraordinary’ (Urry and Larsen, 2011). Anticipation, dreaming and imagination, sustained through different media, often define the selection of the places to be gazed upon. Second, ‘the gaze is constructed through signs’ (Urry and Larsen, 2011) or visual clues that make the fabric of spatial semiotics. Tourists read the landscape for signifiers of certain preestablished notions (Culler, 1981), they see ‘objects and especially buildings in part constituted as signs’ (Urry and Larsen, 2011). Third, the gaze is authorized by different discourses, which imply different modes of gazing: ‘With what we call the romantic gaze, solitude, privacy, and a personal, semi-spiritual relationship with the object of the gaze are emphasized. By contrast, what we call collective tourist gaze involves conviviality’ (Urry and Larsen, 2011). These assumptions will be taken as a ground for the conceptualization of the literary tourist gaze. Literature is crucial to meaning-making and interpreting the surrounding world. Stories provide a powerful binding structure for isolated and confusing events, making them meaningful. Fisher (1987) and Vasquez (1993) even claim that people are not originally Homo sapiens, but ‘Homo narrans’ due to their ability to arrange experiences into sequences of events, with characters, and inherently pursue narrative logic to construct meaning. Stories are attributes of illusionary places: they occur and exist in particular spaces, which support the plot of the narrative. The genre of fiction literature claims that the events and characters of the story are imaginative and the readers are attracted by the places where the magical, surreal actions occurred. According to Eco (1986), tourists are fascinated by ‘hyper-real places’, merging mythical characters and their supposed actions into real

‘Magic Realism’ of Vilnius

locations, such as Robin Hood and Sherwood Forest. Herbert (2001) argues that the combination of real and imagined features of a literary destination possesses a special meaning for visitors. Hence, a literary destination could be an ideal place to gaze upon. In literary tourism, narratives act as the primary source of information about a place, stimulating motivation to travel. The narrative creates an augmented reality, adding a supplementary layer of fictional actions from the book that a tourist experiences in a real world. Narratives shape anticipation in travellers about what they will encounter during the trip. The fictional encounters of literary destination are constructed by means of signs, helping visitors to travel and define the spaces. The signs act as building blocks in the semantic fabric of literary tourist gaze, bringing together the fictional and real worlds. Hoppen et  al. (2014) discussed the equal authority of author and reader in constructing literary tourist gaze. She brought together the arguments from Robinson (2002) and Watson and Saunders (2004), stating that ‘an author’s own experience of place is the most obvious foundation for the development of creating writing’; however, ‘it is the reader who interprets the author’s written words into their own vision of reality, and therefore it is also the reader who actually produces the place, not the writer’ (Hoppen et  al., 2014, p. 42). The current study supports Hoppen’s argument about the equality of writer and reader in mediating sense of place. The literary tourist gaze is an intimate, semi-spiritual relationship with the place, featuring a romantic tourist gaze generated by a traveller’s cognition and personal context. In summary, literary tourist gaze can be defined as an organizing principle that arranges the semi-spiritual relationship between literature (a story), a tourist and a place, giving birth to a genius loci. Stories introduce meaningful associations into literary landscapes and shape the way the tourist destination is experienced by tourists and is communicated through their personal narrations. To find out to what extent the assumptions about literary tourist gaze have been actualized, further research is needed into the literary landscapes that are conjured by fictional literary works

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and prompt new textual artefacts of a literature-driven tourism. The literary tourist gaze upon Vilnius framed by Max Frei’s Tales of the Old Vilnius will be studied in visitors’ travelogues, applying narrative analysis from the perspective of spatial, temporal and relational dimensions.

Place, Author and Story: Vilnius, Max Frei and Tales of the Old Vilnius Vilnius is the capital of Lithuania and a popular tourist destination in Eastern Europe – ‘a dynamic city that has something for everyone’ (Vilnius Tourist Information Center, 2017b). The historical centre of Vilnius as an outstanding example of architecture was included into the UNESCO Heritage list in 1994. The city attracts visitors by its special aura, with its cobbled streets, majestic cathedrals and monuments, colourful festivals, an abundance of urban green spaces, and leisure activities. According to UK Post Office’s 9th Annual City Costs Barometer in 2017, its most recent comparative cost analysis list, Vilnius was ranked as the second most affordable city. The diverse tourist attractions, budget appeal and geographical location, with its proximity to the main urban centres in the region (Minsk, Warsaw, Riga), make Vilnius a popular city-break destination for tourists from neighbouring countries (Vilnius Tourist Information Center, 2017a). According to data collected by the Lithuanian Department of Statistics, tourists from Belarus, Russia and Poland held the top five positions in Vilnius tourism statistics in 2012–2017. The Tourist Information Centre has developed more than 20 thematic tours and itineraries around Vilnius, focused on different heritage and themes (for example: ‘Polish Cultural Heritage in Vilnius’, ‘Russian Cultural Heritage in Vilnius’, ‘Jewish Cultural Heritage in Vilnius’, ‘Vilnius Castles and Hills’, ‘Artistic and Romantic Vilnius’). An analysis of the guided tours offered by the Vilnius Tourist Information Centre reveals that only historical novels, such as Silva Rerum by Lithuanian writer Kristina Sabaliauskaitė, are included in the palette of city tours conducted in Lithuanian and primarily targeted at domestic visitors (Vilnius Tourist Information Center, 2017b). Irrespective of the

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diversified tourist attractions, literary heritage is blurred in the official tourist landscape; however, Vilnius as a literary destination has potential for development (Charapan, 2016). Vilnius has become a stage for the stories of Antanas Ramonas, Ričardas Jurgis Kunčinas, Abraham Sutzkever, Czesław Miłosz, Tomas Venclova, Joseph Brodsky, Kristina Sabaliauskaitė, Max Frei, and other writers. In 2011–2015, researchers from Vilnius University attempted to identify different sites and depict various parts of Vilnius found in literature as a part of the project, ‘Geography of Literature: textual territories and imaginative maps’, resulting in ten maps that make reference to fictional characters, events and places where they occurred within Vilnius (Mapping Vilnius Literature, 2011). Due to Vilnius’s popularity as a destination for tourists from neighbouring countries, literary tourism in Vilnius will be traced through the fiction novel Tales of the Old Vilnius by Max Frei, which is written in Russian and attracts readers from the former Soviet countries (Russia, Belarus and Ukraine, in particular). Tales of the Old Vilnius is a series of fantasy novels, telling short stories about the streets of Vilnius. The novel is composed of seven volumes: the first appeared in 2012 (Frei, 2012), the last one was published in 2018, covering the last 15 out of 146 stories of Vilnius’ streets (Frei, 2018). As blogger Liliana noted, in this work Max Frei continues the tradition of the polyphonic novel, started in ‘The Big Dipper’, where the author applied the concept of the Dipper constellation to the map of Europe, travelling to the cities marked with the biggest stars of the constellation, and making stories about them (Liliana, 2017). In Tales of the Old Vilnius, each novel is named after an existing street in Vilnius, has its own story and serves as a specific key to a recognizable landmark, guiding readers through the imaginary depiction of Vilnius. On one hand, the narratives deny a consistent reconstruction of the unified plot of the book; on the other, they expand and supplement each other, creating an illusionary image of Vilnius. The novels are written in the fictional genre, displaying Vilnius as a real but magical place with lots of symbolic signs, strange characters and myths. As Liliana (2017) describes: ‘There’s always something going on in the Old Town of Vilnius. Here, magical

hats fall down on the heads of sad passers-by, mermaids argue with werewolves, dreams constantly throw fun parties, ghosts start scamming with real estates, cats sometimes transform into fiery serpents, coffee shops serve cakes with thunder, and the number of streets keeps changing’. Although the novel is full of topographical details of the contemporary Vilnius (for example, Gediminas’ Tower of the Upper Castle, Church of St Anne, speed bumps in Gaono Street, Užupio picerija [Eng. Užupis pizza restaurant]), the text avoids didactic, detailed depictions of specific urban sites, focusing mostly on the plot and the characters of the tales. The protagonist of the novels is Vilnius, full of imaginary characters, illusionary signs, magic rituals, strange traditions and beautiful legends. As Lebedushkina (2012) notices, in Tales of the Old Vilnius the layer of existential experience, as tracing paper, resembles the shapes of the city’s topography, generating new plots. The fictional narratives are intertwined in the real physical localities of contemporary Vilnius, creating the feeling of magical realism and enabling tourists to validate the narratives of Max Frei. Max Frei is a pen-name of Svetlana Martynchik, a Ukrainian fantasy writer, who moved to Vilnius in 2004 and is currently residing in Lithuania. She writes in Russian, and her fantasy novels have been a literary sensation in Russia since their debut in 1996. The first volume of the Tales of the Old Vilnius, issued in 2012, received broad discussion in the media. The presentation of the first book was held in the House of Jurgis Baltrušaitis in Moscow in April 2012 and was accompanied by a thematic photo exhibition. The literary tourist gaze upon Vilnius, framed by the popularized Tales of the Old Vilnius, will be discussed based on the lived experiences of Max Frei’s readers and literary-driven tourists.

Narrative Analysis, Blogs and Readers The empirical data for the study was obtained from literary forums with reviews, blogs, travelogues and forums about Vilnius, as portrayed in the tales of Max Frei, and the reviewers’ and bloggers’ experiences. Blogs and travelogues can be defined as textual artefacts of travel experiences.

‘Magic Realism’ of Vilnius

Robinson (2004) claims that writing about travel experience is as old as travel itself. In blogs, experiences are organized in thematically and temporally related episodes. According to Banyal and Glover, ‘Blogs offer the possibility to reveal tourists’ interpretations of tourism products and experiences, and to express tourists’ impressions, perceptions, thoughts, and feelings, all that may otherwise not be revealed in more constrained research environments such as interviews’ (Banyai and Glover, 2012, p. 268). Since the literary tourist gaze incorporates a semi-spiritual intimate connection between the tourist, place and story, the constraint-free environment is vitally important for the credibility of the results. Narrative analysis as a research method will be used to obtain insights into literary-touristconstructed identities, meaning-making associated with the experiences of a literary place, as well as temporal, spatial and causal dimensions of the literary tourist gaze. The data sample was selected from blogs, mostly ​livejournal.​com, devoted to Vilnius and Tales of the Old Vilnius by Max Frei. Ten blogs were selected based on their titles, including the name of the book (for example, Following the steps of Tales of the Old Town of Vilnius), quotes or links to the book in the text, or mentioning the signs from the book in their writings. Specifically, data were collected from the blogs, written in 2012–2016; however, in spite of the fact that four volumes have already been published, literary tourists are mostly driven by the stories of the first volume. It should be mentioned that eight blogs were written by women and two blogs belong to men. Apart from text, the blogs also include photos associated with the stories, which will be presented below. Following the concept of narrative structure suggested by Escalas (2004a, b), the narrative analysis will be applied through deconstruction from the spatial dimension, causal organization and temporal categorization. The temporal and spatial dimensions of a narrative process are based on the assumption that events occur over time and in particular locales. The relational or causal organization of ‘goals-actions-outcomes’ (Escalas, 2004a) reveals why and how the bloggers perform their actions, and how these actions resemble the behaviour of the characters in the novels of Max Frei. The analysis process involved deconstructing the stories into episodes, coding these quotations and interpreting the relationships between the

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codes and the connection to the plot of the novels from the threefold approach.

Spatial dimension: Focused and scattered literary gaze The narrative structure of the blogs can be deconstructed based on the tourists’ movement through space and time. According to Tussyadiah and Fesenmaier (2008, p. 304), ‘Tourists’ movements can be seen as a dynamic process that is characterized by spatial and temporal references and attributable components (i.e. nature of the place visited)’. Max Frei portrays Vilnius as a magic and mystical place, full of wonders and signs, embedded into the city’s topography. Hence, the attributable components of the fictional place will unfold the spatial movements of the visitors. Since the tales are in the style of a polyphonic novel, where every chapter has its own story located in a particular street of Vilnius, the itineraries of the bloggers have no universal scenario; instead, readers stroll around the city, visiting particular streets of their choice, searching for the signs and characters described in the Tales of the Old Vilnius. The narratives of the blogs of Adarchenko (2016), Chuiko (2013) and Irialonna (2015) reveal that readers construct the itinerary by following the visual signs from the augmented reality created by the book and applying them to the real physical locations around the city. Generally, the blog entry consists of several episodes, resembling the streets and its signs, characters and symbols. The structure of the episode includes the title of the street, which acts as a symbolic signifier of the location; a short citation from the book related to the place, establishing a metalevel of the literary gaze; a photo of the visual clue or the place mentioned in the citation, which serves as material evidence or a bridge between fiction and reality; and, finally, a short comment as a conclusion about the extent of the correspondence between these two levels of place perception, which plays the primary role in the overall creation of the genius loci. Furthermore, the structure of the blog entry is predominantly visual, with the abundance of photos as a proof of the magical character of the space.

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Literary-driven tourists often use the book as a travel guide around the fictional Vilnius (‘following the advice of a fairytale guide’ Adarchenko, 2016), seeking the illusionary evidence of the city and getting the feeling of ‘magical realism’ (Burmina, 2014). The level of general satisfaction with the trip and the character of the genius loci is directly proportional to the quality and quantity of the material evidence, expressed by the comparative nature of the comments about the visual signs constantly presented in the blogs. For example, Adarchenko (2016) notices the ginger colour of Vilnele: ‘it is true ginger’, just as it was mentioned in the tales. With the obsession to experience the magic of Vilnius and find every single sign recalled in the book, bloggers often include short explanations or redirect attention to other signs or visual clues, replacing the authentic missing evidence with the semantically similar one. For example, Chuiko (2013), when visiting Skapo Street, tries to find the ears of the golden hare on house number 8 as a symbol of luck; however, since

she didn’t find them, the blogger redirected her attention to the picture of bear ears, admiring the beauty of the picture (Fig. 2.1): ‘The ears of the Golden hare, which bring luck, did not appear in the windows of the house No. 8. Instead, we admired the ears of the white bear. Who said that the ears of white bear are worse than hare’s ones? I have not heard anything about it before’ (Chuiko, 2013). A similar strategy to the fictional visual signs is found in the blog by Adarchenko (2016), when she does not find the ears of the golden hare but instead notices the ‘sun twinkle’ that revealed one more wonder of the street: the clay bells – a magical symbol of Skapo Street: ‘While we were trying to find the ears of the Golden hare, the sun twinkle was caught by our sight, making us turn away from the windows and see one more street miracle. There was a garland with the hand-made clay bells’ (Fig.  2.2). Poplavskaya (2014) is trying to meet the symbol of luck – a rare invisible bird Svella, which sometimes appears at Latako Street; instead of the magical creature, she

Fig. 2.1.  The graffiti of the white bear as a sign of luck.

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Fig. 2.2.  The garland of hand-made clay bells.

emphasizes graffiti on the wall: ‘Я люблю тебя’, which means ‘I love you’ in Russian, and is positively surprised by this beautiful confession of love in the middle of Vilnius. Most of the episodes in the blogs contain detailed descriptions of the clues assigned to particular localities and streets, leading to the focused literary tourist gaze. The fictional characters of the stories provide space for the freedom of imagination, leading to semiotic ambiguity when one sign was replaced by the other as proof of the fairy tales. Furthermore, bloggers do it intentionally, providing justification for their behaviour and choices. Striving for the magic and feeling of travel in the fairy tale makes them tolerant to Vilnius and its imaginary signs that appear all over the city alongside the bloggers. The approach to genius loci can be revealed through the scattered literary gaze, the opposite of the focused gaze, depicting the general magical aura of the place, enhanced by the signs, characters and places dispersed all over the city (for example, cats, angels, cafés, coffee shops, courtyards, shops), and hyperbolizing their meanings. Several blogs (Takasa, 2013; Belomestnova, 2015; Chuiko, 2013; Marshavin,

2015; Luchar, 2014) portray the weather, mood and atmosphere, characters and symbols, unexpectedly captured during the walk through Vilnius. For example, Marshavin (2015) and Takasa (2013) express their appreciation of the small cobbled streets, tiny coffee shops, and the musicians and artists that inhabit Vilnius: ‘All these streets and yards, tiny cafés, which are not simple to be found, hills and rivers, Uzupis, artists, musicians and poets’ (Takasa, 2013). Belomestnova (2015) and Chuiko (2013) mention the cats, which have a special mission in the city to collect dreams for their owners: ‘And who knows, may be among all these cats met there was one who collects vivid dreams for its master’ (Chuiko, 2013). The aroma of coffee and coffee-shops have a constant presence throughout the whole six volumes of the stories, evoking the sensory perception of the space and creating the immediate connection between the place and the readers (Fig.  2.3). Following the stories of Max Frei, tourists often blur the negative attributes of the trip, like rainy weather, explaining its nature as a part of the story, when the weather is a play of two characters and the outcome of this play

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Fig. 2.3.  Coffee Inn as sensory recall of coffee.

is never predictable, like the weather in Vilnius: ‘It’s a game of two fellows, and one never knows who will win, whether a kind soul or jesting fellow, who is striving to pour over with rain’ (Fig.  2.4) (Chuiko, 2013). The anthropomorphism and allegory of the Tales of the Old Vilnius, as well as their implementation by means of familiar scenes, feelings, creatures and explanations, shape the overall magical theme of the place, constituting the scattered literary tourist gaze upon the destination. The temporal categorization of the blogs is grounded in the chronological order of the episodes and the period of the day (Tussyadiah and Fesenmaier, 2008). Due to the fact that temporality is not widely articulated in the Tales of the Old Vilnius and every story possesses its own sequences of actions, the bloggers don’t usually indicate the time of the episode happening, except for the story at Šv. Jono Street with the lamplighter, who carries the street lamp at night, and the sun during the daytime, as noted by Poplavskaya (2014).

Fig. 2.4.  Rainy weather as an outcome of a game.

The combination of focused and scattered literary tourist gazes enables visitors to achieve a sense of credibility of the reality of fictional stories, by placing the augmented layer of illusionary signs into the definite locations and forming the general image of the destination. The feelings of belief and trust bring readers to the world of fairy tales, make the experience and co-create the wonder, leading to empathy and sympathy as an emotional response to the genius loci.

Relational organization: Performing the gaze Space plays the initial role in shaping the literary tourist gaze, featuring the imaginative and real physical places. The spatial dimension of tourists’ blogs reveals the power of the literary sign to constitute the fabric of the itinerary, providing the evidence of the fictional stories and enabling visitors to follow and experience the fairy tale.

‘Magic Realism’ of Vilnius

As Tussyadiah and Fesenmaier (2008, p. 306) suggest, narratives can be deconstructed through the causal organization of ‘goals-actions-outcomes’. This approach helps blog readers ‘to understand the plot by associating the process of justification in their minds: why and how well the characters perform their actions’ (p. 306), attaching meaning to the experiences in the stories. Literary-driven tourists are generally following the footsteps of the protagonist or other characters during the trip, as claimed by Adams (2014) and Ehn and Löfgren (2010). In this case, the relational organization of the literary gaze resembles the plot of the narrative, providing the tourist with the possibility to switch the identity and re-experience the imaginary journey in reality. Since Vilnius acts as a protagonist in the Tales of the Old Vilnius and every novel has its own story, the relational organization of literary tourist gaze could not be brought about by emulating the actions of the main characters. Furthermore, Vilnius is portrayed by Max Frei as a place without any system or any rational rules; instead, the author repeats: ‘Vilnius is full of space!’ A lot of events happen due to the irrational, magic power of the space. Thus, the characters’ actions are often strange, foolish and

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illogical; however, the fictional stories are not questioned by the readers, compared to the historical narratives. The relational deconstruction of blog entries reveals that the tourists adhere exactly to the magical rituals mentioned in the book to make wonders happen. Since tourists easily find or artificially construct the physical evidence of the magical realism, they implicitly follow the illusionary traditions of Max Frei. For example, bloggers visit Visų Šventujų Street, where according to the plot one can get answers to important questions from passers-by (Kolegova, 2016). Indeed, Poplavskaya (2014) enters the street and hears the phrase: ‘We are the best of friends!’, and justifies the answer by bringing up the issue with her friend. Hence, the bloggers adjust their activities to the particular patterns of the novels. Also, Chuiko (2013) visits Gaono Street just to greet speed bumps as a sign of respect to allegorical characters Arvydas and Albertas from the tales (Fig. 2.5). Also, resembling the plot of the novel Khalva in chocolate, Chuiko (2013) copies the behaviour of the main heroine of the novel, leaving old shoes on the bridge as a symbol of the past in order to enter new ways and open new horizons: ‘In my view, it is a symbolic act to take off the old shoes and say goodbye to the old ways’ (Fig. 2.6) (Chuiko, 2013).

Fig. 2.5.  Speed bumper as a symbol of Arvydas and Albertas.

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Fig. 2.6.  The old shoes as a symbol of the past.

‘Magic Realism’ of Vilnius

Also, many readers clearly claim their spiritual connection to the place, following favourite stories and unfolding the magical realism of Vilnius. They express the need for intimacy and comfort while re-experiencing the stories and co-creating the sense of place. Therefore, they prefer to gaze upon the literary Vilnius alone or in the company of a close friend, without any guided tours and groups: ‘And, without any walking tours, just lonely stroll along the town’ (Burmina, 2014), ‘I like so much to hang around the town alone … being with it alone’ (Takasa, 2013). Hence, the romantic literary gaze is prevailing in their semi-spiritual connections with the place.

Conclusions In this study, there was an attempt to conceptualize a literary tourist gaze as a particular genre of threefold mediation between literature, tourist and a place, employing narrative analyses of tourists’ blogs and travelogues as first-hand experience of the place. With that goal in mind, ten blogs featuring The Tales of the Old Vilnius by Max Frei were selected for the evaluation of the literary tourists’ gaze of fictional Vilnius. Although ten is a limited and not representative number for a sample of the global population, several tentative conclusions may be obtained. First, the study shows that a fictional story with detailed, well-written signs or physical attributes of the place can increase readers’ interest in the place and invites tourists to be performative, exploring new dimensions of the space. The process of the literary tourist gaze co-creation could be explained by adopting Shannon–Weaver’s model of communication (Shannon–Weaver Model of Communication, 1948), given the supremacy of two main actors: a sender and a receiver, or an author and a reader. The author communicates particular coded meanings to a reader through the fictional story (medium), then a reader decodes these meanings into narratives through the prism of personal context and experience, using a sense of place to probe the literary fictional connotations during the trip; shifting the identify from the reader to a tourist; and, finally, the tourist

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communicates the memories of the visited destinations through their own interpretations, in the form of textual and graphic collections, transferring their identity as a tourist into that of an author, co-creating and contributing to the literary landscape of the place. Second, ‘literary gaze’ defines the spatial, relational and temporal dimensions of a literary tourist gaze. Since the study is focused on the fictional series Tales of the Old Vilnius, the literary tourist gaze is framed by the fictional literature. The spatial categorization determines the flow of the itinerary and the selection of locations. The scattered literary gaze creates the mood and theme of the place. The bloggers express their connection to the place and special, magical aura of Vilnius, based on the illusionary descriptions, that evokes the existential level of sense of place during the trip. Together with that, the focused literary tourist gaze emphasizes the explicit power of the signs and visual clues from the story, shaping the milestones of a trip and providing evidence of the magic realism of fictional narratives. Indeed, instead of visiting popular tourist attractions, the literary-driven pilgrims are attracted to the locales and symbols that are important for the plot and the characters. Thus, the hunger for the mystery forces them to apply semiotic equivocation to the signs and symbols to support this positive fairy aura of the place. Finally, the narrative analysis of causal categorization reveals that tourist behaviour was orchestrated by the supernatural symbolism and existence of illusionary characters from the fictional novels of Max Frei. The readers transmit the narrative meanings to the real environment, building semantic bridges between the augmented world and real physical environment. The readers are constantly balancing reality with its enhancement by the imaginary world of the book, recalling the stories and following fictional rituals and traditions. Thus, the overall satisfaction with the trip is directly proportional to the tourists’ ability to define the symbolic signs, and the quality signs elaborated on in the book and physically embodied in the space. Besides these tentative conclusions, the study reveals the necessity for further research of the literary tourist gaze shaped by

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different literary genres (non-fictional writing, for example) and mediated through channels. Study of the literary tourist gaze, to which this chapter has contributed, is one of the many

directions for further investigation of the operating principles of the ‘literature tourism’ pendulum that provides an abundance of new scenarios and meanings.

Acknowledgement All photos by Liubov Kuskova (Chuiko).

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Irialonna (2015) Сказки старого Вильнюса. l​ivejournal.​com, 4 May. Available at: http://​irialonna.​livejournal.​com/​229118.​html (accessed 10 October 2017). Kolegova, O. (2016) Сказки новогоднего Вильнюса. ​livejournal.​com, 12 January. Available at: http://​ koleva-​olga.​livejournal.​com/​118356.​html (accessed 20 October 2017). Laing, J.H. and Crouch, G.I. (2009) Exploring the role of the media in shaping motivations behind frontier travel experiences. Tourism Analysis 14(2), 187–198. DOI: 10.3727/108354209789116547. Lebedushkina, O. (2012) Европа как судьба и ностальгия. «Дружба Народов» 2012, No. 7. Available at: http://​magazines.​russ.​ru/​druzhba/​2012/​7/​l21-​pr.​html (accessed 23 September 2017). Liliana, N. (2017) Review: Max Frei, ‘Old Vilnius’ Tales’. Vol. 5, Blog, 9 March, 2017. Available at: https://​ liliananbookish.​wordpress.​com/​tag/​max-​frei/ (accessed 23 September 2017). Lin, Y.-S. and Huang, J.-Y. (2006) Internet blogs as a tourism marketing medium: A case study. Journal of Business Research 59(10–11), 1201–1205. DOI: 10.1016/j.jbusres.2005.11.005. Luchar (2014) Еще про Вильнюс. ​livejournal.​com 11 March. Available at: http://​luchar.​livejournal.​com/​ 182723.​html (accessed 16 September 2017). Mapping Vilnius Literature (2011) Available at: http://www.​vilniusliterature.​flf.​vu.​lt/​en/?​page_​id=​18 (accessed 10 September 2017). Marshavin, D. (2015) Вильнюс | Vilnius. Путешествия в фотографиях. Available at: http://www.​marshavin.​com/?​p=​2905 (accessed 11 October 2017). Poplavskaya, A. (2014) По улицам старого Вильнюса со «Сказками» Макса Фрая. ​livejournal.​com, 22 September. Available at: http://​paplauskaja.​livejournal.​com/​611607.​html (accessed 10 October 2017). Reijnders, S., Bolderman, L., Van Es, N. and Waysdorf, A. (2015) Locating imagination: an interdisciplinary perspective on literary, film, and music tourism. Tourism Analysis 20(3), 333–339. DOI: 10.3727/108 354215X14356694891979. Reijnders, S. (2016) Stories that move: fiction, imagination, tourism. European Journal of Cultural Studies 19(6), 672–689. Robertson, J.P. and Radford, L.A. (2009) The private uses of quiet grandeur: A meditation on literary pilgrimage. Changing English 16(2), 203–209. DOI: 10.1080/13586840902863186. Robinson, M. (2002) Between and beyond the pages: Literature–tourism relationships. In: Robinson, M. and Andersen,H.C. (eds) Literature and Tourism. Continuum, London, pp. 39–79. Robinson, M. (2004) Narratives of being elsewhere: tourism and travel writing. In: Lew, A.A., Hall, C.M. and Williams,A.M. (eds) A Companion to Tourism. Blackwell, Malden, MA, pp. 303–315. Shannon–Weaver Model of Communication (1948) Available at: http://​communicationtheory.​org/​shannon-​and-​weaver-​model-​of-​communication/ (accessed 18 October 2017). Smith, Y. (2012) Literary tourism as a developing genre: South Africa’s potential. Doctoral dissertation. Takasa (2013) Про космический Вильнюс или Vilnius full of space. ​livejournal.​com, 19 January. Available at: http://​ru-​travel.​livejournal.​com/​24106623.​html (accessed 18 October 2017). Topler, J.P. (2016) Literary tourism in Slovenia: the case of the Prezihov Voranc cottage. Informatologia 49(3/4), 129. Tussyadiah, I.P. and Fesenmaier, D.R. (2008) Marketing places through first‐person stories – an analysis of Pennsylvania Roadtripper Blog. Journal of Travel & Tourism Marketing 25(3–4), 299–311. DOI: 10.1080/10548400802508358. Urry, J. and Larsen, J. (2011) The Tourist Gaze 3.0. Sage, London. Vasquez, G.M. (1993) A Homo Narrans paradigm for public relations: Combining Bormann’s symbolic convergence theory and Grunig’s situational theory of publics. Journal of Public Relations Research 5(3), 201–216. DOI: 10.1207/s1532754xjprr0503_03. Vilnius Tourist Information Center (2017a) City tourism statistics. Available at: http://www.​vilnius-​tourism.​ lt/​en/​travel-​trade/​tourism-​statistics/​city-​tourism-​statistics/ (accessed 10 September 2017). Vilnius Tourist Information Center (2017b) Vilnius is tops among EU capital cities offering value to visitors. Available at: http://www.​vilnius-​tourism.​lt/​en/​vilnius-​is-​tops-​among-​eu-​capital-​cities-​offering-​value-​ to-​visitors/ (accessed 16 October 2017). Watson, C. and Saunders, R. (2004) The production of literary landscapes. In: Robinson, M. and Picard,D. (eds) Tourism & Literature. Travel, Imagination & Myth (CD-ROM). Hallam University, Sheffield. Yiannakis, J.N. and Davies, A. (2012) Diversifying rural economies through literary tourism: a review of literary tourism in Western Australia. Journal of Heritage Tourism 7(1), 33–44. DOI: 10.1080/1743873X.2011.618538.

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Visionary Trends in Jules Verne’s The Floating Island

Klaus Pfatschbacher* University of Applied Sciences IMC-KREMS, Krems an der Donau, Austria

Introduction When we deal with tourism and literature, we have to become aware of the fact that we are analysing signs that refer to a touristic phenomenon. Thanks to these elements, we can find a touristic gaze (cf. Urry and Larsen, 2011, p. 198), which reveals a lot about people’s attitudes towards travel. Such a semiotic approach helps us to encapsulate what really counts in tourism and provides, especially experts, an overview of predominant values and different types of taste. By elucidating them, researchers may gain valuable insights comparable to surveys, interviews and statistics. Literature can thus partly replace quantitative studies, particularly if we place the analysis in a diachronic view that permits a better evaluation of one particular author. In our case we will emphasize Jules Verne, who anticipates much of the modern touristic gaze of the 21st century. To better gauge what this special look consists of, we will confront the author with Montaigne’s journal (16th century), Bernardin de Saint Pierre’s pre-romantic novel Paul et Virginie (1788) (illustrating Rousseau’s philosophy) and Stevenson’s Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes (1907). These authors each represent one specific way of depicting landscapes and rendering a region touristically interesting. As a consequence, Verne’s statements emerge as more

tangible: thanks to the different comparisons, his touristic gaze becomes more relevant and can show more about our modern age and corresponding future developments. During the Renaissance period, travel was about learning; diverse travel journals aimed to inform the public about habits and customs in interesting cities and regions all across Europe. One of the most famous texts was written by Michel de Montaigne, the author of numerous philosophical essays: he describes the routes he has to embark on to cure his illnesses in Italian spas, for instance. Montaigne’s observations seem to be fact-orientated and are aimed at triggering reflections on societal developments and tendencies. The touristic gaze thus turns to knowledge and is marked by a very rational angle, which corresponds to the fact that, in the 16th century, travel was basically targeting rich aristocrats (looking for remedies/therapies or engaging in pilgrimages) and failed to be a mass phenomenon. In the following extract the rational aspect becomes manifest: From answers to certain questions he put, M. Montaigne gathered that there was in Basle considerable religious discord, some calling themselves Zwinglians, some Calvinists, and others Martinists, while many, as he was informed, had in their hearts a hidden liking for the Roman religion. The ordinary form of administering the sacrament is to place it in

*​k.​pfatschbacher@​gmx.​at 28

© CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

Visionary Trends in Jules Verne’s The Floating Island

the mouth, but at the same time any one, who so wishes, may reach out his hand for it, the ministers being chary of stirring up afresh the antagonisms of religion. The interiors of the churches are like those I have heretofore described. The exteriors are still garnished with images and with ancient tombs unmutilated, and inscribed with prayers for the souls of the departed. (de Montaigne, 2016, p. 508)

In the late 18th century, attention is drawn to a different dimension of travelling: the tourist now looks at the romantic side of a trip and admires nature; the visitors try to project their feelings into their surroundings. A landscape is, for example, now seen as a calming object that exerts a soothing influence on the beholder. Apart from exotic impressions, which underline interest in discoveries of unusual plants and extraordinary sceneries, terms such as peace and calm dominate. Tourism is thus again placed in a context of individual awareness. The often quite lonely traveller discovers his/her own mind; the outcome of travelling resides in something very private. Tourism in this period has consequently – despite the flourishing tradition of the Grand Tour – not achieved the position of an outstanding factor in society, which could potentially impact the GDP of a country: At the entrance of the valley which presents the various objects, the echoes of the mountain incessantly repeat the hollow murmurs of the winds that shake the neighbouring forests, and the tumultuous dashing of the waves which break at a distance upon the cliffs; but near the ruined cottages all is calm and still, and the only objects which there meet the eye are rude steep rocks, that rise like a surrounding rampart. Large clumps of trees grow at their base, on their rifted sides, and even on their majestic tops, where the clouds seem to repose. The showers, which their bold points attract, often paint the vivid colours of the rainbow on their green and brown declivities, and swell the sources of the little river which flows at their feet, called the river of Fan-Palms. Within this inclosure reigns the most profound silence. The waters, the air, all the elements are at peace. (Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, 1788)

A completely different look at tourism is taken by Robert Louis Stevenson, Verne’s contemporary. Despite living in the same period as the French author, he does not really deliver a fashionable and comprehensive picture of travel that could

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even foresee tendencies of the future. On the contrary, he is primarily interested in his own physical and psychological condition: he depicts exactly how he is faring when crossing southern parts of France on a donkey. He does not refrain from elucidating every single detail of his reactions in periods of difficulty; for instance, his anger when it comes to attaching his baggage to the animal: It was blazing hot up the valley, windless, with vehement sun upon my shoulders; and I had to labour so consistently with my stick that the sweat ran into my eyes. Every 5 minutes, too, the pack, the basket, and the pilot-coat would take an ugly slew to one side or the other; and I had to stop Modestine, and take just when I had got her to a tolerable pace of about two miles an hour, to tug, push, shoulder, and readjust the load. And at last, in the village of Ussel, saddle and all, the whole hypothec turned round and groveled in the dust below the donkey’s belly. She, none better pleased, incontinently drew up and seemed to smile; and a party of one man, two women, and two children came up, and standing me in a half circle, encouraged her by their example. I had the devil’s own trouble to get the thing righted; and the instant I had done so, without hesitation, it toppled and fell down upon the other side. Judge if I was hot. (Stevenson, 1907, p. 129)

Such a nuanced image corresponds to the autobiographical motive of Stevenson; his touristic gaze does not go beyond the immediate reactions to events. Travel has not reached a kind of autonomous value with a broader societal impact; it is the individual that counts. Signs of travel reveal a lot about the personality of the traveller, but do not convey sufficient signs of an economic or social tissue. Consequently, we have to seriously appreciate Verne’s contribution to tourism, which, in terms of semiotics, conveys all the elements experts need to review the challenges of the travel business nowadays.

The Floating Island Verne’s The Floating Island (Ile à hélice) epitomizes our current tourism industry; it symbolizes its opportunities, but also confronts society with its

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dangers. We may even go so far as to maintain that, already in the 19th century, Verne's work puts into fictitious practice what many tourismrelated textbooks nowadays explain in theory. The scope of interest pertains to different dimensions, such as the production of energy, mass communication, target groups, entertainment, sustainable production of food, social peace and coherency, transport, the perfect accommodation, innovation or speculation. A whole world of tourism emerges in Verne’s novel, which remains relatively unknown among the works of the French science-fiction author, who is particularly renowned for texts such as 20,000 Leagues under the Sea, Five Weeks in a Balloon or Around the World in Eighty Days. What many readers neglect is the fact that Verne has acquired a profound knowledge of tourism thanks to his thorough readings of then current scientific, economic and travel-related documents as preparation for the writing process. As a consequence, we should look for touristic visions in his extraordinary series of novels, particularly The Floating Island. The following questions should be answered: a. Which categories of tourism does Verne deal with? b. What priorities does he set in the travel industry? c. Which touristic visions become manifest in The Floating Island? d. Which negative aspects surface in the relevant business? Our approach inscribes itself in the context of narrations. They serve as a backdrop, helping to measure how far the current service industry has gone, if it has transgressed boundaries that endanger our world, oppresses large parts of the population worldwide or fosters inequality. Critics might state that the subjective scope seems to be predominant, preventing researches from drawing relevant conclusions. Such a position can be refuted if we consider the vast amount of Verne’s text production; numerous narratives (about 60 novels) add up to a threedimensional picture of profound expert knowledge that offers guidelines in a time of trouble. In other words, the 21st-century touristic economy needs comparisons with past narrative constructions in order to better grasp its flaws and take corresponding measures. These will be

summarized at the end of our chapter to give an overview of what we can really learn from the French science fiction author.

Target Group As indicated above, Verne behaves as a visionary writer and has anticipated so much of the years to come. Nowadays we can, for example, foresee a tendency favouring the luxury segment of business; it is a sector that resists even in times of crises, as we noticed in 2008. The best illustration in this respect relates to all the efforts made by Dubai, which did not attract masses of clients two decades ago. However, thanks to a luxury segment programme targeting the affluent, Dubai has turned the tide and changed into a hub where the rich mingle. This is partly due to the construction of an artificial island that provides space for luxury resorts, shopping malls and stunning and extraordinary buildings (such as one of the tallest hotels in the world). As a result, the rich feel at ease and do not hesitate to flock to the newly created tourist destination. Verne had already imagined a similar scenario back in the 19th century, thus predicting which way the travel business should go. In Ile à hélice, the tourist experts cater to the richest Americans. They spend their long-term holidays on an artificial island built out of steel and iron. This island floats on the shores of the Pacific and even allows its inhabitants to go on longer excursions. These people constitute a very coherent entity, in terms of income, origin and religion. They either speak English or French, are Catholics or Protestants and can boast of gigantic financial resources largely based on entrepreneurship. Verne portrays a functioning microcosm that assembles American VIPs who are proud of their European ancestry. This, however, entails a very significant social flaw: large groups of the population are excluded, tourism confirms social inequalities and just panders to the rich. The gap between the upper and the lower end of society is widening. The following extract illustrates the stated tendency of developing luxurious offers for the rich, projects that result from technological progress and exclusively attract the millionaires:

Visionary Trends in Jules Verne’s The Floating Island

At this period the world was still waiting for the audacious statistical geographer who could give the exact number of the islands scattered over the face of the globe. The number, we may make bold to say, would amount to many thousands. Among all these islands was there not one that answered the requirements of the founders of Floating Island, and the wants of its future inhabitants? No, not one. Hence this peculiarly American notion of making an island which would be the latest and greatest thing in construction. Floating Island was an island worked by screws. Milliard City was its capital. Why this name? Evidently because the capital was the town of the millionaires, a Gouldian, Vanderbiltian, Rothschildian City. (Verne, 2012, chapter 5)

Water How does Verne imagine his tourist destination in the context of resources? Providing the island with drinking water or energy seems to be of outstanding importance. And Verne knows how to make his artificial island really independent. This paradise of the rich does not need to count on the help of certain providers on the continent; quite the contrary, they produce water on their own. It is distilled and completely based on the ingenuity of engineers working for the island. They do not reveal the secret recipe of this artificial production. However, the result proves to be successful and completely satisfies the consumers, who do not refrain from praising it explicitly and can also enjoy self-made rain. Although this aspect comes close to real science fiction, it must nevertheless be considered an essential factor of Verne’s touristic vision. Resorts must not depend on anyone. They should act self-reliantly in order not to be influenced by external circumstances, such as political turmoil – an element that has gained extreme importance nowadays (think of the upheaval in Turkey, for example). Verne thus sees destinations as cut-off entities that decide everything on their own. Such an attitude is made possible thanks to the integration of the latest technology available. This approach also allows an efficient production of energy in a gigantic factory that includes ultra-modern generators and works with unusual resources such as helitium. All in all, Verne paints a futuristic

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vision that acts as a well-functioning backdrop to tourism on a self-reliant island: How was enough fresh water procured for the wants of the island? It was made by distillation in two special establishments, and was brought in pipes to the inhabitants of Milliard City, or led under the fields and country around. In this way it was provided for house and street service, and fell in … rain on the fields and lawns, which were thus independent of the caprices of the sky. And not only was this water fresh, it was distilled, electrolyzed, more hygienic than the purest springs of both continents, of which a drop the size of a pin’s head may contain fifteen milliards of microbes. (Verne, 2012, chapter 5)

Transport Verne goes for three types of transport: it should be shared, it is stunning and it is based on the latest technology, thus achieving a level of innovation that goes far beyond all expectations. What does this description look like in real life? Verne especially designs means of public transport in his novel. He does not advocate individual concepts of traffic; although just the affluent people populate his island, he does not grant them personalized cars or machines for speeding. Quite the contrary, he wants them to stay in touch with the others when they travel on the island. This does not really spark any difficulties as visitors spend time in some outstanding space: either they move along on moving sidewalks or they cover distances from A to B in luxurious electric trams. Such an atmosphere compensates for potential tension that might be caused during a trip. And it reflects a tendency that shapes tourism at the beginning of the 21st century: the sharing economy, which seems to have stemmed from the past and which is likely to affect the next decades of tourism (Airbnb, Uber). What else anticipates the future in Ile à hélice? Verne renders his sidewalks and the tram really spectacular. They should astonish visitors and act as a real sight. At the same time, they should remain functional and deliver a real service of transportation. The author consequently assembles opposing perspectives: the gigantic technological dimension aimed at impressing

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tourists and the more practical but necessary perspective of taking them around the island. As already indicated, such a concept of transportation is only due to the integration of visionary technology. In Verne’s eyes, tourism can only progress if it constantly follows change, innovation and even fosters and supports modifications. Tourism should act as an energetic force that drives the change, providing scientists with requests, projects and offers (like travelling to space nowadays). This will attract attention and lead to the necessary headlines worldwide in order to boost the travelling sector. Quite visionary, isn’t it? In the following, the reader gets an impression of a ride in the luxurious tram: ‘Gentlemen, the tram starts in a few minutes. Let us be off to the harbour.’ … The artists, rather perplexed, sat down on the seats of an elegant car, in which were several other passengers, all of whom shook hands with Munbar, who seemed to know everybody, and then the dynamos of the train began to drive them along. That which Munbar called a park was the country extending round the city. There were paths running out of sight, and verdant lawns, and painted barriers … (Verne, 2012, chapter 5)

Self-Reliance and Professionalism The tourists who go on a journey on Verne’s island do not need to rely on help coming from the continent. It is managed professionally, thus the responsible employees have provided an infrastructure including bakeries, dairies and butcheries. Everything is produced on location, distances are kept short, sustainability has already been put into practice. However, the managers do not want to completely do without continental assistance. The island is linked to the mainland with a really resistant rope, several thousand kilometres long. This somehow serves as a kind of insurance: if a tragic incident happened, the staff can still call upon a team remaining in California. So Verne’s type of tourism even offers a security package. The rich and the affluent residing

there count on everything to be arranged without anything to fear. This goes hand in hand with political stability. As the population consists of homogeneous groups, decisions for the community are taken without any dissent, local management does not pose any real problems and the general situation seems peaceful. Proudly the inhabitants of the island call themselves people of Milliard City and Standard Island. The latter name is typical of the overall goal of life on the artificial piece of land: everything has to function perfectly and correspond to well-defined standards in various respects. In the following extract, the professional management becomes astonishingly tangible; security is guaranteed thanks to highly paid officers, a cohesive structure of the population is provided and the necessary luxurious appliances and facilities are at the clients’ disposal: From the outset the financial side of the enterprise had been kept well in view. The hotels and houses had been let at fabulous prices. The rents amounted to millions, and many of the families could without inconvenience afford this payment for annual lodging. Hence, under this head alone the Company secured a good revenue. … The municipal departments distributed electric energy, light, power, warmth, compressed air, rarefied air, cold air, water under pressure, as well as pneumatic telegrams and telephonic messages. … Were there any soldiers in Floating Island? Yes, a body of five hundred men under the orders of Colonel Stewart, for it had to be remembered that some parts of the Pacific are not always safe. In approaching certain groups of islands it is prudent to be prepared against any attack by pirates. That this militia was highly paid, that every man received a salary superior to that of a full general in old Europe, need not surprise. … Were there any police on Floating Island? Yes, a few companies, and they sufficed to keep the peace of a town which had no reason to be troubled. To reside there permission was necessary from the municipal administration. The shores of the island were watched day and night by custom-house officers. (Verne, 2012, Chapter 5)

Visionary Trends in Jules Verne’s The Floating Island

Communication and Building Projects Verne has – as we already said – imagined a world where technology does not respect any boundaries; they are transgressed in every respect. This also applies to communication that almost unfolds in the same way as today. People tend to send extremely fast, short messages which are called teleautographe. Tourism is thus seen as something tremendously sophisticated, guests should be given the opportunity to stay in touch with whoever they want, all the time. If we draw conclusions regarding present-day tourism, we have to state that every touristic offer should include WIFI, satellite television and even more: maybe TV on demand or even providing a laptop in every room might be an option. According to Verne, communication tools should constantly be available: only such a measure really completes a satisfying stay. This modernist attitude goes hand in hand with the favourite building material used on Standard Island, namely aluminium, which constitutes something completely recent at the end of the 19th century and paves the way for numerous breakthroughs in the construction area (think of the skyscraper boom in New York, for instance). In essence, Verne underlines again the necessity to innovate all the time. Especially if you want to attract the high-end sector, you need to set your aims higher constantly. Openmindedness and the obligation to present something new regularly can be seen as common features of tourism, which forces entrepreneurs to employ the best staff. They should be familiar with the latest trends, particularly when it comes to communication, construction or transport: An artificial island; there was nothing extraordinary in the idea. With a sufficient mass of materials submerged in a river, a lake, a sea, it was not beyond the power of men to make it. But that was not sufficient. Having regard to its destination, to the requirements it had to satisfy, it was necessary that this island could be moved from place to place, and consequently that it should float. There was the difficulty, which was not too great for ironworkers engineers to overcome. Already, at the end of the nineteenth century, with their instinct for the ‘big’, their admiration for the ‘enormous,’ the Americans had conceived the project of forming a large raft

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some miles out at sea, and their mooring it with anchors. If this was not a city, it was at least a station in the Atlantic with restaurants, hotels, clubs, theatres &co, where tourists could find all the conveniences of the watering places then most in vogue. This project was realized and completed. And then, instead of a stationary raft, they made a movable island. (Verne, 2012, chapter 5)

Economic Structure Who has called Verne’s Standard Island into existence? Who runs it? If we want to learn from the French author, we also have to analyse the business model that lies behind the touristic enterprise which seems so futuristic. The company which Verne describes is – if we watch closely – less daring. About 800 shareholders have provided the business with the necessary money. Investors belong of course to American high society; their experience in trade has made the artificial island possible. Verne thus sees tourism in the context of economic security. He wants entrepreneurs to share the risks. According to him, huge innovations are only enabled by cooperation, trust and a sense for reality that gauges financial challenges well and refrains from venturing too far. The core of Verne’s business model is consequently very conservative. A limited company traded at the stock exchange and dotted with a secure financial background lies at the heart of the enterprise, which reaches out far and tries to set examples for the future, but only thanks to a very bourgeois frame of mind. It reveals itself in the undertow of the firm founding the Floating Island: Six years before the opening of this story an American company, under the title of Floating Island Company, Limited, had been formed with a capital of five hundred million dollars, divided into five hundred shares, for the construction of an artificial island, affording the nabobs of the United States the various advantages of which the stationary regions of the globe are deprived. The shares were quickly taken up, for immense fortunes were then plentiful in America, gained either by manipulating railways, or banking operations, or oil transactions, or speculations in pickled pork. (Verne, 2012, chapter 5)

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Conclusion What do we imply when we highlight Verne’s impact on today’s tourism? First and foremost, we think of a plot with current relevance that serves as a basis for measuring the achievements and dangers linked to tourism. The storyline can be summarized as follows: an architectural eighth wonder of the world, an artificial island of impressive size, is put into service by a financially potent company assembling typical American values. Its affluent customers seem massively attracted by the opportunity to stand out in recreational terms and settle down on the new piece of land, which is chained to the continent thanks to technical breakthroughs. These mark Verne’s novel in various respects, making them the red thread running through the whole text. However, technological innovation does not lead to success: the owners of the holiday paradise go bankrupt, its customers split into two major opposition parties which become fierce enemies, and finally the island is shattered in a terrible cyclone causing dozens of victims among the inhabitants. This is the tragic outcome of a year-long effort of trying to provide touristic progress to clients. Verne condemns such a development, clearly: Such is the end of the story of the ninth wonder of the world, this incomparable Pearl of the Pacific! All is well that ends well, as people say, but all is bad that ends badly, and was such the case with Floating Island? Ended, no! It will be rebuilt some day – at least Calistus Munbar says so. And yet – we cannot repeat it too often – to create an artificial island, an island that moves on the surface of the seas, is it not to overstep the limits assigned to human genius, and is it not forbidden to man, who disposes not of the winds or the waves, to so recklessly usurp the functions of the Creator? (Verne, 2012, chapter 14)

Given such a distanced stance at the very end of the novel, readers are asked to reconsider all the points of criticism expressed in the text. They can thus elicit the following dangers threatening the very nature of tourism:

a. If the business industry’s innovations go too far, social unrest may be sparked, entangling customers in hostile relationships. b. Technological progress does not save business owners from financial loss or bankruptcy. c. Climatic factors prove to be stronger than human achievements in tourism and destroy numerous efforts aimed at advancing dynamically. d. Ethical values vanish and cannot guide the people involved anymore; consequently, they lack orientation and are open to various negative sources of influence. Returning to the question of Verne’s bearing on tourism nowadays, we can summarize it as an enumeration of economic, natural, societal and ethical facets that endanger the balance of our society. The French author, however, indicates resolutions to these problems. These suggestions are not dealt with explicitly; they result from Verne’s exaggerated description of flaws (in the manner Balzac did at the beginning of the 19th century). By creating a plotline that partly comes close to a nightmare scenario (see, for example, the destruction of Milliard City and the horrendous portrait of the cyclone: ‘Immediately more quakings of the ground took place, and the houses began to fall as if they were [...]. In a few hours nothing would be left of the superstructure of Floating Island.’- chapter 14), the author urges the tourist community to take action. An attentive reader can assemble indirect suggestions everywhere in the book and thus receives a list of measures to be taken: a. Respect human standards, do not exploit nature and act in a dignified way, so that ethical behaviour in compliance with longterm perspectives is guaranteed. b. Do not engage in financial risks promising fast success (like Floating Island). Instead, grow sustainably so that your business might endure for a longer period and provide growth and decent services to employees and customers. c. Consider the fact that society should not suffer from tourism. The notorious gap between the rich and the poor is not supposed to widen any further. The service sector is asked to cater to the needs of a vast range of customers, not only to those of affluent

Visionary Trends in Jules Verne’s The Floating Island

people (as in Verne’s text). Social cohesion represents one of the key issues in life. Of course, we can wonder why readers should turn to Verne to obtain advice about how tourism is run. The response relates to the high relevance of his comments, as he writes not only for the dominating social classes of his time but also for various large target groups of different backgrounds on an international level. His books

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have been translated into numerous languages. His views, which have been carefully elaborated with his editor, Hetzel, represent the core of widespread opinions between the 1860s and 1900. So further attempts to be inspired by such perspectives seem completely understandable. They promise to offer more enriching insights into the mechanisms of the tourist business and even constitute an important requirement in our time of crisis, insecurity and change.

References Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, J.-H. (1788) Paul et Virginie. Available at: www.​gutenberg.​org (accessed 8 February 2018). de Montaigne, M. (2016) Complete Works of Michel de Montaigne. Delphi Classics, East Sussex, UK. Stevenson, R.L. (1907) Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes. Serenity Publishers, LLC, London. Urry, J. and Larsen, J. (2011) The Tourist Gaze 3.0. Sage, London. Verne, J. (2012) The Complete Works of Jules Verne. Delphi Classics.

4 

Connecting Temporalities: Walking Through Narratives of Guilt and Passion

Katrín Anna Lund* Department of Geography and Tourism, Faculty of Life and Environmental Sciences, University of Iceland, Iceland

In 1912 a young man leaves a ship in the small village of Norðurfjörður in the Strandir region of north-west Iceland and decides to walk to Reykjavík, the capital, approximately 300 km away in the south. When the locals ask him why he is going to walk this long way instead of continuing his journey on the ship, his answer is simply that he likes to explore countryside unfamiliar to him (Þórðarson, 1984 [1938], p. 167). Just over a decade later, this young man becomes one of the most celebrated, as well as controversial, authors in Iceland. His pedestrian journey from Strandir and all the way to Reykjavík became the subject of some of his writing, revealing other possible reasons for his decision to undertake the walk. Maybe it was not only the liking of the countryside that drove him on. He hints that he could not afford to pay for the ship and was actually doing a runner. In addition, a burning desire for a particular female figure from a farm just under 200 km south was pulling him in her direction. Still, what the exact reason was remains unclear, not least because the boundaries between fact and fiction playfully muddle in his written accounts. Nevertheless, his description of the journey brings to light a troubled mind, flickering between being plagued by the feelings of criminal guilt, unfulfilled desires and

constant worries about money. The descriptions of the surrounding landscape seem to be tinted with his worries while his thoughts are simultaneously affected by the ever-changing landscape. One hundred years later, a group of seven walkers, including me, head on to retrace the steps this young man, better known as the author and legend Þórbergur Þórðarson (1888–1974), followed and re-enact the landscapes he walked through. The organizers of the walk had spent about 3 years preparing the route, studying segments from his writings that refer to the walk, scrutinizing his diaries that are kept in the National Library and investigating the route on foot. The diaries hold detailed information about his 12 days of travel to Reykjavík, such as the weather, timing, people he met, refreshment he was offered, farms in which he lodged, as well as information about his moods, thoughts and the surrounding landscape. However, given that 100 years have passed since Þórbergur walked the route, it is obvious that the surroundings have changed. Much of the land that was farmed has been abandoned and the people he met are no longer alive, and neither is he (at least not in person), although he lives through his writings and as legend. In an area where both fishing and farming has been declining, for the past

*​kl@​hi.​is 36

© CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

Connecting Temporalities

four decades at least, and tourism has slowly been growing, although not en masse, ways of living have changed considerably. Thus, while we were following his footsteps, we were simultaneously remaking them in the present landscape, which calls forth the question about how we are located in our mobile practice of retracing footsteps in a landscape of different temporalities as well as spatialities, in constant fluctuation between past and present. ‘Landscape is tension’, write Rose and Wylie (2006, p. 475), which becomes particularly evident when a walk is made in order to retrace a long distant past, because landscapes are always tensions ‘of appearances that filter out narratives of pasts and presents’ (Lund, 2013, p. 159). Landscapes contain stories of the constant comings and goings of past and present humans and non-humans, which makes it worth exploring how one particular story is teased out and what kind of appearances it brings with it. By following one particular story, it reactivates its actors, human and non-human, who order the landscapes the route goes through. And at the centre of the story is Þórbergur himself, who is, although physically absent in time and space, present as a figure during the course of the walk and directly and indirectly orders it as we move along. Given this context, I argue that I, as a walker but simultaneously a researcher, was doing what Armstrong (2010) has called ‘spectral ethnography’ or ‘ethnography of absence’, or carrying out research in a presence that is haunted by its past. This was my second year of conducting research in the region of Strandir, focusing on its development as a tourism destination with a special emphasis on its 17th-century history of witchcraft and witch-hunting, a story that had been reactivated with the establishment of the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft in 2000 (Lund, 2015; Lund and Jóhannesson, 2016). In 2012, I had gained some extra funding to look at the region’s connectivity by investigating how ways of commuting had changed with different techniques and manners of travelling over time (Lund and Jóhannesson, 2014). I had thus already been located as a researcher in-between the past and the present by examining mobile temporalities. When the possibility to take part in this walk came up, I used it as an opportunity to travel an old main route through the region and it did not spoil my joy that I had since teenage years been a devoted admirer of

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Þórbergur Þórðarson. Although continuing my research plan of investigating routes and roads, the presence of Þórbergur changed my locational in-betweenness in the process of the research. This fact immediately prompted questions about how footsteps are retraced and the ways in which a present absence, in this case the spectre of Þórbergur, directs the walk and, as a result, participates in ordering the surroundings. While a vast literature, scholarly, factual and fictional, has been written based on following in the footsteps of past celebrities (e.g. Johnson, 2004; Plate, 2006; Brown, 2016), analysing the process from a more than-humanaspect focusing on the fusion of temporalities, acknowledging spectral presences, has not been done before. However, it is also important to bear in mind that all journeys that retrace footsteps differ from each other as the spectral character in question must affect the process in his or her own manner. I therefore start this chapter by introducing the author Þórbergur Þórðarson, who is little known outside of Iceland, and provide a glimpse into his personality, with an emphasis on his accounts, factual and fictional, about the walk. I will then examine how we, 100 years later, attempt to retrace his steps and how his presence directs the walk and shapes atmospheres. I will then use two selected extracts from the walk to provide a glimpse into how the presence of Þórbergur emerged in different ways and influenced the atmosphere, and then analyse it with insights into relevant passages of the walk.

Connecting Temporalities Þórbergur Þórðarson was born in 1888 at a farm called Hali in an isolated region in southeast Iceland. When he was 18 years old, he left the region for the first time and went to the capital, Reykjavík, in search of education. The story says that he was deprived in terms of money, but rich in spirit. Conventional education, especially the teaching methods, did not live up to his expectations and poverty meant that he could not afford to buy books and stationery. He did, however, use the then newly formed National Library for self-education and in 1913 he went straight to study philosophy and literature at the University, but was not allowed to proceed to the

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final exams in 1918 due to the fact that he had not finished any previous, educational degrees. In 1924, his first authored book, Bréf til Láru (Letters to Laura), in which he includes some extracts from the walk, was published. It caused much controversy and made him instantly famous in Iceland. It was critically directed at Icelandic society at that time, capitalism, the Church as an establishment, and societal injustice with a sharp, ironical nuance. In fact, he had a great sense of humour that coloured much of his work. It can be said that the book reflected his personal ideology in many ways, as he hailed socialism and internationalism passionately. He was, for example, fluent in Esperanto. He also regarded himself as a scientifically thinking person, which many people saw as a contradiction given that he was into yoga, sea bathing and spiritualism, and was convinced about the existence of supernatural creatures such as ghosts, elves and monsters living in lakes and sea. No doubt that he was regarded as extremely eccentric by the general Icelander, but he became one of the most celebrated authors in Iceland in his time and is still acknowledged as such. In autumn 1912, after spending the summer as a seasonal worker in a nearby town, he travelled by ship from Akureyri in the north of Iceland to head back to the capital. About 25 years later, he records this journey in his book Íslenskur aðall (Icelandic Aristocracy), which was published in 1938, and in one of the last chapters describes his walk from Norðurfjörður to Reykjavík. His works have not been fully translated into English, but a partial translation has been made by Kenneth G. Chapman of Íslenskur aðall, called In Search of My Beloved, which was published in 19671. The English title reflects the content of the book quite well, as it contains the atmosphere of a romantic satire. It has been described as an autobiographical fiction (Birgisdóttir, n.d.), which blurs the boundaries between fact and fiction. It is based on his life during this particular period of seasonal work in 1912, but a central figure in it is a young woman, who he refers to as ‘my love’ throughout. Her appearances in the book are fairly dreamlike and she is constantly on his mind as a female figure he both loves and adores. The chapter about the walk is the highlight of this, what seems to be possibly an unrequited, love, because he intends to make a visit to her home, which is partly the

reason why he leaves the ship, at least according to the novel. The other reason is that right from the beginning of his travel by the ship, it is known that he could not afford to pay for the trip and so he leaves the boat and absconds, which provides an excuse for him to pass by her home. However, the novel tells how he lacks the courage to knock on her door when he comes to it and so passes by, and therefore omits the highlight of the book itself with an underlying irony. The walk itself is usually referred to as framhjágangan (the bypass). The female figure that ‘his love’ is based on was a young woman he had got to know in Reykjavík and whom he both liked and respected, although the diaries he kept meticulously do not hint at any passionate, unrequited love. She was living at the farm he passes by in the novel, but his diaries record how he did not pass by, since it was not even his intention to visit her, and he meets up with her in a village near to her house, more by an accident rather than intention, and greets her. The walk that was taken in 2012 was intended to accurately follow his walk, at least in terms of the route he took, but at the same time to keep the atmosphere of the romantic, and simultaneously ironical, accounts of the novel. At the beginning of each leg, descriptions from his diaries were read out, beginning with his weather reports that he always recorded precisely and descriptions of his route, how he related to the surroundings and the people he met. Sometimes a relevant passage from his novel was added and, if there was a chance, some yoga stretches were performed to keep his spirit alive. At the meals in the evenings, an extra plate and cutlery were arranged on the dinner table for Þórbergur to stress how he was travelling with us. This practice also contained some irony, especially on the occasions when the group dined at restaurants on the way, which happened if they were available, and the staff when asked to arrange the extras, reacted with surprise. When we came to the farm of ‘his love’, after walking for 6 days, we took a little detour from the route and instead of bypassing the farm we walked to it. In the novel he describes how he intends to approach the farm and imagines how the events will proceed and in this case we followed his imagination rather than his exact steps. When we came to the farm, one of the group members went to the door and knocked on it. This was how Þórbergur

Connecting Temporalities

had foreseen how he was going to do it, to knock on the door and ask for a glass of water. In our case there was no one at home, so we could not proceed with the glass of water, but instead we sat down and each member of the group read out a love poem selected from a collection of his poetry. As such, it is possible to claim that the walk proceeded somewhere between fact and fiction but simultaneously between the present and a past that has long gone. Central to the walk is the figure of Þórbergur, who we kept alive through activities, as described above, but also in our conversations and by pointing out features in the landscape that are mentioned in his text, or somehow related to his life through other activities and events in it. Thus, the narratives that the walk follows are never linear, rather they meander chaotically between different narratives of people and events that appear in the landscape, narratives that make absences present (Rose and Wylie, 2006; Anderson, 2009; Armstrong, 2010; Maddrell, 2013; Frers, 2013; Lund, 2015). The landscape as tensioned is brought into being through how we are entangled in these narratives that shape an atmosphere of in-betweenness as our walk is located somehow ‘between presence and absence, between subject and object/subject and between the definite and the indefinite’ (Anderson, 2009, p. 77). As such, it can be said that the walk treads a route that roams between fact and fiction, in a similar manner as the accounts from Þórbergur himself, and in his absence he is continuously present. However, how he makes himself present varies and sometimes it is not clear who is following whom. As such, it is relevant to refer to his spectral presence as that of the blank figure which Hetherington and Lee, 2000 describe as follows: They are figures of the between space, communicators that pass between categories of difference as if they were not there; startling perhaps when made visible – who would not be startled by the apparition of an angel or some other ghostly presence – but facilitators of new possibilities in the connections that they make between spaces otherwise not connectable within the recognised order of things.

As unpredictable figures that connect heterogeneous spatio/temporalities, they assist in overcoming distances that otherwise do not relate.

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At the same time that we are walking in the present landscape, the figure of Þórbergur travels with us in the present as we are treading the route his footsteps marked 100 years earlier. His presence arranges the walk and keeps it intact. Nevertheless, how it happens can be unpredictable, as the examples below reveal.

Following It is the first day of walking. After an hour-long walk on the road we come to Árnes, the farm where Þórbergur had his first cup of coffee after only an hour of walking from Norðurfjörður. He had been there in the afternoon, but we are there in the morning. Ahead of us is a walk over a mountain pass, about 7 kilometres long, to get to the next fjord where we will stay overnight like Þórbergur did. Like Þórbergur was, we are invited for a cup of coffee by the farmer in Árnes, who sits down with us on the terrace outside his recently established district museum, accompanied by his wife, daughter and son-in-law. Extracts from Þórbergur’s diaries are read out, as well as some segments from his novel (Fig. 4.1). His descriptions of his journey over the pass 100 years earlier speak about beautiful weather conditions, blue sky and moonlight, as he walked the pass in the evening and into the night. We look up to the hill behind us, where thick clouds are hanging. The conditions will not be the same this time, but we will stick to the route. There are two passes over the mountain, but the one he did not take is not on offer even though it is considered to be easier: we are following his footsteps as accurately as possible. We start walking, and are followed by a young and playful border collie that had suddenly appeared, as it seemed, out of nowhere. We thought the dog would be from a nearby farm and expected that he would soon return back to his home. After about an hour we are surrounded by fog that only gets thicker. One of the two organizers, Eva, holds the GPS on which they had marked the route they took the year before when they had passed the mountain, but the fog changes the appearance of the surroundings and the directions the GPS wants us to take do not seem to be suggesting the right course. Other members from the group, experienced

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Fig. 4.1.  Reading extracts from Þórbergur's diaries.

mountaineers, take out their maps and compasses, in order to help Eva to direct us. The rest of us wait and stand still in the cold air of the fog while they ponder over likely directions, except the dog, which has not left us as we expected and jumps around, enjoying our company. After careful consideration, we head on, but when we are outside of the fog we realize that we are walking in the wrong direction, since we see in front of us the landscape we have just left. We are lost. Þóbergur seems to be far away from our worrying minds, which are focused on how we can get down. We are now walking in circles. The dog continues to jump playfully around us and manages to get an occasional cuddle. He is lost too, but does not realize it. His lively character helps to keep the atmosphere

tolerable and we start considering if he is the spirit of Þórbergur disguised as a dog. The blank figure of Þórbergur is after all present. Now and then the fog lifts slightly and we can see over to the other passage, which we are not supposed to take down the mountain, as if to remind us that we have to keep to the correct route. After all, we are following in the footsteps of Þórbergur. Suddenly, the fog raises temporarily, but enough for Eva to see that the GPS has been directing us correctly all the time and we start treading the narrow passage down the mountain. We are still followed by Þórbergur the dog, who gets even more cuddles as we slowly find our way down the hill, out of the fog and into the sun that otherwise bathes the fjord we are heading into. This prompts me to think about

Connecting Temporalities

Þórbergur’s description of his first vision of this same fjord, as he depicts it in his novel: Up on the mountain a fjord beautiful as a mirror spread out before me, sparkling in the rays from a new full moon. This was Reykjafjörður. The day had come to an end. The sky beautifully clear, twinkling stars, silent peace, scent of moss in the air. Heavenly currents trickled inside me, which raised the mind high above this small world ... [e]ven the one I desired disappeared like a particle in a dustless sea of lights. Here everything became ephemera and futility except eternity. Here, all worldly viewpoints became naive. (Þórðarson, 1984 [1938], pp. 167–168, (transl. Lund, K.A.))

As Þórbergur’s spirit was lifted when he envisioned the deep fjord below him under the stars, ours are also, but for different reasons. Nevertheless, while Þórbergur portrayed how he had to run along the fjord in the dusk to escape a threatening sea monster, we walk the road, which did not exist in Þórbergur’s time, to the farmhouse where he was fed and invited to stay overnight. No one is living at the farm, but descendants of the family who used to farm the land maintain it as a summer residence. No one is there when we arrive. We take off our boots and socks and bathe tired feet in the sea before heading off to the hotel, a little further along the fjord, where we are going to rest for the night before continuing with the next leg of the walk. When we are almost at the hotel, we realize that the dog we have now started to call Þórbergur still follows us and that we will have to leave it behind, although we do not feel comfortable about it. But the fact is that the irony of having an imagined spectral figure of Þórbergur following us, in his absence, while we are following his footsteps does not match the reality of the present and immediate environment we are in, which does not allow for spectral appearances. The hotel does not allow dogs and we are not following in Þórbergur’s footsteps anymore during the day, although we ask for an extra plate and cutlery at the dinner table. This passage prompts questions about not only who is following whom, but also how the following occurs in different situations, how various presences and happenings call forth absences that entangle, setting the atmosphere of the day. As different absences enter and fade out, the atmosphere changes. However, central

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to making the atmosphere is Þórbergur, in one way or another: his footsteps need to be followed as exactly as possible, which leaves us trapped in a thick fog that sits on the top of the mountain over which we have to pass. Had we taken the other route, where the fog was not as dense, this might not have happened. In the panic of not finding our route down the hill, the dog, which has playfully followed us, gets a role that fits the atmosphere the walk was supposed to create when it was given the character of Þórbergur embodied as a dog, which matches Þórbergur’s interests in spiritual matters and belief in supernatural creatures. Still, this was only one passage of a walk that took 12 days in total and no passage was the same as Þórbergur’s spectral appearances materialized in different ways.

Present Absences Day four starts with a visit to the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft, where the director performs a ceremony in which a zombie is quelled (Lund, 2015). The museum can be seen as symbol of the contemporary socio-economic drives in the region. It was opened in the year 2000 with the purpose of promoting cultural tourism in the area. Its exhibits are based on the history of witch hunting in Iceland in the 17th century, in which the region of Strandir was prominent (Gunnarsdóttir and Jóhannesson, 2014; Lund and Jóhannesson, 2016). The visit to the museum had not been in the original plan for the walk, but quelling a zombie matched the spirit of the walk well, not least given Þórbergur’s interests in the supernatural. His description of this day 100 years earlier in his novel hints at how his mind was caught up in tragic events that had occurred locally some decades earlier. One event he records is about a young man who commits suicide after getting a letter from his fiancé terminating their relationship. Þórbergur’s description of the event, although short, is exaggerated. For example, he tells how the young man had cut his throat and his spirit could not rest; at night people at the farm could hear and feel his disturbed presence and, from a distance, he could be seen walking restlessly in the vicinity of the farm. It is evident that in his account the boundaries between fact

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and fiction are indeed blurred. After the visit to the Witchcraft Museum, we head on to the nearby Sheep Farming Museum to meet up with a local farmer from a neighbouring farm to where Þórbergur had a cup of coffee on his journey, who is willing to discuss the consequences of Þórbergur’s version of the story. The suicide had taken place, but what caused it and how it happened was kept within the family, so, as an author, Þórbergur allows himself to create his own version. This proved to be sensitive for the relatives. Shortly after the district library received a copy of the novel, the page with the story was torn out: who by is not known. The missing page emphasizes the importance of absence (Meier et al., 2013), not least in relation to the absence/presence of Þórbergur in the role of the blank figure. In 1912, he passes the farm where the young man in the tragic story lived, which maybe, or maybe not, makes him think about it at that moment. We do not know how he got to hear about it: it could have been before, during, or even after the journey. But 24 years later, Þórbergur’s version of it appears on one page in his novel, sweeping up memories and emotions that are suddenly made present in their absence. In an attempt to make them absent again, to quell them, the page is torn away, but the absence of the page materializes its presence/absence as it adds to the story when we pass by, 100 years after Þórbergur’s journey. The blank figure of Þórbergur is still affective and we stir up the memories as we follow in his footsteps as we are not only following but simultaneously bringing his spirit with us, because he follows us. After the meeting with the farmer, we head on for the walk of the day. It takes us through moorlands of a low mountain over to the next fjord. The presence of Þórbergur, which in the morning had become rather intense, alters and becomes more tranquil, which matches the day’s atmosphere. The sky is clear, the air is warm and it feels as though we are walking through an environment that has for decades been untouched by human beings. No fences, no grazing, not even a path to follow. Loud and intense sounds from the local birds indicate that we have disrupted their everyday peaceful existence. Even though there is no path to follow, we can almost follow our nose given the weather conditions. But Eva still has the suggested route of Þórbergur mapped on her GPS

from the previous year, which we are meant to follow as accurately as possible. All we know from his writing is that he followed a recently erected telephone line, of which there are no signs now, but Eva asks us to keep our eyes open for any possible remains of it. As I follow Eva with her GPS, I start thinking about the stories that appear in the landscape. Þórbergur describes the walk in his novel in two sentences, but the absence of the telephone lines he said he had followed makes me think about ever-changing technologies and mobile practices that constantly change our sense for connectivity and distances. I try to imagine how here, over 100 years earlier, as it seems out in the middle of nowhere, were workers erecting telephone lines in order to establish better and more effective connections between distant parts of Iceland that even stretched outside of the country. As time has gone by, new types of technologies have affected mobile practices drastically and their work has vanished, although the absence of it directs us over these moorlands that give a sense of total wilderness. However, 100 years ago these same moorlands had a different life. We were possibly following the main route that those travelling by foot or on horses used, but another way would have been by boat. Wrapped in my thoughts, I continue to follow Eva with her GPS. Suddenly she takes a turn and walks into an old, dry ditch. I ask her where she is going and she laughs, telling me that by following the mapped route it accidently led her directly to the spot where she had a wee the previous year. We go back to the route and suddenly some broken wooden posts appear, the remains of the poles that the absent and imagined lines we followed were stretched between (Fig.  4.2). We are happy to realize that we are on the right track and with relief continue our walk through these multi-layered landscapes (Bender, 1992, 1993; Lund and Benediktsson, 2010), where what is absent is constantly appearing through what is present. The narratives meander and provide snippets into the past as we follow invisible telephone lines, whose existence suddenly materializes in the form of broken wooden poles lying on the ground. A dry ditch tells us that once this land was utilized and as we walk into it we are brought to Eva’s walk the year before, when she

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Fig. 4.2.  Remains of the telephone lines.

mapped the route on her GPS. Simultaneously, disrupted birds provide us with a sense of the wilderness that we are disturbing with our presence. As the narratives meander, they entangle a tension of different spatio/temporalities. Directing the walks is the blank figure of Þórbergur, who provides the dominant narratives for the walk (Lund, 2008).

Conclusions The ‘story begins on ground level with footsteps’, writes De Certeau (1984). To walk is to create a story; not a single one that is linear, because the stories made by walking ‘are myriad, but do not compose a series’ (De Certeau, 1984). Still, stories are not innocent, as he points out: …they traverse and organize places; they select and link them together; they make sentences and itineraries out of them. They are spatial trajectories (De Certeau, 1984, p. 115)

In this chapter I have followed the re-telling of a spatial story that was walked 100 years earlier and documented and published some years later. I decided to select two legs of the walk to demonstrate how the following that the journey was based on created a variety of narrative tensions, depending on how our encounters with other figures, human and non-human, occurred. However, ‘narration is “established” on the basis of “primary” stories’ (De Certeau, 1984, p. 122) and in our case the ‘primary’ stories that dominate our walk are the accounts from Þórbergur about the journey he undertook in 1912. Following the paths he took means that his spectral presence is inherent to the walk. However, there are moments when his being materializes in various ways. It can take on different shapes, like in the case of the sheep dog that followed us through a stressful situation, or it may happen when his blank figure sweeps across and triggers moments and narratives of life, even indirectly related

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to the actual walk. And we are caught up in tensioned landscapes and, just like the narratives our steps create, the landscape is not innocent because it entails the stories. As such, we are located in a constant in-betweenness,

as different stories appear in the surroundings that guide us into different spatio/temporalities and locate us constantly in-between fact and fiction in the spirit of Þórbergur himself and his writings.

Note Þórbergur’s work, Steinarnir tala (e. The Stones Speak) was translated by Julians Meldon D‘Arcy and published in 2012. D’Arcy has translated several passages from Þórbergur’s work including Íslenskur Aðall and Bréf til Láru. 1

References Anderson, B. (2009) Affective atmospheres. Emotion, Space and Society 2(2), 77–81. DOI: 10.1016/j. emospa.2009.08.005. Armstrong, J. (2010) On the possibility of spectral ethnography. Cultural Studies ↔ Critical Methodologies 10(3), 243–250. DOI: 10.1177/1532708609359510. Bender, B. (1992) Theorising landscapes, and the prehistoric landscapes of Stonehenge. Man 27(4), 735– 755. DOI: 10.2307/2804172. Bender, B. (1993) Introduction: landscape – meaning and action. In: Bender,B. (ed.) Landscape: Politics and Perspectives. Berg, Oxford. Birgisdóttir, S. (n.d.) Sannleikurinn í æðra veldi. Available at: http://www.​thorbergur.​is/​index.​php/​is/​ skaldidh-​thorbergur/​greinar/​88-​sannleikurinn-​i-​aedhra-​veldi (accessed 20 September 2018). Brown, L. (2016) Treading in the footsteps of literary heroes: an autoethnography. European Journal of Tourism, Hospitality and Recreation 7(2), 135–145. DOI: 10.1515/ejthr-2016-0016. De Certeau, M. (1984) The Practice of Everyday Life. University of California Press, Berkeley, CA. Frers, L. (2013) The matter of absence. Cultural Geographies 20(4), 431–445. DOI: 10.1177/1474474013477775. Gunnarsdóttir, G.Þ. and Jóhannesson, G.T. (2014) Weaving with witchcraft: tourism and entrepreneurship in Strandir, Iceland. In: Viken, A. and Granås,B. (eds) Destination Development in Tourism: Turns and Tactics. Ashgate, Farnham, UK, pp. 95–112. Hetherington, K. and Lee, N. (2000) Social order and the blank figure. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space . and 18(2), 169–184. DOI: 10.1068/d215t. Johnson, N.C. (2004) Fictional journeys: Paper landscapes, tourist trails and Dublin's literary texts. Social & Cultural Geography 5(1), 91–107. DOI: 10.1080/1464936042000181335. Lund, K. (2008) Making mountains, producing narratives, or: ‘One day some poor sod will write their Ph.D. on this’. Archives & Social Studies: A Journal of Interdisciplinary Research 2(1), 135–162. Lund, K.A. (2013) Experiencing nature in nature-based tourism. Tourist Studies 13(2), 156–171. DOI: 10.1177/1468797613490373. Lund, K.A. (2015) Just like magic: activating landscape of witchcraft and sorcery in rural tourism, Iceland. In: Brunn,S. (ed.) Changing World Religion Map. Springer, New York. Lund, K.A. and Benediktsson, K. (2010) Introduction: starting a conversation with landscape. In: Benediktsson, K. and Lund,K.A. (eds) Conversations with Landscape. Ashgate, Farnham, pp. 1–12. Lund, K.A. and Jóhannesson, G.T. (2014) Moving places: multiple Temporalities of a peripheral tourism destination. Scandinavian Journal of Hospitality and Tourism 14(4), 441–459. Lund, K.A. and Jóhannesson, G.T. (2016) Earthly substances and narrative encounters: Poetics of making a tourism destination. Cultural Geographies 23(4), 653–669. DOI: 10.1177/1474474016638041. Maddrell, A. (2013) Living with the deceased: Absence, presence and absence-presence. Cultural Geographies 20(4), 501–522. DOI: 10.1177/1474474013482806.

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Meier, L., Frers, L. and Sigvardsdotter, E. (2013) The importance of absence in the present: Practices of remembrance and the contestation of absences. Cultural Geographies 20(4), 423–430. DOI: 10.1177/1474474013493889. Plate, L. (2006) Walking in Virginia Woolf’s footsteps: Performing cultural memory. European Journal of Cultural Studies 9(1), 101–120. Rose, M. and Wylie, J. (2006) Guest editorial: Animating landscape. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 24, 475–479. Þórðarson, Þ. (1984 [1938]) Íslenzkur aðall. Mál og menning, Reykjavík.

5 

Frontier Travel Narratives: Imagining the American West Through Novels

Warwick Frost* and Jennifer Laing Department of Management, Sport and Tourism, La Trobe University, Melbourne, Australia

Introduction The imagining of the American West is often conceptualized in terms of films, but attention also needs to be given to how books have framed the way that the West is understood by their readership. During the 19th century, the artist George Catlin, soldiers George Custer and John Cremony, journalist Henry Morton Stanley and explorers John Fremont and John Wesley Powell all wrote popular accounts of their adventures in the West. Visiting English writers who published travel narratives on the West included Isabella Bird, Charles Dickens, Rudyard Kipling and Robert Louis Stevenson. Collectively, they formed a large body of work that was read and enjoyed widely. Works of fiction with a Western theme also became immensely popular during this period, particularly in the urbanizing eastern USA and Europe. The growth in the dime novel saw a proliferation of inexpensive and short books, often with lurid covers and a sensationalized plot. Cox (2000) observes that ‘the quantity and popularity of frontier and western stories was such that the genre seemed to represent all dime novels. For some readers a dime novel was by definition a western’ (p. xv). These novels often invented fictional adventures for real Westerners such as Kit

Carson, Buffalo Bill Cody and Wild Bill Hickok. In Germany, the novels of Karl May were best sellers, even though he did not visit the USA until quite late in his life. In the early 20th century, novelists such as Owen Wister reflected concerns that the American frontier was disappearing – a thesis made famous by historian Frederick Jackson Turner (1893). This concern was reflected in a boom in reminiscences by old-timers, such as the lawman Wyatt Earp and author Laura Ingalls Wilder (Little House on the Prairie), and the romanticization of the past through the prolific novelist Zane Grey. Despite the advent of cinema and television Westerns, novels on Western themes remained popular throughout the 20th century and into the current century, with authors including Thomas Berger, Louis L’Amour, Alan Le May, Cormac McCarthy, Larry McMurtry and Charles Portis.

Tourism in the West As the USA’s western frontier was being expanded, it was also becoming a tourist destination. Fuelling this tourism inflow was a combination of media influences, railway development, the creation of national highways

*Corresponding author: ​w.​frost@​latrobe.​edu.​au 46

© CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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and the new invention of national parks. Research into the history of tourism in the West has tended to focus on natural attractions (Frost and Hall, 2009; Pomeroy, 1957; Rothman, 1998; Wrobel and Long, 2001). In contrast, the ‘Wild West’ elements of tourism have received little attention thus far in the academic literature. Furthermore, the influence of shifting historical interpretations has hardly been considered, particularly the influential ‘New History of the West’ movement, which rejected a triumph of progress view and focused more on women, Native Americans and other marginalized groups (Riley, 1999; Slotkin, 1992; Tompkins, 1992; White, 1991). Examples of studies that have incorporated these new interpretations include our exploration of film and tourism (Frost and Laing, 2015), Pitchford’s research into differing responses to Native American heritage centres

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between American and international tourists (Pitchford, 2008), and Mohs’s exploration of the nexus between the rise in the Western as a genre in both literature and film and automotive travel to the American West (Mohs, 2015). All three of these recent studies focus on tourists influenced by the media, who travel to seek the mythological West that they have read about or seen on screen. While the complexities and paradoxes of tourism in the American West can only be touched on here, it is valuable to briefly scope out the range of tourist attractions available that feature Western themes. Table  5.1 presents ten types of attractions, providing examples for each. These range from national parks and other protected areas to historical preservations and reconstructions and through to popular-culture-inspired museums and festivals. This table is only meant to be illustrative,

Table 5.1.  Typology of Western tourism attractions. Type of attraction

Examples

National Park, operated by US National Parks Service (NPS)

Yellowstone Grand Canyon

First Nations’ Park

Monument Valley Tribal Park, operated by the Navajo Nation

National Monument, National Battlefield, operated by NPS

Little Bighorn National Battlefield Washita Battlefield National Historic Site

State Historical Park

Bodie (ghost town)

Urban streetscape, ‘old-town’

Deadwood Dodge City Tombstone

Re-created Western town

Old Tuscon Old Parker’s Fort, Texas

Festival

Helldorado in Tombstone Lone Pine Western Film Festival

Museum

Buffalo Bill Cody Center, Cody Museum of the Rockies, Bozeman Wells Fargo History Museums Georgia O’Keeffe Museum, Santa Fe The National Road and Zane Grey Museum, Norwich, Ohio

Historic house or site

Grave of Billy the Kid, Fort Sumner Laura Ingalls Wilder House Jesse James House Geronimo Surrender Monument

Popular culture museum or attraction

Autry Museum of the American West Lone Pine Museum of Western Films

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providing examples of attractions operating at the present time.

Themes in Tourism and the Media Our focus in this chapter is on the role that reading novels might play in influencing how tourists imagine the American West as both a real and mythical space. The links between media and tourism are widely recognized. Gartner (1994) saw the media as an important factor in shaping destination image among potential tourists. He argued for a distinction between induced (created by marketing organizations) and autonomous media (books, film, television). While there has been a great deal of research on film tourism, literary tourism has also received attention (Fawcett and Cormack, 2001; Herbert, 2001; Howard, 2012; Laing and Frost, 2012a; McClinchey, 2015). In recent years, the influence of both film and book versions of stories, plus the growth of fan websites, has led to the use of the concept of mediatized tourism; a form of convergence between ‘content in film, novels and other media products’ (Månsson, 2011, p. 1635), which collectively influences travel. The early literature on media and tourism often concentrated on visitation to a specific place featured in a book, or a place associated with an author (Fawcett and Cormack, 2001; Herbert, 2001). The more recent literature focuses on some key concepts about processes taking place with the reader. Reijnders (2011) introduced the concept of places of imagination, where ‘in the head and heart of the fan or tourist ... the fascination begins which provides the motivation to visit the locations. That is precisely where the transitional moment takes place, the instant when the world of the imagination coincides with – or possibly contrasts with – physical reality’ (p. 234). Such places of the imagination are hybrids, mixing the real and the imagined. This challenges our notions of what is authentic for the tourist. Whereas previously fictional worlds could be seen as not real and therefore inauthentic, studies of media-induced tourism demonstrate that the tourists do not necessarily see it that way. In the case of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, the films shot in New Zealand provided an ‘objective

authenticity’ for a fantasy world. Research among members of themed tours found that ‘despite knowing that Tolkien had developed Middle-earth in Europe, many participants emotionally perceived the New Zealand setting as authentic’ (Buchmann et  al., 2010, p. 237) and ‘most seem willing, even eager, to immerse themselves in this mythical world’ (Buchmann et al., 2010, p. 239). In our study of how books influence tourism, we focused on their role in inspiring travel more generally, rather than driving individuals towards a particular place. Many books feature the lead character on a journey that takes the form of a quest and such ‘books often make a promise to the reader that, if they travel, they too will have adventures and explore the world’ (Laing and Frost, 2012a). Through reading stories about journeys, ‘we may learn about the hardships and “hellish” side of travel, as well as experiencing the sublime, and observe that travel can change us, not necessarily in the ways we might foresee or desire’ (Laing and Frost, 2012a). More recently, we have examined how books by women portrayed travelling to Italy in terms of romance, transformation and self-discovery (Laing and Frost, 2017). Transformation is a promise, but it also has a double edge. There is a common trope that the central character is an outsider, a stranger in a strange land. While they might have new experiences and adventures, they are also venturing into an unknown, providing a ‘narrative of dislocation, personal and physical ... at once both alluring and alienating’ (Best, 2009, p. 129). Our aim in this chapter is to examine the myths of travel through the West through three well-known novels. All three instances tell the reader of crossing over into a frontier with possibilities of both danger and transformation. In analysing these narratives in detail, we seek to establish some of the core promises that are presented to the readers and may shape their future travel motivations and expectations. We are not aiming to show how these novels directly attract tourism to specific places and attractions associated with the books or authors. Rather, our interest is how they shape the way that images of the West in general may be formed and thus influence tourism to the West more generally, as well as expectations as to what might be found there.

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The three books we have selected are: 1. The Virginian (Wister, 1902). One of the first novels set in the West, it was ‘the transitional text from dime novels into the classic Western plot’ (Mohs, 2015, p. 227). An immediate best-seller in its day, it is still in print, with the number of copies sold estimated in 1990 at a staggering two million (Kuenz, 2001). It was hugely influential on later Western books and films (Frost and Laing, 2015; Slotkin, 1992). 2. The Dude Ranger (Grey, 1952). Chosen as an example of the work of probably the most successful and prolific of Western novelists (Blake, 1995; Hitt, 1990), this novel, like much of Grey’s work, is the ‘quintessential formula Western’ (Mohs, 2015, p. 227). 3. The Searchers (Le May, 1954). A major change in direction for Western literature, as rather than romanticizing the West, this bleak and brutal work dealt with adult concepts of miscegenation, racial hatred and obsessive revenge. A best-seller on its release, it was made into a classic film by director John Ford in 1956 (Frankel, 2013).

The Virginian (Wister, 1902) Wister, the narrator, comes West in the 1880s to stay at the ranch of Judge Henry. An Easterner, there are hints he is looking for recuperation and that he is disillusioned with life in New York. He gets off the train in Medicine Bow, Wyoming, and quickly realizes he has entered another world. One of the cowboys catches his eye, and it is his physical appearance that is commented upon: Lounging there at ease against the wall was a slim young giant, more beautiful than pictures. His broad soft hat was pushed back; a looseknotted dull-scarlet handkerchief sagged from his throat, and one casual thumb was hooked in the cartridge-belt that slanted across his hips. He had plainly come many miles ... but no dinginess of travel or shabbiness of attire could tarnish the splendour that radiated from his youth and strength. (Wister, 1902, p. 3)

This is the Virginian. His real name is never revealed. He has been sent by Judge Henry to

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meet Wister and will be his guide and source of fascination throughout the book. Wister flits back and forth across the frontier, mixing work back East with holidays and hunting trips in Wyoming. Gradually he becomes friends with the Virginian and shifts from being a ‘tenderfoot’ to a competent outdoorsman. Mohs (2015) observes that the book essentially charts ‘the tourist experience: an eastern urbanite travels west on the railroad and enacts the life of a cowboy’. The authenticity of the hero is mirrored in the landscape, which is immense, sweeping and grand (Mohs, 2015). The narrator refers to ‘a world of crystal light, a land without end’ (p. 10). In real life, Wister’s first trip was due to his doctor S. Weir Mitchell prescribing a ‘West cure’, as treatment for neurasthenia and chronic headaches. Wister was not an isolated case: Mitchell gave the same advice to many of his male patients (Scharnhorst, 2015). This was a time when rapid urbanization had sparked a crisis in American self-identity. Rather than pioneers, most Americans had become city workers. Along with his friends, President Theodore Roosevelt and painter Frederic Remington, Wister was worried about the potential for physical, moral and national degeneration (Kuenz, 2001). Reacting against modernity, they and fellow-minded Easterners began to romanticize aggressive male endeavour and to appropriate its symbols, its rhetoric, and its psychological rewards. They were increasingly drawn to all-male leisure activities such as sport and hunting ... the cult of the cowboy soldier arose in art, drama and fiction, popularizing exaggerated and violent forms of masculinity. (Watts, 2003, p. 7)

For Wister, his trip gave his life new direction. He began writing magazine stories about the West. Further trips added more material. Indeed, Wister maintained that nearly all his literary output was based on true stories he had either experienced or been told. As his writing career took off, he hatched a plan to consolidate some of his magazine stories into a full-length novel. His first attempt did not sell well and he realized he need a stronger narrative structure. Accordingly, it is the character of the Virginian that holds the episodic nature of the novel together (Scharnhorst, 2015).

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The Virginian is painted as a natural aristocrat and he is partly based on another Virginian in George Washington (Scharnhorst, 2015). Not only physically perfect and tough, the Virginian adheres to a strong moral code and is a born leader. He also engages in constant pranks and tall story-telling, puncturing the stuffiness and pomposity that he encounters. Wister wants to be like him and the reader is also invited to wish that they too could head West and be similarly transformed. Yet the book is clear that this path is not available to all, no matter how much the individual might wish for it: ‘Wister suggests not just that success is the result of native skill and acumen, but that one is either born with these gifts or not and that no amount of effort can ever make up for the lack of them’ (Kuenz, 2001, p. 101). The archetypal Westerner, the Virginian has been made by the frontier, not born on it – very much in line with Turner (1893). As his nickname indicates, he is from Virginia. Bored by a backward-looking society, he left home in his young teens and has wandered through the West. He tells Wister that he returned back East for a while, but couldn’t stand it. In this, the Virginian is like most of his fellow cowboys in his desire to roam. As he tells it, ‘folks come easy, and they go easy. In settled places, like back in the States, even a poor man mostly has a home ... but out hyeh in the sage-bush, a man’s home is apt to be his saddle blanket. First thing yu’ know, he has moved it to Texas’ (p. 38). Wister notes this is a common story, ‘these cow-punchers ... came from farms and cities, from Maine and from California. But the romance of American adventure had drawn them all alike to this great playground’ (p. 49). There may be more prosaic reasons behind this move to roam, which authors like Wister have glossed over. Kuenz (2001, p. 112) notes that a cowboy’s work was often seasonal, with the worker ‘let go in the winter’, while job satisfaction might also not have been high, given the combination of hard work and communal living. The Virginian ‘shadows, yet obscures this cycle by having its narrator conveniently return home to the East for annual visits during the winters of unemployment’ (Kuenz, 2001, p. 113). Despite this propensity for wanderlust, children are now being born on the frontier. The settlers band together and build a school-house and

this brings a schoolmarm in Molly Wood. She was based on Wister’s second cousin, Molly Wister, who the writer would actually later marry (Scharnhorst, 2015). Molly is from New England and could, if she wished, claim ancestors from the Revolutionary War. Faced with the prospect of marriage to a local businessman, she has left the East. Uncertain of what she wants, her motivation is simply escape. While she is an advocate for equality, especially for women, this is suppressed by the end of the book (Kuenz, 2001); in Molly’s marriage to the Virginian ‘it was she who renounced, and he who had his way’ (p. 366). As we will later see with The Dude Ranger, even the most tempestuous and assertive female is tamed (brought to heel?) by the Western hero. She is powerless to resist his charms, which are often bound up in the garb he wears. Thus Molly observes that the Virginian’s clothing ‘seemed to radiate romance’ (p. 96). The violence inherent in the book conforms to the classic Western plot, where ‘the hero cannot use violence without certain justifications’ (Cawelti, 1970, p. 268). It facilitates regeneration, creating the environment for civilization or domesticity to flourish (Slotkin, 1992). In the case of the Virginian, his lynching of Steve eliminates an outlaw, and thus sends a message that lawlessness has no place on the frontier (though it is disconcerting that the Virginian engages in this lynching on behalf of the wealthy cattle barons). Similarly, the clergyman who will conduct the wedding ceremony explains to the Virginian how the showdown with the villainous Trampas is necessary: He knew that Trampas was an evil in the country, and that the Virginian was a good. He knew that the cattle thieves – the rustlers – were gaining in numbers and audacity; that they led many weak young fellows to ruin; that they elected their men to office, and controlled juries; that they were a staring menace to Wyoming. (Wister, 1902, p. 345)

The trope of the woman (Molly) pleading with her man not to fight is said to have originated with The Virginian, along with the staged shootout (Murdoch, 2001; Tompkins, 1992). The failure to heed a woman’s warning is ‘consistent with the Western’s male-centric focus, which casts domesticity to the shadows and marginalizes the role of women on the frontier’ (Frost and

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Laing, 2015). In the case of the Virginian, he is rewarded by his behaviour through ‘his assimilation into the developing society [by] marrying the school teacher’ (Cawelti, 1970, p. 269). This is a different ending to a book like The Searchers, or the classic movie Shane, where the removal of evil means that the hero (anti-hero?) can never settle down among the people he has saved, but is doomed to wander (Cawelti, 1970; Frost and Laing, 2015).

The Dude Ranger (Grey, 1952) It has been noted that ‘film has been instrumental in either creating or reflecting stereotypes of the West, through the clothing worn by actors’ (Frost and Laing, 2015). The same could be said of literary works, as above with The Virginian. In a similar vein, Grey’s descriptions of clothing worn by the hero are revealing in terms of their symbolism. In The Dude Ranger, Ernest Selby is a young man from Iowa who has inherited his uncle’s ranch in Arizona. On arrival, he hides his identity and takes a job on the ranch, so that he can discover why it is losing money. He ends the story by revealing his true self to those around him and marrying the girl. Selby is thus the archetype of the Eastern dude who goes West and either finds ‘physical health, moral strength, philosophical enlightenment, or true love’ (Topping, 1978). To go undercover, and ‘palm myself off as a cowboy’ (p. 5), he needs the right clothes. Selby understands that one recognizes cowboys immediately by what they are wearing, which is an integral part of the mythology of the Wild West (George-Warren and Freedman, 2001). The cowboys that Selby sees when he alights at the station in Holbrook are ‘garbed in the usual picturesque, big sombreros, flannel shirts, levis tucked into high-heeled leather boots to which were attached enormously long spurs’ (pp. 6–7). This is the same rig-out that young children wear when they dress up as cowboys (McGrath, 2001, 2007). It has entered mainstream fashion, reappearing in a cycle approximately every 7 years (George-Warren and Freedman, 2001) and being reinterpreted for a new audience by designers such as Ralph Lauren and Nudie Cohn. The latter was famous for the Western shirt with snap

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fastenings, long sleeves and embroidery, which led to the Rhinestone Cowboy look (Frost and Laing, 2015). Selby asks for a ‘plain cowboy outfit’ (p. 9) in a store and his status as a ‘tenderfoot’ means that the sales assistant sees him as a dupe who is waiting to be parted from his money. He is cajoled to buy all the gear, including ‘chaps, scarves, blanket, and finally gun, belt and shells’ (p. 10). When he has changed into his new clothes and accessories in his hotel room, he likes the effect that they produce: ‘Rough garments became him. The effect was not too dudish’ (p. 10). Selby decides, however, to leave off the spurs until he ‘had taken on a few lessons in walking with them. If he kept them on, he certainly would be bound to stumble and give himself away’ (p. 10). At the end of the novel, when Selby reveals himself as the new owner of the ranch, he requires a new set of clothes to step up to the task, but ‘no flash or phony stuff ’ (p. 243). Yet he is clearly now a dandy. The kit is described in loving detail: ‘boots with high tops of decorated kangaroo leather, as soft as kid; silver-mounted Mexican spurs, fringed buckskin gloves; a sombrero that felt like an umbrella; corduroys, blouse and scarf; and lastly a black leather gun belt and holster containing a white bone-handled gun’. The latter bears the authenticity of being ‘secondhand, but all the better for a little wear’ (p. 243). Selby has travelled to a place of ‘mysterious and glamorous possibilities’ (p. 6), compared to his life back East: ‘He was extremely grateful to Uncle Silas for having left him the ranch, but still more for the opportunity it gave him to forsake his circumscribed life in a small Iowa farm community for the romance and adventure that the West promised’ (p. 6). This echoes the plot of The Virginian, with the constant comparisons between the civilized East and the liberation offered by the West. The lawlessness of the latter is of course the dark side of freedom, with Selby forced to play detective in order to discern whether he is being systematically robbed by his manager. He also faces theft of a more visceral kind, when he saves the manager’s daughter during a hold-up on a stage coach. Guns are liberally used, even by one who admits that he is a neophyte, and Selby lets his gun off without meaning to: ‘If Ernest’s tight squeeze of inexperience had caused the discharge, it also kept it from flying out of his hand’ (p. 19). Out here, ‘gun play’ is part of the performance of being a cowboy. Selby is fortunate – he ends up

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with skinned knuckles and a bruise on the side of his head and has ‘soiled his new cowboy clothes’ (p. 22). Despite the reputation of dime novels as ‘trashy’, Grey’s depiction of a majestic landscape was an integral part of the myth of the West (Blake, 1995). While he has been criticized for his lack of realism in his books, especially with respect to dialogue (Topping, 1978), his visual representation of the frontier rings true, ‘and rank among the most striking ever written’ (Blake, 1995). Grey describes both colour and form, with the reader able to form mental images of place through the detailed descriptions of what the lead character Selby sees around him: ‘This vast sweep of rolling grey with its lines of white and its outcroppings of red, leading the eye to the wide upheaval of land, belted black to the sky, made him catch his breath’ (p. 14). We are told that Selby’s attention is taken away from the girl he is watching in the stage coach (and the potential for a robbery) by the spectacular vistas around him: ‘He gazed in awe at the far-flung ranges, and continued spellbound until the stage rolled down into another valley’ (p. 15). The use of the term dude in the title of the book would have been evocative to audiences in the 1950s. It was originally a 19th-century slang word for a neophyte or greenhorn who came out West to immerse himself in Western life, and became synonymous with the dude ranch, a term for ‘cattle ranches that had failed in the depressions of the 1880s [and reopened] as themed health spas for nervous Eastern dudes on the mend’ (Kuenz, 2001, p. 110). The popularity of these ranches peaked in the period between the First and Second World Wars, when tourists flocked to enjoy ‘the living memorialization of an imagined past’ (Johnson, 2012, p. 438), one that was evoked for them by the films they had seen and the books they had read. Once worn at the ranch, the wearing of jeans became fashionable back home (Gordon, 1991): part of the play-acting that took place and an example of the transgression of social norms that became mainstream fashion. Some of these ranches are still welcoming visitors today, although the moniker of dude has been dropped (Frost and Laing, 2015), perhaps in recognition that the term now has a different meaning to when it was first coined, as in the film Dude, Where’s My Car? (2000).

The Searchers (Le May, 1954) Unlike the other novels, this story is about people living on the frontier, rather than visitors. It is also set earlier and there is no elegiac romanticization. Just after the Civil War, the settlers on the Texas frontier are struggling with the harsh environment and Comanche attacks: This is a rough country. It’s a country knows how to scour a human man right off the face of itself. A Texan is nothing but a human man way out on a limb … Someday this country will be a fine good place to be. Maybe it needs our bones in the ground before that time can come (p. 61).

When Comanches raid the Edwards’ homestead, everyone is killed, except 10-year-old Debbie, who they carry off. Amos (her uncle) and Marty (her 18-year-old adopted brother) follow the trail, becoming the searchers of the title. Marty quickly realizes that Amos is after vengeance rather than a rescue and that there is ‘no hope, either, visible in Amos’ mind that they would ever find their people alive. Only that creepy relish that he had heard when Amos spoke of killing Comanches’ (p. 39). Their search goes on for 5 years, as they wander through Texas, New Mexico and Indian Territory (now Oklahoma). They follow many leads. Often Debbie seems tantalizingly close, but fate seems to intervene to frustrate them. Refusing to give up, they keep searching and their quest is often painted in Biblical terms. Amos, for example, is described as ‘thick-bearded to the eyes, his hair grown to a great shaggy mane, he looked a little like some wilderness prophet of the Lord’ (pp. 79–80). In contrast to the other two novels, there is no romanticization of their clothing, which is only rarely mentioned and then to emphasize their ragged appearance. As the years pass by they become more and more like the Indians. Marty becomes fluent in Comanche and they adopt native practices to survive in the harsh environment. Caught in a blizzard, Amos even sings a Comanche death song. Over time, they develop a grudging admiration of their foes and are genuinely distraught when they come across a village that has been attacked by the cavalry. Every year or so, they briefly cross back over the settled frontier to gather supplies and information. Marty finds himself ‘taken by another fit of shyness’ and

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‘knew that he didn’t fit with civilized people’ (p. 170). Laurie, the girl Marty left behind, wants him to abandon the search and settle down. Finally, her frustrations well up and she tells him, ‘This is a dreadful country. I’ve come to hate these prairies, every inch of ’em … Nothing to look forward to – or back at, either – I want to go to Memphis. Or Vicksburg, or New Orleans’ (p. 221). Marty is tempted, but then another lead appears. Laurie confronts him again, telling him the truths he doesn’t want to hear. She argues that as Debbie has lived with the Comanche for 5 years ‘she won’t come with you if you find her … It’s too late by many years’ (p. 231). She may even have children. Going further, she asks him, ‘Do you know what Amos will do if he finds Deborah Edwards? … He’ll put a bullet in her brain’. Marty’s response is ‘only if I’m dead’ (pp. 232–233). Marty leaves on the last leg of his quest, but Laurie has had enough and marries another suitor. This confrontation mirrors that between the romantic leads of The Virginian, though in this case Debbie makes good on her threats to leave Marty. Interestingly, the film version of The Searchers opts for the conventional Virginian-style resolution. They enter the village of the warchief Scar, where they have been told Debbie is being held. They realize that they have been there many times before as traders. For all their work in gathering information, the Comanches have successfully hidden Scar and Debbie from them. They talk with Scar, who hates whites as they have killed all his sons. Debbie, now 16 years old, comes to their camp and speaks with Marty in Comanche. The reunion, however, is in line with Laurie’s predictions, ‘the meeting toward which he had worked for years had turned into a nightmare’ (p. 268). She tells them that Scar is her father, he bought her from some other Indians and has raised her as a Comanche. When Amos tells her that Scar killed her real father and mother, she refuses to believe them. She refuses to leave the Comanches, for ‘these are my people’ (p. 270). Marty and Amos join the cavalry and Texas Rangers in an attack on Scar. After an epic battle, Scar is defeated. Amos rides after a Comanche girl he mistakes for Debbie. She shoots him as he picks her up to take her home. Marty tracks Debbie, who has taken the opportunity to

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escape. She tells him ‘I have no place. They are dead, I have no place’. Desperately, Marty questions her ‘Have you forgotten? Don’t you remember anything about when you were a little girl, at all?’ In a ‘strangely mixed tongue of IndianEnglish’, she replies ‘I remember. I remember it all. But you the most’ (pp. 307–308). Le May was an established writer who shifted to Hollywood in the late 1930s. Successful as a screenwriter, he longed to become a director, but his one effort was a commercial and critical failure. Disillusioned, he decided to return to writing. Noting that cinematic Westerns were turning towards darker themes, he began work on fictionalizing the real-life story of Cynthia Anne Parker, who had been kidnapped by Comanches in 1836 and was not rescued until 1860 (Frankel, 2013). It is also likely that Le May was influenced by George Custer’s My Life on the Plains (Custer, 1874), which also recounts an expedition to recover captured white children. The Searchers follows the structure of the katabasis from Greek mythology. This is a dangerous and epic journey – literally the descent – which the heroes must undertake. Typically, in order to recover something or somebody, a quest must be undertaken into a realm that is forbidden and hellish (Laing and Frost, 2012b). The Texas frontier is certainly depicted as the realm of the dead. It is also a forsaken zone, for during the period of the search for Debbie, the US has pulled back its troops. The area of conflict is expanding as both sides retaliate for raids. Amos and Marty are conscious that they are racing against time, that a ‘Day of Reckoning’ is coming (a strong parallel with Lord of the Rings, which was co-incidentally published in the same year). The fighting between Comanches and whites is becoming more widespread and constant and Amos and Marty know that soon the US will change its policy and send in troops, which will probably lead to the Comanches killing all their white captives. To journey through this realm, Amos and Marty must become like the Indians, learning and respecting their ways. This alienates them from white society. How will they ever be able to return and settle down? Written in the 1950s, The Searchers has obvious Cold War overtones. Debbie’s captor convinces her that he has rescued her, that he is now her father and that her real relatives are

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liars. She tells Amos and Marty that their quest is wrong, they are wrong, she is happy with her new life. In the vernacular of the fifties, she has been brainwashed. As Marty comments ‘She believes them, not us. Like as if they took out her brain and put in an Indian brain instead’ (pp. 280–281).

Conclusion The three books examined in this chapter all provide messages for potential tourists. They promise the reader that if they travel to the American West, there will be certain images, atmosphere and experiences. Along with other media (including other books, magazines, television, films and even video games) they construct a powerful destination image that has drawn tourists to the West for the last 150 years. The appeal is general in that it can be applied to a large area of the USA. Tourism to the geographical places specifically mentioned in these books is limited and this contrasts strongly with much of the previous literary tourism literature being focused on sites associated with plots or authors that have high visitation. In Wyoming, the towns of Medicine Bow and Buffalo have museums which feature the connections of the towns to The Virginian, both through being featured in the novel and in being visited by Owen Wister. For Zane Grey, there is a museum at his birthplace in Norwich, Ohio and the house he lived at in Lackawaxen in Pennsylvania. Both are notable for not being located in the West, but rather where he was born and worked. An area of Arizona is marketed to tourists as Zane Grey Country, trading on a number of his novels being set there. The greatest disconnection occurs with The Searchers, for tourists visit Monument Valley (Arizona), where the film was shot, rather than sites in Texas where the novel was set. However, examining how tourists are drawn to specific sites is outside the scope of this study. Rather, our analysis has focused on how Western novels create images of the West in general, including often promising that travelling to the West will be transformative.

In each of these books, the key players are outsiders. In The Virginian, both Wister and Molly are newcomers from the East. Even the Virginian himself has only been in the West for just over a decade. In The Dude Ranger, the hero Selby is also recently arrived from the East. In The Searchers, the main characters are all Texans, but are forced to cross the frontier and venture further West. Such characters act accordingly as mediators describing the unfamiliar landscape and customs through fresh eyes. As fellow outsiders, they translate what is happening to them into terms that make sense to the mainly urban readership. This allows the reader to construct an attractive and coherent place of the imagination that they may desire to visit (Reijnders, 2011). These novels make two key promises to the reader. The first is that travel to the West will be transformative. All of the main characters in these novels are transformed through their travels. Wister and Molly in The Virginian improve their health. The Virginian develops into a natural leader and he and Molly find romance. Selby has similar experiences in The Dude Ranger, proving himself worthy of the comradeship of his fellow cowhands. Even though it is a far darker narrative, The Searchers examines how Marty finds maturity and self-worth through his travails. Such views of the transformative nature of the American frontier are based on the arguments of Turner (1893) and these novels may be seen as affirming a popular and widespread view. Travel to and across the frontier – as expounded in these novels – is a test. Personal transformation comes from successfully negotiating the challenges and dangers. All of the key characters are in danger of death. For the armchair reader/potential tourist, there is an attraction in a frontier world that promises risk (Best, 2009). Travel to the West is constructed as an adventure, with risks that will test them. Of course, the danger in reality is not at the same level as in these novels, but they create a fantasy that appeals. The second promise is of authenticity. The West is portrayed as a place where people are real and one can find one’s ‘real self ’. Such a view is strongly promoted by The Virginian and the later novels continue in this vein. Reinforcement of this authenticity comes through an emphasis on the accoutrements of the historical West, particularly the distinctive clothing, but also the weaponry, horses

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and vernacular language. As Buchmann et al. (2010) observed of Lord of the Rings tourists in New Zealand, a mythical world may be easily imagined as authentic. For readers, these novels create such an imaginary world that one

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feels it is still possible to visit. Like Wister and Selby, tourists can enact this fantasy, through authentic clothing and behaviour, taking on a new – albeit temporary – identity during their travels.

References Best, G. (2009) Desire, incidental tourism, and the other: Being Japanese in three Australian film landscapes. Tourism Review International 13(2), 129–137. DOI: 10.3727/154427209789604561. Blake, K.S. (1995) Zane Grey and images of the American West. Geographical Review 85(2), 202–216. DOI: 10.2307/216063. Buchmann, A., Moore, K. and Fisher, D. (2010) Experiencing film tourism: Authenticity and fellowship. Annals of Tourism Research 37(1), 229–248. Cawelti, J.G. (1970) Prolegomena to the Western. Western American Literature 4(4), 259–271. DOI: 10.1353/wal.1970.0008. Cox, J.R. (2000) The Dime Novel Companion: A Source Book. The Greenwood Press, Westport, Connecticut. Custer, G.A. (1874) My Life on the Plains (1963 reprint). The Folio Society, London. Fawcett, C. and Cormack, P. (2001) Guarding authenticity at literary tourism sites. Annals of Tourism Research 28(3), 686–704. DOI: 10.1016/S0160-7383(00)00062-1. Frankel, G. (2013) The Searchers: The Making of an American Legend. Bloomsbury, New York. Frost, W. and Hall, C.M. (2009) Reinterpreting the creation myth: Yellowstone National Park. In: Frost, W. and Hall,C.M. (eds) Tourism and National Parks: International Perspectives on Development, Histories and Change. Routledge, London, pp. 16–29. Frost, W. and Laing, J. (2015) Imagining the American West Through Film and Tourism. Routledge, London. Gartner, W.C. (1994) Image formation process. Journal of Travel & Tourism Marketing 2(2–3), 191–216. DOI: 10.1300/J073v02n02_12. George-Warren, H. and Freedman, M. (2001) How the West Was Worn. Harry N. Abrams, New York. Gordon, B. (1991) American denim: Blue jeans and their multiple layers of meaning. In: Cunningham, P.A. and Voso Lab,S. (eds) Dress and Popular Culture. Bowling Green State University Popular Press, Bowling Green, Ohio, pp. 31–45. Grey, Z. (1952) The Dude Ranger. Hamish Hamilton, London. Herbert, D. (2001) Literary places, tourism and the heritage experience. Annals of Tourism Research 28(2), 312–333. DOI: 10.1016/S0160-7383(00)00048-7. Hitt, J. (1990) The American West from Fiction (1823–1976) into Film (1909–1986). McFarland, Jefferson, North Carolina. Howard, C. (2012) Horizons of possibilities: The telos of contemporary Himalayan travel. Literature & Aesthetics 22(1), 131–155. Johnson, A.R. (2012) Romancing the dude ranch, 1926–1947. Western Historical Quarterly 43(4), 437–461. Kuenz, J. (2001) The cowboy businessman and ‘the course of Empire’: Owen Wister’s The Virginian. Cultural Critique 48(Spring), 98–128. Laing, J. and Frost, W. (2012a) Books and Travel: Inspiration, Quests and Transformation. Channel View, Bristol, UK. Laing, J. and Frost, W. (2012b) Travel as hell: Exploring the katabatic structure of travel fiction. Literature and Aesthetics 22(1), 215–233. Laing, J.H. and Frost, W. (2017) Journeys of well-being: Women's travel narratives of transformation and self-discovery in Italy. Tourism Management 62, 110–119. DOI: 10.1016/j.tourman.2017.04.004. Le May, A. (1954) The Searchers (2013 reprint). Pinnacle, New York. Månsson, M. (2011) Mediatized tourism. Annals of Tourism Research 38(4), 1634–1652. DOI: 10.1016/j. annals.2011.02.008. McClinchey, K.A. (2015) Travel books, place experience and the ‘Je ne sais quoi’ of Paris. Tourism Geographies 17(5), 701–718. DOI: 10.1080/14616688.2015.1066843.

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McGrath, A. (2001) Playing colonial: Cowgirls, cowboys, and Indians in Australia and North America. Journal of Colonialism and Colonial History 2(1), 1–27. DOI: 10.1353/cch.2001.0010. McGrath, A. (2007) Being Annie Oakley: modern girls, new world woman. Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies 28(1), 203–231. DOI: 10.1353/fro.2007.0032. Mohs, C. (2015) ‘The man was forever looking for that which he never found’: The Western and automotive tourism in the early twentieth century. Western American Literature 50(3), 225–249. DOI: 10.1353/wal.2015.0062. Murdoch, D.H. (2001) The American West: The Invention of a Myth. University of Nevada Press, Reno. Pitchford, S. (2008) Identity Tourism: Imaging and Imagining the Nation. Emerald, Bingley, UK. Pomeroy, E. (1957) In Search of the Golden West: The Tourist in Western America. Knopf, New York. Reijnders, S. (2011) Stalking the Count: Dracula, fandom and tourism. Annals of Tourism Research 38(1), 231–248. Riley, G. (1999) Women and Nature: Saving the ‘Wild’ West. University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln, Nebraska. Rothman, H.K. (1998) Devil’s Bargains: Tourism in the Twentieth Century American West. University of Kansas Press, Lawrence, Kansas. Scharnhorst, G. (2015) Owen Wister and the West. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Oklahoma. Slotkin, R. (1992) Gunfighter Nation: The Myth of the Frontier in Twentieth Century America. Athenaeum, New York. Tompkins, J. (1992) West of Everything: The Inner Life of Westerns. Oxford University Press, New York. Topping, G. (1978) Zane Grey: A literary reassessment. Western American Literature 13(1), 51–64. DOI: 10.1353/wal.1978.0085. Turner, F.J. (1893) The Frontier in American History, 1962 edition. Holt, Rinehart & Winston, New York. Watts, S. (2003) Rough Rider in the White House: Theodore Roosevelt and the Politics of Desire. University of Chicago Press, Chicago. White, R. (1991) ‘It’s Your Misfortune and None of My Own’: A New History of the American West. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Oklahoma. Wister, O. (1902) The Virginian: A Horseman of the Plains (2010 reprint). Signet, New York. Wrobel, D.M. and Long, P.T. (eds) (2001) Seeing and Being Seen: Tourism in the American West. University of Kansas Press, Lawrence, Kansas.

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The Making of the Literary City: Edinburgh, Barcelona and Óbidos

Lénia Marques* Erasmus University Rotterdam, Rotterdam, The Netherlands

Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life. Oscar Wilde, The Decay of Lying

Introduction Much of the fascination around literary tourism comes from the combination of imaginary and real. Literature deals with the imaginary, making one dream and visualize new stories, new characters and new places. Meanwhile readers grow and find themselves on a lonesome journey, which can also be a meaningful experience deep-rooted in the social fabric. This imaginary world goes hand in hand with a human need to give specific contours to what surrounds us, thus characters and places gain shapes, textures and smells. The book, the tangible element opening the door wide to the imaginary world, reminds the reader of that tangible reality in which also the writer would have been surrounded. Literary tourism, either as pilgrimage or as result of serendipity, puts the curious reader on the track of appropriating that world and its characters. This is, however, only one plan of the literary tourism scene. The first contact with a writer and their stories can be made while being a literary tourist at a specific place where interpretation and storytelling take place. As an example, while visiting Edinburgh, visitors might come into contact with the widely known story The

Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson, without having heard about it before. Visitors can join a literary tour where, with a bit of drama, they are told where the writer lived, where the characters were meeting, what inspired them in the city, which dark corners hid human cruelty and misery. By joining the tour, visitors are given a second-hand interpretation at the crossroads of the written narrative, the facts and the places (even if no longer there, it is possible to use imagination to re-build them). This contact with literature in the city adds to the visitor’s experience of place, contributing to sense of place in general. The layers of meaning behind such interpretations and use of literature to flag a certain location are therefore highly complex, as they involve the text, the psychology of the reader/visitor, but also feed on tangible heritage, businesses (bookshops, pubs, tours), as well as being partly the result of decisions made by the local administration (Ridanpää, 2011). Music tourism and film tourism share many elements in common with literary tourism (Reijnders et  al., 2015). And film-induced tourism has definitely many overlaps with literary tourism, since the production of books and films is strongly connected (Jewell and McKinnon, 2008; Beeton, 2016).

*​marques@​eshcc.​eur.​nl © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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The present chapter interrogates the image of the ‘literary city’, in particular with the emergence of the UNESCO Creative Cities Network and the title of ‘City of Literature’ (awarded since 2004). Considering the complex relationships between literature and place in global contexts, the first question to ask is: How is the literary city configured and which elements are important in its recognition? To try to answer this question, we first delve into the manifold relationships between literature and the city before addressing some main issues in literary tourism and city marketing. Afterwards, by analysing three cases of UNESCO’s Cities of Literature, configuring elements of the literary city are identified.

Literature and the City Literary cities, or more generally, literary places, have existed since literature itself, in the sense that they are the places where writers are born, live and die; or they are the places where the literary action takes place (Herbert, 2001). In this sense, the literary city is not a new phenomenon. The importance of the literary city, however, has been rising in recent years. Cities like Paris or London have been places of literary inspiration for a long time. Since the Grand Tour, tourism mobility has often been inspired by the readings made by these first tourists, the bourgeoisie who read the classics and let their minds be stimulated by these imaginary worlds. While literary tourism is not new, the forms in which it has been manifesting itself have been changing. This also makes it an ever abundant ground for research (Herbert, 1996). The relationships between the city and literature are fertile. Locations, in particular urban spaces, have been using different resources and strategies which contribute to their positioning. The relationship between place and literature is as old as literature itself; however, it has taken many different forms over the years. For centuries, people have been inspired to travel based on literary descriptions, or to visit places related to an author, sometimes in what can be considered a literary pilgrimage (Brown, 2016; Watson, 2013). These relationships are at the basis of literary tourism studies, as Squire (1992, 1996), Herbert (2001) and Smith (2003) have

Literary text

Location

Writers’ life

Fig. 6.1.  Major components of literary place configurations.

illustrated. In these studies one can find suggested typologies of the literary tourist and be acquainted with a range of analyses of literary representations of places (Fawcett and Cormack, 2001; Watson, 2006, 2009). In some places, the connection to a literary character is generated endogenously , i.e. it emerges more or less organically and it is often related to the vision of only a few people (Marques and Cunha, 2013; Hoppen et  al., 2014). However, other practices have been emerging. Places have been increasingly strategic in their approach to this relationship between literature and a physical location (Squire, 1996; Robinson, 2002). For many locations, this relationship is becoming a stepping stone in their positioning and marketing campaigns (Díaz and García, 2014; Mansfield, 2015; Bonniot, 2016), as well as in their placemaking strategies. The relationship between locations and literature can be seen from different perspectives, which start off from the literary text or from the writer (Fig.  6.1). These are the two basic elements which compose the different configurations of this relationship. This essentially bilateral relationship corresponds to a certain extent to what has been considered traditionally the relationship between places and literature: real-life places (which take the writer as the starting point) and the imagined places. The latter correspond on the one hand to what is present in the literary text, and on the other hand to what is interpreted and imagined by the reader (Squire, 1994; Herbert, 2001). This reader should be considered from a broader perspective than only in literary studies. The person in contact with the text interprets it (cf. e.g. Iser, 1978; Fish, 1980), and if the literary text is the basis for interpretation, the act of interpretation can in fact be extended to other levels (Marques and Cunha, 2013). These can include the interpretation of excerpts that visitors might find in the city, for example in museums,

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houses of writers, plaques, websites or in events and marketing campaigns. Interpretation can also be extended by hearing others people’s comments (friends, TV, radio, social media) and, of course, by watching films and TV series. This association between literary tourism and filminduced tourism has been addressed by several authors (e.g. Busby and Klug, 2001; Macionis, 2004; Connell, 2005; Buchmann, 2006; Light, 2007; Buchmann et  al., 2010; Connell, 2012; O'Connor and Kim, 2014; Beeton, 2016). Different dimensions of the city in literature have also been examined through different lenses and within a diversity of disciplines, such as literary studies, cultural studies, urban studies and human geography (cf. e.g. Lehan, 1998; Tambling, 2017). The presence of literature in the fabric of the city can take a variety of forms, such as:

curiosity, either there or back at home, this person can find out more about Orwell’s texts on Catalonia and his involvement in the Civil War. The experience, impression and image of a city, as well as the meaning between writer, literary text and place, are therefore potentially different in each case. However, if each person has their own personal experience of this relationship between literature and city, it is possible to cluster some types of ‘readers’, in this case the ones where literature and location come together through the act of travelling: the literary tourists.

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The multiple connections between literature and place are not surprisingly mirrored by a series of dimensions of the reader/visitor to the place and to the literary text. Therefore, when considering literary tourism, different typologies have been emerging, trying to frame these different relationships and dimensions (Butler, 1986; Herbert, 2001). We can, however, question their legitimacy and adequacy in the current literary tourism landscape and in their role in helping to understand the configurations of the literary city. Literary tourism has been studied since the 1980s, but these investigations are diffuse, providing only a partial view of literary-related tourism. This form of tourism entails the mobility of people driven by a literary text, character or writer. However, as noted in the previous sections, there are other elements to take into account. Literary tourism can also be seen from the supply’s perspective, where tourism products can be offered that are not necessarily known or requested by the visitor (Stiebel, 2009). In this sense, there are pull and push factors that underlie the different encounters of people with the literary heritage/place and these also configure the different types of literary tourism that have been identified in precedent studies (Hoppen et al., 2014). In his early study, Butler (1986) identified four types of literary tourism. The first relates to aspects of homage to an actual location, of which, books like Hemingway’s A Movable Feast (Paris) or Paulo Coelho’s The Pilgrimage (Santiago de Compostela) are examples. The second type of literary tourism

• • • • • • • • • • •

Place(s) where the story occurs. Names of streets or buildings/other constructions (from iconic buildings, such as the Walter Scott monument in Edinburgh, to a bridge, names of libraries, buildings, bars or restaurants, which can be inspired both by characters and the writer’s life). Writers’ graves. Writers’ houses (place of birth, life and/or death). Writers’ museums/other museums where elements of literary life are included. Commemorative plaques. Bookshops. Libraries. Literary (pub) tours. Statues. Pamphlets, posters, postcards and other printed materials. Gifts and merchandising. Festivals.

These forms of presence of literature in a city are in themselves interpretations and constitute yet other levels of the imaginary – each little bit helps to build up a certain image of the place. Although the image of the literary place might be shared collectively, as Herbert (2001) points out, it is subject to personal interpretation and meaning making (Fairer-Wessels, 2005; Earl, 2008). The experience of the place is then shaped by interpretation and meaning. For example, somebody visiting Barcelona could find a square dedicated to George Orwell. Out of

Literary Tourism

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would be related to places important in a work of fiction (e.g. Walter Scott’s Edinburgh, Victor Hugo’s Paris or, more recently, Carlos Ruiz Zafón’s Barcelona). The other type of literary tourism is related to locations and specific sites frequented by literary (and other) figures, such as cafés (examples are Café A Brasileira or Café Nicola in Lisbon; La Floridita in Havana; Els 4 Gats in Barcelona; Les Deux Magots in Paris). The fourth type of literary tourism relates to places where literature provides the grounds for a destination becoming popular, and reinforces its positioning as a literary tourist destination. Paris, London or Edinburgh can be evoked, together with other more unexpectedly literary places, such as Óbidos or Iowa. This approach, however, is mostly based on a view of literary tourism as a specialty (Busby and Klug, 2001), since these sites and their history motivate the visits. The visitors with such specific motivations correspond to what Herbert (2001) has later defined as a pilgrim literary tourist. These are tourists with an interest extended to specific literary places, literary guides, literary hotels and literary cafés, among others. At the same time, Busby and Klug (2001) have added to Butler’s conceptualization of literary tourism by updating and reframing it. Busby and Klug (2001) suggest two other forms, which consist of travel writing and film-induced literary tourism. Travel writing could in fact be considered in the sense of people travelling to tell their own stories or having people following the trail of travel writers. In the latter, it is a secondhand interpretation (or re-interpretation) and it can have several successive followers and interpretations, either in travelling, text or film, as illustrated by Marques and Biscaia (2012). Film-induced literary tourism is, according to Busby and Klug (2001), when the film has more influence than the book. The literary text becomes secondary, a mere instrument which reminds and relates to the film (and not the other way around). In this case, the film also serves as a medium that revives literary works (e.g. Lord of the Rings or Dracula), which contributes to reenergize or revamp destinations (Hoppen et al., 2014). These developments make the book more interesting for a wider audience, with reading as a post-film experience, where both film and literary text are connected to a place, and of which the book becomes the tangible – mediatic

– object of the memory and attachment to the film (Eat Pray Love is another example). These relationships and considerations about (in)tangibility have equally been present in debates around the definition and categorization of literary tourism as: (i) heritage tourism (Herbert, 2001; Hede and Thyne, 2007), (ii) cultural tourism, or (iii) media tourism (Busby and Klug, 2001; Kim et  al., 2007; Reijnders et  al., 2015). In practice, it could belong to either category, as any type of media is also part of (tangible or intangible) heritage. At the crossings of media tourism and cultural tourism, reports like that of Mintel (2011) situate literary tourism as a form of media tourism, integrated in creative tourism, which, according to Richards and Wilson (2006) is a development of cultural tourism. The difficulty in categorizing literary tourism has been even more accentuated when considering new layers of interpretation through digital technology: blogs, websites, interpretative panels in situ, online museums, QR codes or Augmented Reality (e.g. Pudliner, 2007). Connected to these forms, and within the literary world, other expressions of literary tourism have emerged, such as those related to literary festivals or bookshops. These extensions of literary tourism as well as its different interpretative layers of text and place, correspond to an evolution of the profile of the tourist, who is becoming more travelled, informed and demanding, i.e. a ‘sophisticated cultural traveller’ (Schmied, 2005) whose preference seems to be going towards ‘lifeseeing’ more than ‘sightseeing’ (OECD, 2009). In this sense, making literary tourism a form of search for more active engagement and more meaningful experiences within a local culture is indeed in line with what creative tourism entails (Richards, 2011; World Tourism Organization, 2018). Literary tourism involves meaning creation, exploration and memory extension, for example related to childhood (Squire, 1994). This form of tourism is consequently becoming an important field for developing engaging experiences and providing additional opportunities for tourism consumption (Hoppen et al., 2014). Many destinations have been embracing these opportunities and have been turning to their – literary – resources to use them strategically, some simply by trying to preserve their heritage, others by enhancing their literary focus.

The Making of the Literary City

Some places create literary-related events and even develop an overall literary strategy, such as Scotland or Ireland (Wallace, 2009). In other places, life imitates fiction, as in the case of Tormes in rural Portugal as imagined by Eça de Queiroz (Marques and Cunha, 2013). Whatever the relationship might be between real and fiction, these forms of presence of literature in a place contribute to build the image of that place block by block. These interpretations of literature can take different shapes in the same place, such as the references to the poet Fernando Pessoa in Lisbon, which are used differently by a range of stakeholders. They can also be an expression of an overall strategy and storyline, which contribute to the branding of a place as well as to its overall narrative (Kavaratzis, 2004; Kavaratzis and Ashworth, 2008; Kavaratzis and Hatch, 2013; Lichrou et al., 2008, 2010, 2014; Kavaratzis and Ashworth, 2008; Marques and Richards, 2014).

City Marketing and Literature In the field of tourism, destination marketing is continuously taking new shapes, as it accompanies the challenges and rapid developments of 21stcentury practices. Cities are increasingly turning inwards, trying to understand and pinpoint what makes them distinct. This quest for distinction relates to identity, and even more to competitiveness of tourism destinations. Literature, the term used here in a broad sense encompassing all elements, including literary figures, has become one of the sources to build on such distinctiveness. These literary assets, which are part of the existing heritage, are explicitly used and highlighted, also in the (hi)story of that place. Examples are manifold, including the Hay Festival of Literature and Arts (Wales) or ‘La Floridita’ in Cuba, a café connected mainly to Ernest Hemingway. Not all locations use literary assets to the same extent, and while in some places they are strategically used for development, in others they constitute a more isolated action related to a specific venue or literary episode. Sometimes, particularly when associated with a film, marketing campaigns are enormous, which leads to a sudden growth of the number of visitors to certain places; The Lord of the Rings film locations in New Zealand are an

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illustrative example (Hudson and Ritchie, 2006). In these cases, serious negative consequences might emerge, since there is a lack of structures in place to deal with the phenomenon (Squire, 1994; Müller, 2006). Besides, matters of authenticity and commodification arise in the use of literary assets for destination marketing, as these assets can then be used in a way to ‘represent the consumption, production, re-production, commodification, transformation, communication, and distribution of literature for tourism purposes’ (Robinson and Anderson, 2002). It becomes clear that ‘these places create a new dimension of additional marketing programmes where literary connection alone may be enough to increase its appeal within wider categories of tourists’ (Busby and Shetliffe, 2013). However, discussions on the limits and ethical boundaries of such use are frequent (Squire, 1994; Herbert, 1996, 2001; Goulding, 2000; Heitmann, 2010). There are different dimensions in the use of literature (and other forms of art) in destination marketing, and together these dimensions form the narrative of place (Marques and Richards, 2014). As Morgan and Pritchard (1998) highlight, reinforced by Busby et al. (2003), at stake here is not only the promotion of a destination, but also the creation of identities (Kavaratzis and Hatch, 2013). This process goes beyond marketing and branding, as it includes different interpretations of tourists, residents and other stakeholders, both within formal and informal networks. Also because of their size, urban spaces tend to use more destination marketing strategies (hence the expression city marketing), although, among literary destinations, there are not only cities, but also towns, villages or remote rural sites (Müller, 2006; Yiannakis and Davies, 2012; Marques and Cunha, 2013), which are increasingly employing similar strategies to position and develop themselves. Kavaratzis (2004) points out three strategies of urban planning in city branding. The first one relates to personality branding, i.e. a certain figure becomes central in promoting the place (for example, Gabriel García Márquez or Jane Austen). The second relates to a flagship construction (less common in literary-related tourism, but existing in film-induced literary tourism). The third strategy relates to events branding, which means that places use events as a marketing tool. When transposed to literary

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tourism destinations, the most common would be personality branding. More recently the importance of literary-related events has been a strategic tool used in different locations (e.g. Berlin International Literature Festival in Germany; Hay Festival of Literature and the Arts in Wales; or Festivaletteratura in Italy). Overall, when considering literary-related tourism, there seems to be a strong co-presence of different imaginaries. As Robinson (2002) points out, ‘the interface between tourism and literature represents an alliance of imaginations’ and, in the end, ‘the tourism industry continues to respond to consumer preferences for activity, interaction, adventure, high visibility, education and sensory experience all within increasingly compressed timescales’. This is also when imaginary and real worlds become fused and the boundaries become blurred. This is what happens when we evoke the concept of the ‘literary city’: is it a place like ‘the library of Babel’ imagined by Jorge Luis Borges? Or is it a combination of different (strategic) elements? How does a city become a literary city? The answer is probably somewhere in-between, as imaginary and strategy are both important for a city to become known by its literary tangible and intangible assets. Dimensions related to cognitive and emotional constructions were also recognized and increasingly included in studies on destination marketing. Kavaratzis and Ashworth (2008) integrate these dimensions more specifically when addressing ‘marketing as corporate communication’, which entails ‘creating and managing emotional and psychological associations with the place’ (from landscape to behaviour). Meaningful connections to a geographical space are therefore at the basis of literary placemaking.

From Imaginary to Reality: Creating the Literary City To understand how a place becomes a literaryrecognized destination, different lenses could be used. The arguments are varied, and it is evident from the sections above that a complex range of elements is combined and provides a different story to each literary place. In this section, the focus will be on how different places have used literature as leverage to promote and even

build themselves as literary (touristic) places. From the range of possible examples, three European sites designated UNESCO Cities of Literature are examined: Edinburgh, Barcelona and Óbidos. Edinburgh was the first UNESCO City of Literature (2004) and both Barcelona and Óbidos were awarded the title in 2015. This choice allows a comparison of three different locations, two large cities which were awarded the title years apart (Edinburgh and Barcelona) and locations of different size which were awarded the title at the same time (Barcelona and Óbidos). The comparison therefore allows an insight into the similarities and differences that emerge from the comparison of literary places, to understand which elements can be developed, on the one hand, for getting attention as a literary place, and, on the other hand, for identifying the distinctive characteristics that make them creative (literary) hubs. The UNESCO City of Literature title is part of the Creative Cities programme with which UNESCO aims to acknowledge ‘the commitment manifested by cities to place creativity at the core of their development strategies’ (UNESCO, 2015). With its seven creative fields (Literature, Design, Music, Film, Gastronomy, Media Arts, and Crafts & Folks Arts), the Creative Cities programme has been a response to the significant growth of the Creative Industries, together with the need for finding new ways to valorize intangible heritage and contribute to a dynamic and lively urban landscape (Marques, 2017). In this way, it is UNESCO’s aim to contribute to making ‘cities and human settlements inclusive, safe, resilient and sustainable’ and identifies culture and creativity as one of the essential levers for action in this context’ (UNESCO, n.d.). This programme and the criteria for becoming a UNESCO City of Literature aim to set out a lively literary scene – where literature is alive and contributes to the creative dynamic of the city, as it can be drawn from the criteria guiding the award (see Table 6.1). According to UNESCO, a City of Literature is much more than a city relying only on its writers or on the literary works related to it. In this sense, literary tourism is also responding to many of these different facets, with bookshop tourism, literary festivals-related tourism, book fairs tourism or literary tours and appeals for (literary-related) creative hubs. A City of Literature

The Making of the Literary City

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Table 6.1.  Criteria for award of UNESCO City of Literature. (From UNESCO, 2015) • Quality, quantity and diversity of publishing in the city. • Quality and quantity of educational programmes focusing on domestic or foreign literature at primary, secondary and tertiary levels. • Literature, drama and/or poetry playing an important role in the city. • Hosting literary events and festivals which promote domestic and foreign literature. • Existence of libraries, bookstores and public or private cultural centres which preserve, promote and disseminate domestic and foreign literature. • Involvement by the publishing sector in translating literary works from diverse national languages and foreign literature. • Active involvement of traditional and new media in promoting literature and strengthening the market for literary products.

is also developed or in development to become a literary ‘eventful city’ (Richards and Palmer, 2010), attracting visitors and becoming a talent magnet for the creative class (Florida, 2014; Richards and Hannigan, 2017). However, how do these elements combine to make the literary city? Edinburgh, capital city of Scotland, has had for centuries a strong connection to literature. With many literary figures connected to the city and also the city as a setting in fiction, Edinburgh has built on this heritage by expanding and diversifying its links to literature. The literaryscape in Edinburgh is therefore manifold, from the pure literary connection to writers and books (fiction), to the wide range of bookshops and famous festivals, such as the Edinburgh International Book Festival. The important publishing scene of Edinburgh as well as its lively contemporary scene with emergent writers also contributed to making Edinburgh the first UNESCO City of Literature in 2004. Setting the pace as well a high standard for other Cities of Literature, the pioneer Edinburgh City of Literature has been very active in promoting and developing its programme (cf. http://www.​cityofliterature.​ com/). Besides organized tours, Edinburgh is home to several libraries and the Scottish Storytelling Centre (http://www.​tracscotland.​org/​scottish-​storytelling-​centre). In the city’s event portfolio, literature plays a major role, and these events attract locals as well as tourists to enjoy a lively literary environment and celebrate literature in its different forms. Edinburgh and Barcelona have been stages for

different manifestations of literary life and offer tangible and intangible literary elements which permeate daily life. These elements present in the fabric of the location contribute to the sense of place, collective identity and place narrative (Kavaratzis and Hatch, 2013; Marques and Richards, 2014; Hoppen et  al., 2014). Edinburgh has been an example of best practices as a creative literary city, and this strategic relationship to literature has positioned the city in terms of tourism (Robinson, 2002). Moreover, also in terms of identity, literature has been playing a fundamental role, which is in line with Scotland’s strategic policy plan for literature. With a more modern image than Edinburgh, Barcelona, the second biggest city in Spain, was awarded UNESCO City of Literature in 2015. Like Edinburgh, Barcelona has a strong history with literature, often connected to the political issues and challenges of the city, the region and the country, particularly in the last century. Highly celebrated, this city of modernism decided also to reinforce its world presence as a literary hub. Besides the historic presence of world-renowned writers in the city, the regional publishing scene is extremely rich. This also corresponds to a particular love for books in Catalonia, and in Barcelona in particular, represented in the popular celebration of Sant Jordí (23 April). This special day is known as the celebration of the Book and the Rose, a moment where people make the gift of books and roses. This inspirational yearly event is spread all over the city, being also a showcase for (new) writers and publishers (cf. http://​ajuntament.​

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barcelona.​cat/​ciutatdelaliteratura/​es/#). Even though Sant Jordí is popular among tourists, it is mainly an event made by and for residents. As with Edinburgh, there are various bookshops. In recent years, literary tours based on fiction novels have emerged that have been translated into different languages and are aimed mainly at tourists. And more recently an underground literary route was suggested and developed by the local transportation company and Kindle to celebrate Sant Jordí in 2018 (Línia K: ‘línia de metro literària de Barcelona’). Trying to make the most out of its highly touristic profile, the decision to bid for the title was not just to keep Barcelona’s literary heritage and publishing scene going, but also to valorize an asset with an overlooked potential. Therefore, in Barcelona, this form of cultural tourism is in the process of being explored. As with other cities, Barcelona also had to position itself on the literary map. According to Maria Patricio Mulero (participating in the bid writing), Barcelona distinguishes itself by the fact that it has two languages, a capacity of attracting talent and important connections to IberoAmerican countries (Universidad de Barcelona, 2016). In the same year of 2015, in neighbouring Portugal, another place came to be awarded the title of UNESCO City of Literature. Óbidos, a touristic heritage place, attracts many visitors by its peculiar, well-maintained houses inside its medieval walls. Seasonality has been a major issue in Óbido, since during the summer months the medieval town sees the numbers of its visitors rocket. To address this issue, as well as to make it a more modern and lively destination, the municipality has been developing a strong event portfolio, which takes advantage of its privileged setting and location close to the capital, Lisbon, to explore and boost other aspects, less directly related to the history of the old town. Some of these events build on existing traditions and heritage (such as the Medieval Market); others were created in the last 10–20 years, developing at a later stage into an effective branding mechanism (such as the Chocolate Festival or the Christmas Village). Along the way, events in the portfolio were expanded and diversified, adjusted and strategically spread throughout the year. As is the case for Edinburgh and Barcelona at

a larger scale, these different events in Óbidos have reinvented the town as an ‘eventful city’ (Richards and Palmer, 2010). These strategies, as well as a modern discourse in policymaking regarding tourism and culture, have contributed to providing Óbidos with innovative ideas and it gradually becoming a cluster for arts and crafts. Despite being a place visited by writers and referenced and used as a setting in literature, films and TV series, the connections to literature have mainly been developed in recent years. Whereas Edinburgh and Barcelona have already built their literature image and identity, Óbidos is still in the process of doing so. In recent years, there has been a growth in bookshops of different types (mixed with local groceries or in an old church, where there are also concerts), and even a literary hotel started to operate in the town. The high point has been the festival of literature FOLIO (started in 2015). These are some of the main elements that contributed to Óbidos becoming a UNESCO City of Literature, a title which is expected to reinforce the town as a touristic attraction.

Literary City, Placemaking and Tourism The three places were integrated in UNESCO’s Creative Cities Network at different stages and have some common elements. However, Edinburgh, Barcelona and Óbidos have a different cultural and social fabric, which is the source of their distinctive character. The relationship of these cities to literature is different and the ways that literary heritage is integrated in their storylines show sharp distinctions. Unveiling these aspects can provide, on the one hand, insights into the elements which a place needs in order to be(come) literary and put themselves on the map and, on the other, an approach to the elements which might convey distinctiveness. Thus, if cities can learn from these different successful practices, they can also gain by distinguishing themselves and reflect on their specificities in the aspects identified as points of distinction (see Table 6.2). The relationship of literary places to tourism exists much beyond the literary pilgrim. The

The Making of the Literary City

image of the literary city is built more on the curious tourist and other potential types of visitor, as previously pointed out by Herbert (1996, 2001). This indicates a development in terms of networks in which the valorization of literary assets is wider than the scope of individual organizations (such as writers’ houses, or museums). When these developments are compared with Butler’s (1986) literary tourism typology, one can argue that cities are moving away from acting as individualized and one-stand literary attractions based on homage to a writer's location or setting of a work of fiction and becoming more broad and varied in their literary tourism expressions. Literary destinations account for different tangible and intangible forms of literary-related heritage, including events and film-related visits, which form the basis for a destination to become (more) popular.

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This shift in the way literature is being used by cities as a development strategy seems to be increasingly significant in the 21st century. More than just branding or marketing, these efforts correspond to an attempt to create meaning and a storyline which can be used for positioning as a tourism destination, but also as a platform where literary resources are foundational to develop creativity and innovation, and contribute to what UNESCO’s Creative Cities Network states as their aim: creating ‘opportunities for cities to draw on peer learning processes and collaborative projects in order to fully capitalize on their creative assets and use this as a basis for building sustainable, inclusive and balanced development in economic, cultural, environmental and social terms’ (UNESCO, n.d.). Literature becomes the node, or more accurately, the nuclear centre of a creative (literary) hub, where the involvement

Table 6.2.  Configurating elements of literary cities. Similarities

Points of distinction

• Having a storyline

• Different relationships with literature and books

• Celebrating literature

• Distinctive ways of celebrating literature, using often traditional elements (such as Sant Jordí, in Barcelona)

• Existence of at least one major literary event, usually a festival

• Different connection to tradition, innovation and markets for the event(s)

• Eventful cities (having a strategic event portfolio and an events policy)

• Innovation in their own style and in regard to their specific histories and contexts, which is reflected in their event portfolio

• Participation of different stakeholders, including local businesses

• Concentration of literary-related businesses

• Involvement of cultural actors (locally, regionally and nationally, often with international links)

• Level of embeddedness, namely in residents’ perceptions and participation in literary-related activities

• Strong marketing campaigns positioning • Presence in the literary field and in literary texts (in the location as a must-see literary writing, in publishing, as writers’ place of birth, etc.) destination • Aiming at strengthening its image

• Level of internationalization

• Platform for creative projects

• Glocal expressions (using local attributes and developing them at a global level)

• Attracting tourists and creative talent, • Different positioning and levels of development becoming a hub for creative industries (more or less related to the literary world) • Existence of formal and informal strong networks

• Different levels of development (maturity) in the positioning as a literary city

• Connection to tourism

• Attracting different types of visitor

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of different stakeholders is fundamental to fostering opportunities for local development with global impact.

Final Remarks From the analysis and comparisons made in this chapter, it becomes clear that the literary city is shaped in different ways, although it is also evident that this recognition is based on the importance given to a lively interpretation of literary heritage. The limits of the literary city are the limits of the imagination and creativity in ways of ‘being’ and ‘becoming’ a literary city. The places compared in this chapter (Edinburgh, Barcelona and Óbidos) have literature in common, but their relationships with space and time, as well as with stakeholders and collective imaginaries, are distinct. There are certainly common traits, which could also justify why these locations are UNESCO Cities of Literature, although one can argue that these common characteristics are shared with more than the literary places listed in UNESCO’s Creative Cities. Most importantly, their distinctive characteristics mirror the varied multi-dimensional relationships to literature, which encompass literary tourism (Busby and Klug, 2001; Robinson and Anderson, 2002). Literature is used as a means to market the place, and often it is embedded, at least partially, in strategic policymaking for place management (Kavaratzis and Ashworth, 2008). These developments, which involve literary heritage, as well as formal and informal networks, are becoming more intrinsically part of placemaking strategies (Richards, 2017). These involve tourists but also residents, aiming to contribute to developing a place for a better life. However, this does not go without some questioning about how literature and tourism are presented, because, as Robinson and Anderson (2002, p. 32) indicate, the continuing transformations and packaging of the literary for tourists would appear to endorse the social and cultural value of both literature and tourism alike. The process of commodification is, however, invariably selective (…) But the authenticity of literature is in itself a challenging and nebulous concept, and one that relates more to the idea of the literary pilgrim

than the postmodern tourist as an absorber of de-differentiated experiences.

It is indeed a fine balance between the commodification of the literary experience and the perception of literature’s authenticity (however that might be interpreted). Yet literature and (literary) tourism have an immense potential, not only to be used for place marketing, but also to be an integral part of placemaking policies, trying to make cities better places to live, inspired by their literary assets (past, present and fostering future forms). Literature also becomes more than just a birthplace of a writer or a place depicted by a great novel – literary heritage itself becomes part of the place narrative and identity, providing the framework to foster and develop creativity. Creativity and innovation are therefore part of the process and contribute to the development of talent attraction and the creative formation of creative clusters (Florida, 2014). These dimensions are therefore manifold and complex, involving a series of aspects that start out from the art work and can include management, image, marketing, social interpretations, perception, narratives and identity (Marques and Richards, 2014). The differentiation elements of a place are therefore becoming more important for identity as well as for image and narrative, which are part of placemaking for literary cities. There have been some studies focusing on literary tourism and on the relationship to literature and place. However, there are still many dimensions to be explored, some of which were only touched upon in this chapter. One field to explore in more depth relates to the use of technology and interaction tools affecting the interpretation of literary heritage and, consequently, the relationship between literature and the city. Analysis of the developments of the relationship between film-induced tourism and literary tourism would also shed light on product development and place marketing. The research agenda should also include the expansion of literary tourism studies beyond the English language, which are now only marginal (Stiebel, 2004; Cavicchini et al., 2011; Redondo, 2017). The use of literary assets can therefore become more extensive and deeper than a marketing campaign or the action of a very small number of stakeholders directly related to the

The Making of the Literary City

tourism industry. Understanding the processes by which a place can become a literary place, aiming at a broad range of types of tourist and using local contexts can help in an understanding of how far place narrative is being shaped by literary heritage and what the ‘stories’

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(perceptions) of the literary city are. Having this understanding not only allows for more accurate marketing, but also for better strategies for placemaking using, valorizing and building on literary heritage in a manner that makes it more significant for tourists and residents alike.

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Morgan, N. and Pritchard, A. (1998) Tourism Promotion and Power: Creating Images, Creating Identities. John Wiley & Sons Ltd, Chichester, UK. Müller, D.K. (2006) Unplanned development of literary tourism in two municipalities in rural Sweden. Scandinavian Journal of Hospitality and Tourism 6(3), 214–228. DOI: 10.1080/15022250600667433. O'Connor, N. and Kim, S. (2014) Pictures and prose: Exploring the impact of literary and film tourism. Journal of Tourism and Cultural Change 12(1), 1–17. DOI: 10.1080/14766825.2013.862253. OECD (2009) Impact of Culture on Tourism. OECD, Paris. Pudliner, B.A. (2007) Alternative literature and tourist experience: Travel and tourist weblogs. Journal of Tourism and Cultural Change 5(1), 46–59. DOI: 10.2167/jtcc051.0. Redondo, R.J.P. (2017) Un viaje desde lo imaginario a lo real. Una aproximación al perfil del turista literario en España. methaodos.revista de ciencias sociales 5(1), 119–129. DOI: 10.17502/m.rcs. v5i1.158. Reijnders, S., Bolderman, L., Van Es, N. and Waysdorf, A. (2015) Locating imagination: An interdisciplinary perspective on literary, film, and music tourism. Tourism Analysis 20(3), 333–339. DOI: 10.3727/108 354215X14356694891979. Richards, G. (2011) Creativity and tourism: The state of the art. Annals of Tourism Research 38(4), 1225–1253. Richards, G. (2017) From place branding to placemaking: The role of events. International Journal of Event and Festival Management 8(1), 8–23. DOI: 10.1108/IJEFM-09-2016-0063. Richards, G. and Wilson, J. (2006) Developing creativity in tourist experiences: A solution to the serial reproduction of culture? Tourism Management 27(6), 1209–1223. DOI: 10.1016/j.tourman.2005.06.002. Richards, G. and Hannigan, J. (2017) Creative clusters in urban spaces. In: Marques, L. (ed.) The SAGE Handbook of New Urban Studies. Sage, London, p. 343. Ridanpää, J. (2011) Pajala as a literary place: In the readings and footsteps of Mikael Niemi. Journal of Tourism and Cultural Change 9(2), 103–117. DOI: 10.1080/14766825.2011.562979. Robinson, M. (2002) Between and beyond the pages: Literature-tourism relationships. In: Robinson, M. and Andersen, H.C. (eds) Literature and Tourism: Essays in the Reading and Writing of Tourism. Continuum, London, pp. 39–80. Robinson, M. and Anderson, H.C. (eds) (2002) Literature and Tourism: Reading and Writing Tourism Texts. Continuum, London. Schmied, M. (2005) Innovative Marketing Concepts for sustainable tourism proposals (INVENT). Bundesministerium für Bildung und Forschung (ed.). Joint Project ‘Sustainable business activity in the tourism industry’. Available at: http://www.​invent-​tourismus.​de/​pdf/​INVENT_​Projectinfo.​pdf (accessed 11 July 2010). Smith, K.A. (2003) Literary enthusiasts as visitors and volunteers. International Journal of Tourism Research 5(2), 83–95. DOI: 10.1002/jtr.419. Squire, S. (1992) Literature, place, and tourism in L.M. Montgomery’s Prince Edward Island. In: SimpsonHousley, P. and Noreliffe, G. (eds) A Few Acres of Snow: Literary and Artistic Images of Canada. Dundurn, Toronto, Canada, pp. 137–147. Squire, S.J. (1994) The cultural values of literary tourism. Annals of Tourism Research 21(1), 103–120. DOI: 10.1016/0160-7383(94)90007-8. Squire, S.J. (1996) Literary tourism and sustainable tourism: Promoting ‘Anne of Green Gables’ in Prince Edward Island. Journal of Sustainable Tourism 4(3), 119–134. DOI: 10.1080/09669589608667263. Stiebel, L. (2004) Hitting the hot spots: Literary tourism as a research field with particular reference to KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa. Critical Arts 18(2), 31–44. DOI: 10.1080/02560240485310151. Stiebel, L. (2009) On the trail of Rider Haggard in South Africa. In: Watson, N.J. (ed.) Literary Tourism and Nineteenth-century Culture. Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke, UK, pp. 210–219. Tambling, J. (2017) The Palgrave Handbook of Literature and the City. Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke. UNESCO (2015) Creative cities – Call. Available at: http://​en.​unesco.​org/​creative-​cities/​sites/​creative-​ cities/​files/​Designation_​Procedure_​2015Call_​UNESCO_​Creative_​Cities_​Network.​pdf (accessed 17 February 2016). UNESCO (n.d.) Why Creativity? Why Cities? Available at: http://​en.​unesco.​org/​creative-​cities/​content/​ why-​creativity-​why-​cities (accessed 24 May 2019). Universidad de Barcelona (2016) Entrevistes. Available at: http://www.​ub.​edu/​web/​ub/​es/​menu_​eines/​ noticies/​2016/​entrevistes/​maria_​patricio_​mulero.​html (accessed 17 February 2016). Wallace, C. (2009) Yeats’s country and ‘Yeats Country’: conceptualizing literary spaces. Journal of Tourism and Cultural Change 7(1), 48–60. DOI: 10.1080/14766820902803424.

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Part 2: Practical Applications of Literature to the Tourist Experience and Tourist Industry Ian Jenkins

In tourism, words are often secondary to visual images. Yet words are visual and evocative in terms of the ‘mind’s eye’ and can act in a similar way to a picture. A postcard lacking words has limited meaning to the reader; the words enliven and contextualize the narrative to give a new dimension to the locations as seen through the gaze of the writer. This section is an overview of how literature can be enacted as a tourism product rather than just being a book left on a dusty shelf. Words have the energizing power to attract tourists to visit real and imaginary destinations. Enacting the stories and narratives of texts can be considered to be the praxis of the literary tourism experience, whereby theory is transmuted from the ethereal into the existential landscape of the destination. Destinations are in essence visual pictures, texts and sounds conveying meaning to potential and visiting tourists. A number of destinations have capitalized on the development of literary tourism using authors and their literature as the enticement for attracting visitors. These destinations range from single author to multi-author locations and will include such performatives as events and festivals, walking in the footsteps of an author or simply visiting a historic building, such as a library. In view of today’s innumerable

global tourist destinations, locations associated with literary tourism seem relatively few. Yet some have developed notoriety and a few places could be considered ‘hot spots’, engendered by popular books and subsequent films. Learning from travel was a founding aspect of modern-day tourism, emerging from the devastation of the Second World War. Tourism was then viewed as a means of developing peace and cultural understanding, but that appears to have been forgotten with the emergence of the hedonistic tourism mass markets of the 1960s and ‘70s. Yet clearly the Grand Tour and other similar cultural experiences were always connected to educational tourism, so it is of no surprise that current literary dialogues refer to certain products of tourism as learning experiences. Being at a festival can be an educational experience, drawing not only on the performances of the authors but also after the event, where the visitor enacts a form of exchange and communing with others in the audience and the authors. Furthermore, literature festivals attract a clientele dissimilar from the mass tourism market, with predispositions more focused on cultural and special interest products. This has certain advantages for the destination: although 71

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it might receive lower numbers of tourists, these will potentially be higher spending tourists. To consider poetry as a means of challenging and changing attitudes in today’s tourism market is a thought-provoking polemic offering a new platform for future research and action. Poetry demonstrates the power of words to embolden emotions and potentially change tourist actions and agencies. Performative actions through poetry can be a key to creating positive impacts on the environment by altering the moral values of a visitor. Are new digital technologies the death knell for the library? Rarely found on tourist itineraries, libraries are repositories of learning and knowledge but have become redundant vestiges of the past. Yet literary tourism has a chance to revisit and reinvigorate these resting places of books and reintegrate them into the range of tourist products. They are ‘safe, silent spaces’, usually within an urban townscape, which offer a sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of many tourist destinations as well as providing new spaces for performance and the dissemination of knowledge. Libraries are an almost forgotten domain of literary tourism. Perhaps it is now time to innovate and develop new approaches to using the library’s cultural and historical capital for tourism.

What is tourism if not a journey? Tales about pilgrimage and journeys make for stimulating reading and create in the imagination the dream of travel, perhaps following in the footsteps of previous explorers, writers or pilgrims. Recently there seems to have been an expansion in this genre of travel writing, much of it reflecting epic journeys to the Antarctic and Everest, with numerous diaries and books being used to create new tourist journeys and experiences. But travel writing and following in an explorer’s footsteps is not just a current trend; as with much of literary tourism, they have been undertaken over many centuries. The Grand Tour is a prominent example of this type of tourist trail. Retracing the footsteps of explorers and travellers is a means to reimagine and bring new cultural meaning to particular landscapes. In addition, the new technologies of texting and social media are helping to change the imagery of past tourist journeys. These are some of the narratives explored in this practical segment of the book, demonstrating that literary tourism is not just about reading and thinking but is accompanied with praxis, a necessary constituent of transforming words into a tourist product and destination. It is hoped that some of these ideas and approaches can be a springboard for creating new approaches to literary tourism.

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Reimagining Emulative Journeys: From Classical Texts to Contemporary Travel Writing in the Digital Age

Madelene Blaer* Monash University, Melbourne, Australia

Introduction The history of travel writing tells of many illustrious quests. Their textual nature, captured in books, diaries and journals, allows future generations to relive the journeys imaginatively as they read. Some readers take their captivation to another physical level and decide to recreate the experience in their own modern world, and sometimes, they too publish writings detailing their recreated travels. This kind of mobile and textual emulation is known as the following-infootsteps tradition in travel writing. The concept of emulating another’s previously accomplished or attempted journey, especially those of idols and ancestors, has long traditions. Stories in classical texts often present the themes of mission and triumph, and their authors were celebrated in society for their perceived grandeur and heroics. Pertinent examples include the conquistadors and the great sea voyagers, commonly associated with the travels of Marco Polo, Christopher Columbus and Captain James Cook. On occasion, inspired audiences have emulated these types of quests, perhaps in search of similar recognition. These earlier journeys of ‘discovery’ mapped great portions of the planet and while the world is constantly being interpreted in

new ways, contemporary travel writers operate in an environment that has now been meticulously explored by their predecessors. Mainstream use of the Internet means that 21st-century travellers can no longer bring the same type of discoveries home from abroad to mass audiences, as their Victorian forebears once did (The Guardian Books Podcast, 2010). While earlier explorers wrote about the places they encountered for their audiences for the first time, readers can now easily find information about distant lands online. The subject of emulating historical journeys, however, has remained popular in contemporary travel writing (Keirstead, 2013; Youngs, 2013) and travel writers appear to have maintained a fascination with following in the footsteps of those who mapped the terrain before them. New takes, twists and themes are emerging, which might reveal new foci, meanings and relevance for contemporary travel writers. As argued by Youngs (2013): … travel writing, like all literature, responds to new technologies. The means and speed of motion affect the way people experience their travel as well as how they write about it.

Emulation in travel literature has been explored before (e.g. Hulme, 1997; Leavenworth, 2010; Laing and Crouch, 2011; Laing and Frost,

*​madelene.​blaer@​monash.​edu © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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2012), yet there is a paucity of literature that examines how modern travel writers reimagine historical journeys in a digital age. Adding a contemporary perspective to the broader following-in-footsteps quest concept would hence follow a new direction while contributing to existing knowledge in this space. The aims and tenets of this chapter are to explore this past and present-day sociological phenomenon and to highlight the new features of the contemporary version of this literary trope. The following section examines different perspectives on and terminology adopted in reference to the following-in-footsteps tradition and revisits the journeys of the quintessential early explorer texts. Contemporary reimaginings are explored thereafter; first, in relation to modern concerns and socio-cultural perspectives, and second, regarding new multi-media and online technologies, and how each of these have affected the emulative journey writing tradition. The chapter concludes with a summary of the significant issues for contemporary travel writers and points to potential areas for future research.

Perspectives on the Followingin-Footsteps Tradition In addition to varied understandings, the great variance in guise within the emulative journey writing concept is explored in this section. A range of texts are presented as cases to compare more classical examples to newer reimaginings.

Typologies and terminology Several scholars have explored emulative journey writing in detail and a collection of terms have been engaged to discuss the literary variant. ‘Footsteps genre’ or ‘footsteps travel writing’ are both terms commonly used to denote replicating historical quests (Youngs, 2013) and are demonstrated by texts characterized by deep immersion in the personal, historical and cultural contexts of the original subject (Keirstead, 2013). Adopting a more nebulous term, Hulme (1997) referred to the theme as ‘ambulant gloss’, borrowing the expression from the travel writer Charles Nicholl,

who traced the famous steps of English explorer Sir Walter Raleigh into the Amazon in search of the fabled ancient civilization of El Dorado. He consequently saw his own voyage as ‘an ambulant gloss on that earlier journey’ (Nicholl, 1996). Hulme (1997) described the writing of this type of journey as having an asymptotical relationship to its original, reflecting a secondary nature while still containing its own story worth telling. He thought they were often written as a means of marking historical developments, with the first journey ‘usually glimpsed beneath the contemporary text, often held physically [as a book or notes] in the hand of the travel writer, sometimes quoted, sometimes not’ (Hulme, 1997). Frederick Albion Ober, a 19th- and early 20thcentury travel writer, who published In the Wake of Columbus (1893), is presented as a pertinent example of an author and text providing an ambulant gloss on a past journey while chronicling his own noteworthy story that spanned over 15 years. Throughout his travels he was constantly met with reminders of the Italian explorer, famous for completing four voyages across the Atlantic Ocean under the auspices of the Catholic monarchs of Spain. Hulme (1997) referred to emulative journey writing as hybrid texts: ‘part homage, part self-examination, part scholarly investigation, part search for relics’. These types of travel writers can hence be seen as part biographer, part auto-ethnographer and part literary tourist, as they follow the recorded journey of a travellerexplorer and usually reflect on both their own experiences and those of their historical counterpart. For example, The Creature in the Map by Nicholl (1996) tells as much about the author’s voyage, the many different meanings of the El Dorado myth and contemporary South America as it does Raleigh’s (1595 [2009]) South American journey. His text is structured so that he first considers and introduces readers to the original Guiana Voyage and then what he calls ‘The New Dorado’ in his own modern setting. British author Tim Mackintosh-Smith also wove historical detail into his own account of following in the footsteps of Ibn Battuta’s travels in Travels with a Tangerine (Mackintosh-Smith, 2001). The author’s interpretation and critical consideration of the followership and its significance plays a

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large role in both the experience and narrating of the second journey. Mackintosh-Smith (2010, p. 2), for example, was very aware of his purposeful replication, stating: I’m always highly conscious of how we travel writers follow in each others’ footsteps, or footnotes. I've spent a long time following Ibn Battutah; but then he too followed his 12thcentury predecessor Ibn Jubayr.

Picking up on their secondary nature, Leavenworth (2010) named following-in-footsteps travel writing the ‘second journey’. She wrote about the topic extensively and defined the phenomena as a contemporary journey made in the footsteps of an earlier traveller. She explained that the original travelogue essentially functions as a map that guides the route of the ‘second travellers’. Unlike a guidebook that often contains objective information, this metaphorical map is comprised of personal anecdotes and a lived experience that the secondary traveller wishes to emulate. While the enterprise is based on ideas of reiteration and cyclicality, this map can also lead them to what Leavenworth (2010) identified as ‘a sense of authenticity’, because the second journey transforms places that are already figuratively and literally mapped into new landscapes. This transformation into a new, unique and authentic experience depends on the followers’ critical reflections of their own undertaking of the journey. For instance, Ober (1893, preface) felt that while he was following Columbus, he would write ‘every description from personal observation, and using the historical events merely as a golden thread upon which to string the beads of this Columbian rosary’. In this way, his experience was very different to that of his subjects.

Earlier journeys Replicating earlier historical quests was a common theme in the 20th century, greatly assisted by the importance placed on documentation during the former Age of Discovery and Exploration. Voyagers, including merchants and mariners, were instructed to keep detailed records of their movements and encounters to direct those who may follow in their wake to fill

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in the gaps in recorded geographical knowledge (Hulme and Youngs, 2002), navigation and trading routes. Whitfield (2011, p. 42) believed that many early explorers were unfit to interpret the worlds they uncovered, as they ‘were neither great intellects nor great writers’ because they were fighting men of action who wrote out of obligation to report home. Thompson (2011, p. 41) agreed with this stance and elucidated that these ‘ventures were not driven by intellectual curiosity, but rather by a keen awareness of the opportunities’ for trade and conquest. The writings of Columbus, for example, have been referred to as a mixture of official reportage and propaganda that instilled the image of the Noble Savage, where the locals were portrayed as innocent, peaceful, generous and hospitable, yet none the less primitive and savage (Campbell, 1988). Perhaps this perspective was adopted because Columbus sought the submission of this ‘dangerous’ community that he had ‘discovered’. His descriptions were hence coloured by his interest in his own heroics, rather than a scholarly interpretation of the people he encountered. Early 20th century replication of these quests mirrored larger society and publication, whereby the work and writing of men featured predominantly (Whitfield, 2011). A notable exception is premier female astronomer Annie Cannon, who journeyed to Spain and Italy and consequentially published In the Footsteps of Columbus (Cannon, 1893), which in part celebrated the 400th anniversary of the landing of Columbus on the North American continent. Not all emulative journeys place focus on notable historical figures and another form of following-in-footsteps is for a descendant to recount the route of an adventurous family member; for example, Paul Theroux published his account of following in his Italian grandfather’s footsteps through the Americas in The Old Patagonian Express (Theroux, 1979). Another form and popular account is Thor Heyerdahl’s The Kon-Tiki Expedition (Heyerdahl, 1950), in which a team of Norwegian men journeyed by raft across the Pacific Ocean from South America to the Polynesian Islands. The expedition’s mission was to test Heyerdahl’s theory that people from South America settled Polynesia. Heyerdahl, who died in 2002 at age 87, documented his voyage in his best-selling

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book, which was then adapted into film, first in 1950 as an Oscar-winning documentary and again more recently in 2012 as a historical drama. Heyerdahl's grandson repeated the Kon-Tiki voyage nearly 60 years later in 2006, albeit with solar panels. British explorer Tim Severin also wanted to test a theory and he and his crew made maritime history by sailing across the Pacific on a bamboo raft to investigate the hypothesis that Asian mariners reached America some 2000 years ago. Severin has followed in a great range of famous footsteps and has become synonymous with the genre, having followed Marco Polo, Genghis Khan and fictional protagonist Robinson Crusoe to name a few. While this theme traditionally recreates historical travel accounts, the footsteps followed do not necessarily need to be based in reality, as demonstrated by Cocteau (1936 [2000]), who set out to circumnavigate the world following the route taken by fictional character Phileas Fogg in Jules Verne’s epic novel Around the World in Eighty Days, published in 1873. This turned out to be a popular trail, as British actor and comedian Michael Palin, also made the voyage and wrote about it in Around the World in 80 Days (Palin, 1989 [2010]) to accompany the BBC TV programme of the same name. This particular re-creation of the fictionalized journey was complicated by the fact that steam liner ships were no longer the usual means of international travel, so long sea journeys were made on container ships or freighters. Palin refused to use aeroplanes as these were also unavailable to Fogg. The temporal context can hence shape the re-creation. Contributions from women were increasingly published in the latter half of the period. For example, Bettina Selby and Caroline Alexander are two travel writers who were inspired by the women trailblazers before them. Selby wrote about her journey in Riding the Desert Trail (Selby, 1988) after her 4500 mile solo bicycle ride to the source of the Nile in the wake of English Egyptologist Amelia Edwards. One Dry Season (Alexander, 1991), authored by Caroline Alexander, retraces the steps of a journey pioneered by Mary Kingsley, author of the classic volume Travels in West Africa (Kingsley, 1897).

Motivations and metempsychosis The motivations of such travel writers in undertaking massively challenging and risky expeditions has been explored by Laing and Crouch (2009, 2011) in their study of frontier tourists who had retraced or recreated, partly or wholly, historical journeys or expeditions (some of which were recorded as texts). They explained that frontier tourism involves travelling independently, or within a small group with a guide, to the far-flung and potentially very dangerous places of this world, for example ‘trekking to the poles and across deserts, sailing or ballooning around the globe, deep-sea diving, climbing the world’s highest peaks such as Mount Everest and even travelling into space’ (Laing and Crouch, 2011). Their findings suggested that these travellers’ motivations included a desire to educate others about history, to challenge themselves, yearning for prestige or status and an aspiration to undertake unique or novel touristic experiences. Replicating historical quests by followingin-footsteps of earlier explorers hence seems to have implications for determining or finding a sense of self, as Laing and Crouch (2011) argued: … through the retracing of heroic odysseys or quests of the past, [travellers] may be looking to break free from the similitude of mass tourism and regain their sense of self … a deep personal examination of one’s identity, what one is capable of and what one can endure.

A persistent theme in the following-in-footsteps literary trope is to complete a journey left unfinished. There are many examples, such as Tom Bergin’s In the Steps of Burke and Wills (Bergin, 1981), whereby in 1977, he and his small entourage, supported by ten camels, retraced the 1860–1861 disastrous expedition that aimed to cross Australia from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria. Similarly, atop camelback, Michael Asher’s Impossible Journey (Asher, 1988) recounts when he and his wife, Marinetta, journeyed from Nouakchott to the Nile, retracing the voyage left incomplete by Geoffrey Moorhouse. Attempts to reach the North and South Poles have reappeared continually, suggesting that successful polar expeditions are held in high revere. In the Footsteps of Scott (Mear and Swan, 1987) is Roger Mear and Robert Swan’s

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version of the ill-fated attempt by Robert Falcon Scott to be the first man to reach the South Pole in 1911–1912. Gaining her inspiration from Sir Ernest Shackleton, another principal figure in early polar exploration, Caroline Hamilton set out in January 2000 with a team of six British women. They achieved recognition as the first all-female explorers to walk 700 miles to the centre of Antarctica and the South Pole, which she wrote about in her book South Pole 2000 (Hamilton, 2000). Clive Johnson, author of The Devil’s Labyrinth (Johnson, 1995) encountered the Arctic and journeyed to the North Pole, following in the footsteps of Frederick Cook and Robert Peary, who claimed to have reached the Pole on 21 April 1908 and 6 April 1909 respectively, although both claims are contested. Drawing on the work of Seaton (2002), Laing and Crouch (2011) claimed that the theme of travelling in another’s footsteps is a form of metempsychosis, where the metempsychotic tourist adopts the guise of a particular person or people and undertakes their odyssey. Reijnders (2009) described this process in touristic terms as ‘a spiritual journey, whose goal is to get into the skin of another, charismatic person, and ultimately become one with their soul’. By becoming one with the lost explorer, the second traveller might even be able to retrace their unrecorded steps. This aligns with Hulme’s (1997) observation that the attempt to find – or find some sign of – a traveller who has disappeared is a classic form of the footsteps genre. This is seen in a contemporary text authored by David Grann. His book The Lost City of Z (Grann, 2009), adapted into a film in 2017, investigated the tale of Percy Fawcett, a British explorer who disappeared along with his son in 1925 on an expedition to unearth an ancient lost city. Grann retraced their steps into the Amazon and added another perspective to the mystery by uncovering new evidence about how Fawcett died and that the fabled civilization ‘was in the very region where Fawcett believed it would be … he was so close’. In his text, chapters interchange and swap between his own modern account of retracing the journey and the recreation of Percy Fawcett’s life and reality. By imaginatively travelling back in time and space, Grann tries to excavate Fawcett’s world. His text is full of sources, including archival research as

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well as unpublished diaries and logbooks owned by Fawcett’s ancestors. In this way, Grann confronts the past while reconstructing his own journey in the present time. Scholars’ views on travel writing that follows-in-the-footsteps of another range from asymptote relationships, whereby the past voyage lives again underneath the new story, to metempsychotic transmigrations, where the two stories blur time and space to become one. In addition to a range of forms, there also appears to be a range of author motivations, including an interest in history, testing theories, completing a journey left unfinished, challenging and learning about one’s self, prestige and status. The prominent themes in contemporary footsteps travel writing are explored and compared in the next section.

Contemporary Reimaginings Global expansion, digitalization and social diversification has resulted in imaginative trends in travel writing and its following-in-footsteps (sub)genre that range greatly in form, tone and style. A selection of contemporary emulative journey texts is presented in the following subsections as comparative cases to the earlier more classical examples.

Contemporary concerns and socio-cultural perspectives Twenty-first century travel writing has developed a new sense of humility encouraged by an interest in nomadic life and a growing dissatisfaction with Western civilizations (Hulme and Youngs, 2002). Duncan and Gregory (1999) argued that diversification in travel writing increased due to the determination of modern travel writers to find acceptance of other cultures and natures. Hulme and Youngs (2002) supported this idea and added that travel writers today have a multi-focal perspective that reflects the demise of concepts that separate us from them, where dialogues on race, ethnicity and gender now attempt to bind rather than divide. For example, British-born American author of Indian descent, Pico Iyer, who now lives with his Japanese wife in Nara,

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Japan, has published various books on crossing cultures. In one of his more recent publications, he followed Graham Greene’s trail from his first novel to his later classics and unpacked his commonalities with Greene. While ethnocentrism, stereotyping and even xenophobia still exist in some contemporary travel writing, this is a clear juxtaposition to many earlier journeys and writings that were seen as propagating and misleading in that they constructed imaginary images of native people (Campbell, 1988). Australian adventurer Tim Cope is a contemporary travel writer who exemplifies new socio-cultural and inter-cultural perspectives. His book On the Trail of Genghis Khan (Cope, 2014) was partly and paradoxically inspired by history’s greatest conqueror, although perhaps more importantly and primarily by a desire to understand the nomadic way of life on the Eurasian steppe. Over three and a half years, Cope embarked on a remarkable 6000 mile (10,000-kilometre) journey on horseback from Mongolia, through Kazakhstan, Russia and the Ukraine, to Hungary. His text is punctuated with captioned photographs of the people and cultural practices he encountered on his travels, such as churning fermented mare’s milk and isolated hut-like graves, which he was advised to sleep in so that the spirits of the old men of the steppe would protect him. Written primarily for a Western audience in English, the book introduces a foreign world of wild wolves and horse thieves, immersing the reader in nomadic culture. Cope tells of being taken in by the local people, who teach him the traditional ways and divulge the impact of Stalin and recent socio-political history. In this way, Cope’s narration acts as a powerful persuasive mediator between cultures. Some contemporary travel writers that follow-in-footsteps seem to be adopting a social commentary role, whereby they problematize, or critically comment on the development of a destination, experience or socio-political/cultural tourism agenda. For example, in his text Arctic Crossing (Waterman, 2001), photographer and writer Jonathan Waterman perceived an Inuit society disrupted beyond repair, where traditions had been forgotten or abandoned. After following in the footsteps of Arctic explorers and anthropologists before him by trekking

2200 miles through the Northwest Passage and across the Arctic, this reality was a sobering realization to end his journey. Exposing a differing perspective, Treglown (2006) observed that travel writers tend to avoid confronting the potentially dark past of the places they visit. These polarized views can be explained by variance in authors’ interpretation and critical consideration of the followership and its meaning to the author. Another growing concern is a mounting discontentment with the treatment of the natural environment. In 2013, British-born Tim Jarvis led a team that recreated Sir Ernest Shackleton’s 1916 trans-Antarctic voyage, rowing the same route in a replica 7-metre lifeboat, navigating with a sextant, wearing the same clothes and even eating the same food (animal fat). Jarvis hoped to use the Shackleton trip to raise awareness of climate change (Nelsson, 2013) and published his account in Shackleton’s Epic (Jarvis, 2013). As a stark contrast to the contemporary travel writers who emphasize a critical edge, raising questions about the politics of representation and spaces of transculturation, a lighthearted, tongue-in-cheek, humorous style is also highly present. For example, a comical narrative is found in Brian Thacker’s travel book Tell Them to Get Lost (Thacker, 2011), where Thacker followed in the footsteps of Lonely Planet cofounders, Tony and Maureen Wheeler. He retraced their travels through Portuguese Timor, Indonesia, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Laos and Burma using the original South East Asia on a Shoestring (Wheeler and Wheeler, 1975) as his guide, resulting in some very funny experiences and mishaps. Pamela Stephenson’s Treasure Islands (Stephenson, 2005) is another example; as a mother of four (she counts three teenage girls and her husband Billy Connolly), she sets sail for the South Seas and follows in the footsteps of Fanny Stevenson, who she sees as the intrepid ‘maverick wife’ of Robert Louis Stevenson.

New media and online connectivity Alongside a sense of discontent for the treatment of foreign cultures and the natural environment, another modern interest revolves

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around the rapid rise of digital media and connectivity online. Modern technologies allow readers to view and ‘discover’ the world at the click of a button; online users can virtually explore shipwrecks, danger zones and even the deepest parts of Earth in the Mariana Trench through Google Maps and Google Earth. The fact that the world has been so meticulously explored does not seem to deter travel writers, bloggers or explorers, who continue to emulate past journeys and seek frontier spaces (Laing and Crouch, 2011). These individuals narrate their emulation in very different ways due to new technologies and the digital media readily available to them. Contemporary travel writers can now publish their work online in a variety of ways. For instance, professional writing can be published on paying websites, such as Slate, The Smart Set, Frommer's and Perceptive Travel. All of these sites have their own style guide and authorship is highly competitive, with new writers contending with celebrated names in travel writing (George, 2013). Travel writers can also create their own professional or amateur blogs and manage their social media accounts, such as Instagram and Twitter, which offer a direct way to share (both published and unpublished) work. Blogs, short for weblogs, have experienced great societal adoption and have become prolific. Jeff Greenwald wrote the first travel blog (before the term was coined) in 1994, when circumnavigating the globe for his book The Size of the World (Greenwald, 1994). At the time he called them ‘dispatches’, which he posted to the Global Network Navigator. The first was posted on 6 January 1994 from Mexico and 19 more followed (Green Global Travel, 2014). Circumnavigation of the globe shows how journeys have been recreated in many different ways as transportation and mobility are improved and updated with technology. Since Ferdinand Magellan first attempted the feat by sea, it has been accomplished by air, and more recently, by human-power, which links back to caring for the natural environment. Colin Angus and his then wife-to-be, Julie Wafaei, travelled 43,000 kilometres around the world using exclusively human-power, walking, skiing and biking across land and rowing and canoeing across water. The filmed journey was

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completed in July 2004 and he then wrote about it in Beyond the Horizon (Angus, 2007). Jason Lewis’ 13-year journey entitled Expedition 360 also included a human-powered circumnavigation of the globe, which he completed on 6 October 2007. It was later written as a trilogy of books, titled The Expedition. Much of the journey was also filmed, resulting in a documentary film of the same name. All materials relating to the journey (e.g. books, film trailer, talks, video clips and photographs) are collected on a website and reflect the multi-media nature of the digital age. The removal of modern technology that would make the journey easier might suggest that these explorers welcome the challenge, which supports Laing and Crouch’s (2011) suggestion that these types of travellers are motivated by undertaking exceptional physical and emotional tests and perhaps yearn for prominence within their elite community. While technology was disengaged in terms of transportation, these expeditions differ considerably to their earlier counterparts in relation to the recording of the journey. All of the modern adventurers used modern communication channels to record and promote their quests, which highlights connectivity throughout the journey that was not present in the first sea voyages. There are now numerous examples of emulative journey texts being converted to film, which is amplifying the following-in-footsteps concept to wider markets. With the movie release of On the Road in 2012, based on Kerouac’s 1957 novel of the same name, Hostel Bookers sensed a spiked market interest in recreating the famous journey and published a blog post titled On the Road: How to Recreate Jack Kerouac’s Classic Road Trip (Gibbs, 2013). They provide ‘a rundown of where you need to go and what you need to do to step into Kerouac’s shoes’ and suggest various sites, from venues that Kerouac actually visited, such as The Green Mill Cocktail Lounge jazz club on Broadway in Chicago that still operates today, to places that have developed as a consequence of the book’s popularity, such as a little one-way street called Jack Kerouac Alley. Kerouac and his story represent the independent backpacker traveller and having realized the connection, the hostel company is grasping the opportunity to communicate their link through their blog and encouraging their readers to emulate at least part of the journey. This might suggest that the

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emulative journey writing genre could spread to a more mainstream market alongside digitalization, increasing film adaptations and the popularity of the blogosphere. While recreated journeys have been well commercialized (for example, Severin’s successful texts and television documentaries), expansion to the mainstream, non-elite market seems to be a relatively new occurrence. Another interesting case of followership and online connectivity in the digital age is found in Lauren Bullen’s travel blog. Known as @gypsea_lust on Instagram, Bullen is an Australian travel blogger with more than 2 million subscribers. She travels around the world with her partner Jack Morris (who posts as @ doyoutravel) and documents her adventures (Ellen, 2016). She gained international media attention in 2016 when she expressed her concern that another woman had been copying her social media posts. The strangest part of the ordeal was that her follower was replicating the exact same images that Bullen posted online, sometimes even copying the caption. It was suggested that her ‘copy-cat’ follower was able to recreate the images by finding the locations using the geo-tagged sites on the original social media posts. While some critics suspected a hoax, the contended case demonstrates a curious and new take on the following-in-footsteps genre in the digital age made possible by online connectivity. Two thematic zeniths have developed in recent decades: first, a discontentment with the treatment of foreign cultures and the natural environment, and second, the rise of new and digital media and online connectivity. While more classical texts reflect an interest in power and glory, many modern texts promote protection of nature and an acceptance of other cultures. The second major theme in the digital age has seen new media and online platforms amplify an author’s work, resulting in an expansion of the follower or second traveller market beyond frontier and intrepid explorers.

Conclusion This chapter has explored a collection of new themes and narratives produced by modern

travel writers following-in-footsteps. A variety of scholarly perspectives inform our understanding of emulative journey texts, which are commonly seen as a hybrid literary genre (Hulme, 1997), containing investigative journalism, biographical homage and self-reflective memoir, albeit referred to as the footsteps genre (Youngs, 2013). Through the act of journeying in the footsteps of an admired precursor and then adding their own contemporary twist in their own travel texts, travel writers and bloggers provide their own reimagining of a past journey that can then feed into modern mythologies and/ or create new ones (Laing and Crouch, 2011). In writing up their reimagined version, these travel writers may inspire a new generation to again recreate these voyages, much like Heyerdahl’s grandson and Mackintosh-Smith’s realization that Ibn Battutah followed his own forebearers before him. Travel writers continue to explore and recreate past journeys, despite the claim that the world has been thoroughly explored by their predecessors. In doing so, they have developed new meanings and relevance for their work. The significance of intercultural understanding, the representation of foreign cultures and the treatment of the natural environment have become topical areas for concern in the 21st century and many contemporary travel writers have directed their focus to these subjects. Travel writing’s history holds a predominantly male and Westernized lens, although this gap is beginning to close with more culturally diverse travel writing now being published. This exploration was limited to texts written in or translated into English and hence narratives in other languages were not read or included; the diversity of authorship was therefore not thoroughly explored and this would be an avenue for further research. In the digital age of information, contemporary travel writers’ narratives are also changing alongside the rise of the blogosphere and social media. Emulating journeys has extended beyond the elite explorer-travellers to a more mainstream market. With the help of the bloggers working for tour operators and travel companies, fabled journeys like that of Jack Kerouac are being commercialized and packaged for tourists who may wish to experience part of a past journey. For travel writers who maintain a fascination with emulating historical journeys, new

Reimagining Emulative Journeys

ways of presenting their narrative have emerged through visual elements, both still photography and the moving image, which are enhancing the re-creation beyond the textual medium. Despite the great technological advances in online communication, in terms of travel writers, there is very little research on their use of social media. An exploration of how the travel text itself has changed in accordance with digital and social media would hence be useful. It would be interesting to know if these potential

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future reimaginings, influenced by changing media trends and new technologies, become so far removed from the original journey that their relationship becomes unrecognizable, which perhaps reflects Eliot et al.’s (1942) musing: ‘We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring, will be to arrive where we started, and know the place for the first time’, which remains relevant in the digital age with a world that ostensibly has been thoroughly explored.

References Alexander, C. (1991) One Dry Season: In the Footsteps of Mary Kingsley. Vintage Books, New York. Angus, C. (2007) Beyond the Horizon: The First Human-Powered Expedition to Circle the Globe. Menasha Ridge Press, Birmingham, UK. Asher, M. (1988) Impossible Journey: Two Against the Sahara. Viking, London. Bergin, T. (1981) In the Steps of Burke and Wills. ABC Books, Sydney, Australia. Campbell, M. (1988) The Witness and the Other World: Exotic European Travel Writing, 400–1600. Cornwell University Press, London. Cannon, A. (1893) In the Footsteps of Columbus. Barta and Co. Printers, Boston, USA. Cocteau, J. (1936 [2000]) Round the World Again in 80 Days. Tauris Parke Paperbacks, London. Cope, T. (2014) On the Trail of Genghis Khan: An Epic Journey Through the Land of the Nomads. Bloomsbury, London. Duncan, J. and Gregory, D. (1999) Writes of Passage: Reading Travel Writing. Routledge, London, UK. Eliot, T.S., Hodgson, A. and Mairet, P. (1942) Little Gidding. Faber and Faber, London, UK. Ellen, S. (2016) A blogger just noticed a woman’s been following in her footsteps and taking the exact same pictures. Metro. Available at: http://​metro.​co.​uk/​2016/​11/​12/​a-​blogger-​just-​noticed-​a-​womans-​been-​following-​in-​her-​footsteps-​and-​taking-​the-​exact-​same-​pictures-​6254093/#​ixzz4ZZnqQx6Q (accessed 2 December 2017). George, D. (2013) Lonely Planet’s Guide to Travel Writing, 3rd edn. Lonely Planet Publications, Melbourne, Australia. Gibbs, J. (2013) On the Road: How to Recreate Jack Kerouac’s Classic Road Trip. Hostel Bookers. Available at: http://www.​hostelbookers.​com/​blog/​destinations/​north-​america/​jack-​kerouac-​road-​ trip/ (accessed 3 December 2017). Grann, D. (2009) The Lost City of Z: A Legendary British Explorer’s Deadly Quest to Uncover the Secrets of the Amazon. Simon and Schuster, London. Green Global Travel (2014) Interview: Jeff Greenwald, world’s 1st travel blogger and founder of Ethical Traveler. Available at: https://​greenglobaltravel.​com/​jeff-​greenwald-​ethical-​traveler/ (accessed 3 December 2017). Greenwald, J. (1994) The Size of the World. Ballantine Books, New York. Hamilton, C. (2000) South Pole 2000: Seven Women in Search of an Adventure. HarperCollins, Sydney, Australia. Heyerdahl, T. (1950) The Kon-Tiki Expedition. Rand McNally, California, USA. Hulme, P. (1997) In the wake of Columbus: Frederick Ober’s ambulant gloss. Literature & History 6(2), 18–36. DOI: 10.1177/030619739700600203. Hulme, P. and Youngs, T. (2002) The Cambridge Companion to Travel Writing. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, UK. Jarvis, T. (2013) Shackleton’s Epic: Recreating the World’s Greatest Journey of Survival. HarperCollins, London, UK. Johnson, C. (1995) The Devil’s Labyrinth: Encounters with the Arctic. Shrewsbury, London, UK.

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Keirstead, C.M. (2013) Convoluted paths: Mapping genre in contemporary footsteps travel writing. Genre 46(3), 285–315. DOI: 10.1215/00166928-2345524. Kerouac, J. (1957) On the Road. Viking Publishers, New York. Kingsley, M. (1897) Travels in West Africa: Congo Francais, Corisco and Cameroons. Macmillan, London. Laing, J. and Crouch, G. (2009) Myth, adventure and fantasy at the frontier: Metaphors and imagery behind an extraordinary travel experience. International Journal of Tourism Research 11(2), 127–141. DOI: 10.1002/jtr.716. Laing, J. and Crouch, G. (2011) Frontier tourism: Retracing mythic journeys. Annals of Tourism Research 38(4), 127–141. Laing, J. and Frost, W. (2012) Books and Travel: Inspiration, Quests and Transformation. Channel View Publications, Bristol, UK. Leavenworth, M.L. (2010) The Second Journey: Travelling in Literary Footsteps, 2nd edn. Umeå University, Umeå, Sweden. Mackintosh-Smith, T. (2001) Travels with a Tambourine. Hodder & Stoughton, London. Mackintosh-Smith, T. (2010) In the footsteps of Ibn Battutah. Available at: http://www.​thenational.​ae/​ lifestyle/​travel/​in-​the-​footsteps-​of-​ibn-​battutah#​page2 (accessed 23 December 2017). Mear, R. and Swan, R. (1987) In the Footsteps of Scott. Grafton Books, London. Nelsson, R. (2013) Shackleton’s journey: What adventures are left to emulate? The Guardian. Available at: https://www.​theguardian.​com/​commentisfree/​2013/​jan/​04/​shackleton-​journey-​adventures-​left (accessed 23 December 2017). Nicholl, C. (1996) The Creature in the Map: Sir Walter Ralegh’s Quest for El Dorado. University of Chicago Press, Chicago, USA. Ober, F.A. (1893) In the Wake of Columbus: Adventures of the Special Commissioner Sent by the World’s Columbian Exposition to the West Indies. Lothrop Company, Boston, USA. Palin, M. (1989 [2010]) Around the World in 80 Days. The Orion Publishing Group, London. Raleigh, W. (1595 [2009]) The Discovery of Guiana. The Floating Press, New York. Reijnders, S. (2009) Watching the detectives: inside the guilty landscapes of Inspector Morse, Baantjer and Wallander. European Journal of Communication 24(2), 165–181. Seaton, A.V. (2002) Tourism as metempsychosis and metensomatosis: the personae of eternal reoccurrence. In: Dann,G. (ed.) The Tourist as a Metaphor of the Social World. CAB International, Wallingford, UK, pp. 135–168. Selby, B. (1988) Riding the Desert Trail: By Bicycle to the Source of the Nile. Sphere Books, London, UK. Stephenson, P. (2005) Treasure Islands. Headline Book Publishing, London. Thacker, B. (2011) Tell Them to Get Lost. Random House, Sydney, Australia. The Guardian Books Podcast (2010) [Radio Broadcast]. Travel Writing’s New Frontiers, Interview with Ian Thomson. Available at: http://www.​theguardian.​com/​books/​audio/​2010/​jul/​09/​travel-​writing-​prize (accessed 5 June 2014). Theroux, P. (1979) The Old Patagonian Express: By Train Through the Americas. Houghton Mifflin Company, New York. Thompson, C. (2011) Travel Writing: The New Critical Idiom. Routledge, New York. Treglown, J. (2006) The road more travelled literature. Financial Times, London. Available at: https://www.​ ft.​com/​content/​3a514e86-​ebb4-​11da-​b3e2-​0000779e2340 (accessed 3 December 2017). Waterman, J. (2001) Arctic Crossing: One Man's 2,000-Mile Odyssey Among the Inuit. Knopf, New York. Wheeler, B. and Wheeler, M. (1975) South East Asia on a Shoe String. Lonely Planet, Melbourne, Australia. Whitfield, P. (2011) Travel: A Literary History. Bodleian Library, Oxford, UK. Youngs, T. (2013) The Cambridge Introduction to Travel Writing. Cambridge University Press, New York.

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Response and Responsibility: Poets as Guides for Tourists

Anniken Greve* UiT, The Arctic University of Norway, Tromsø, Norway

Responsible Tourism and the Question of Language One of the most pressing questions in tourism research today springs from the ecological crisis. How can tourism be conceptualized as an environmentally responsible activity? It seems easy enough to account for the potential downsides of tourism on both the local and the global environment. But one might also start on a more optimistic note and ask: is there a positive role for tourism to play in developing environmental awareness? I will approach this question from the point of view of language. What uses of language might help promote environmentally responsible tourism? Obviously, tourism needs a variety of uses of language. In so far as tourists come in hordes that queue up in front of famous buildings, fill the beaches, walk on medieval walls and climb the mountains, we need rules, regulations and warnings, and, perhaps more effective in the long run, the language of good signposting, channelling the hordes towards and on to the paths that can handle such numbers. Seen from the point of view of tourism’s effect on the environment, this use of language is primarily damage-preventive; it seeks to protect the environment from the potential detrimental effect of tourism by directing the tourists’ steps

away from vulnerable spots and areas. However, one may also ask: is there a role for language in positively enhancing the tourists’ environmental awareness? In order to get a foothold for this suggestion, we need to consider how we think about tourists. Even though they often come in flocks, we should resist the temptation to view tourists as flock animals. We should recognize that the tourist is a fully fledged human being, potentially able to connect with and respond to the surrounding world in a rich way. Her being a tourist is a temporary state that unfolds within a broader and multi-layered life, a life within which seeing new places or returning to old ones may play an important role, also because her temporary life as a tourist liberates her from many of her daily commitments. Indeed, no longer having her hands fully occupied by such commitments, she may in fact be capable of appreciating the surrounding world in a richer way than her everyday life inspires. In other words, reflecting on what tourism is and can be, we need to work with a conception of human beings that captures how we are when we are most appreciative, a conception that captures the sense of life and the sensitivity to life that call for and make room for subtler uses of language. The need for such subtler uses of language has long been the concern of major moral philosophers. Cora Diamond (1999),

*​anniken.​greve@​uit.​no © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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Martha Nussbaum (1985) and Iris Murdoch (1991), among others, have in various ways and from diverging philosophical starting points given shape to the idea that at the heart of moral life and progress is our capacity to live attentively. Moral reflection is not just a matter of deciding what to do on specific occasions. It crucially involves one’s sense of life, one’s freshness of perception. Moral awareness takes shape by way of ‘a just and loving gaze directed upon an individual reality’, as Murdoch puts it (Murdoch, 1991, p. 64). And this attentive loving gaze is not a way of deflecting the real, to escape into a hazy dream-world of infatuation, if anyone thought so. Quite the contrary, it gives us access to ‘reality as that which is revealed to the patient eye of love’ (Murdoch, 1991, p. 39). Attention is rewarded with an enhanced sense of reality. This conception of moral life connects moral responsibility with the capacity to respond to and connect with the surrounding world and calls for uses of language that express such responsiveness. It should come as no surprise that the moral philosophers mentioned above turn to literary uses of language. In literature one can see such expressions manifest in all genres, e.g. in narratives that are ‘finely aware and richly responsible’ (Nussbaum, 1985). In this chapter, however, I will focus on the potential positive role of poetry. This approach makes the question of language even more pertinent. Poetry, and especially modern poetry, is regarded as one of the most inaccessible genres of literature, not least due to its subtle uses of language. One may ask, however, if this is a hindrance or a help. Is it conceivable that poems, in virtue of the subtleties in their use of language, may guide the tourist’s steps in ways that enhance her understanding of the ground she is treading on, and perhaps also enhance her understanding of the need to protect and preserve this ground? Marking the contrast between the poetic and the prosaic, the Scottish poet and philosopher Thomas A. Clark puts it thus: The poetic challenges the prosaic: if the world is prose, then poetry is the world, or a part of the world, charged and energized. Into the continuum of facts, poetry introduces a value of a quality; something we do not only register but feel. (...) To write a poem is not just to make an object which will take its place among other objects but to introduce a structure which will reorder and revalue the existing physical

and psychic facts. (...) We [i.e. the readers] recognize the value that the poem upholds. We respond to, are made adequate to, the most subtle resonances, for instance, to a small, blue distance, a clarity on Baffin Island, or the first light in San José Canyon. This is what it means to understand poetry and art. Understanding is a kind of agreement, a realigning of one’s sympathies, an enlargement of one’s abilities. It is not an end but a beginning, a competence in a landscape which is no longer prosaic. (Clark, 1992)

In this chapter I will explore the idea that poetry may ‘realign one’s sympathies and enlarge one’s abilities’ with the help of philosophers from the phenomenological tradition who appreciate human beings’ fundamental embeddedness in the surrounding world and by taking a closer look at poets who allow their own connections with place and landscape to enter into their poetry, so as to stimulate both responsiveness and responsibility. After the presentation of three such poets, the chapter suggests an educational programme for schoolchildren and pupils in developing poetry-based tourist guides, with a view to mobilizing environmental responsibility among both locals and visitors.

Intimacy, Space, Place Let me start my exploration of these issues by positing a point of contact between phenomenology and poetry. Poetry speaks to and intervenes in our capacity to see and respond to the surrounding world and brings out our connectedness with the surrounding world. According to philosophers such as Maurice Merleau-Ponty and Gaston Bachelard, this connectedness is more primary than our daily habit-governed commerce with the world, and it is the source of an intimacy with our surroundings that sustains our being. In his great work on the phenomenology of perception, Merleau-Ponty gives us an image of this intimacy: ‘Our own body is in the world as the heart is in the organism: it keeps the visible spectacle constantly alive, it breathes life into it and sustains it inwardly, and with it forms a system’ (Merleau-Ponty, 1989, p. 203). This near and intimate relation between body and world defies objective measuring rods. We experience ourselves as being very near the

Response and Responsibility: Poets as Guides for Tourists

features that, seen from a different perspective, are far away from us. We participate in them. The blue sky, for instance: As I contemplate the blue of the sky I am not set over against it as an acosmic subject; I do not possess it in thought, or spread out towards it some idea of blue such as might reveal the secret of it, I abandon myself to it and plunge myself into this mystery, it ‘thinks itself within me’, I am the sky itself as it is drawn together and unified, and as it begins to exist for itself, my consciousness is saturated by this limitless blue. (Merleau-Ponty, 1989, p. 214)

This relation to the surrounding world, in which the sky ‘thinks itself within me’, begins in perception. It is as active, perceiving subjects we establish this primary intimate relation to the surrounding world. And according to MerleauPonty, our knowledge of the world, whether it is practical or theoretical, is itself embedded in this intimate relation to the world. ‘All knowledge takes its place within the horizons opened up by perception’ (Merleau-Ponty, 1989, p. 207). The intimacy in our relation to the world is explored further by Gaston Bachelard. In his seminal work The Poetics of Space, he reflects on the beginning of our sense of being as it develops in our earliest habitat: ‘Being is already a value. Life begins well, it begins enclosed, protected, all warm in the bosom of the house’ (Bachelard, 1992, p. 7). Marking his distance from Martin Heidegger’s notion of Geworfenheit (the thought that we fundamentally are thrown into the world), he claims that ‘Life begins well’ (Bachelard, 1992, p. 7). ‘Within the being, in the being from within, an enveloping warmth welcomes being’ (Bachelard, 1992, p. 7). It is from this fundamental experience of at-home-ness that Bachelard’s poetics of space develops. Interestingly, the fundamental dynamics in our experience of the surrounding world, according to Bachelard, is not that between home and away, along the horizontal axis, so much as along the vertical axis within our home: the vertical span between cellar and attic, the axis that stretches from our small house into the vast space. The (relatively) small building we inhabit both protects us from and integrates us in this vast space. The huge, seemingly never-ending space enters into the experience of the small place we call home. We experience the dynamic rivalry between house and universe. In this experience ‘we

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are far removed from any reference to simple geometrical forms. A house that has been experienced is not an inert box. Inhabited space transcends geometrical space’ (Bachelard, 1992, p. 47). To flesh out how this huge, seemingly never-ending space enters into this small place, and forms part of the experience of home, we might look far away, both in space and time, to a short poem by the Chinese 8th-century poet Li Po. Thoughts of a Quiet Night Before the bed, bright moon light. I took it for frost on the ground. I raised my head to think of the moon, then bowed my head to dream of home. (Po, 2012, p. 103)

This poem is attentive to a situation of awakening and the perceptive-reflective micro-drama it gives rise to. The poetic ‘I’ wakes up at a time of the night when darkness might be expected. He is struck by a bright gleam of light by the foot of the bed. He follows the light to the moon that is the immediate source of this light. Thus, he experiences the vast space into which he is embedded; the cosmic whole that he is part of. He is away from home, in a state of longing, and at the same time experiencing what being at home is and means; re-entering the cosmic dimension of at-home-being. Thus the poem reminds us of the connection between the tiny little place where I am now – this specific here – and the larger cosmic whole. The little place is a whole in its own right, but also integrated in a larger whole. This communication or rapport participates in my being; it establishes the anthropo-cosmic tissue of human life, as Bachelard calls it (Bachelard, 1992, p. 22). It is by virtue of such a ‘cosmo-logic’ that we sense the world as a whole that we are embedded in. And it is within the experience of this fundamental anthropocosmic tissue that the potentials of experiencing our surroundings should be understood, whether we are at home or away, in our private garden or in foreign landscapes as tourists. This experience brings out our fundamental connectedness, and our potential for reconnecting with this connectedness. Sensing and reconnecting with this connectedness does not mark a final point or end in our exploration of the environment, but a

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beginning, or a beginning that is also a return to the beginning; a reopening of our original openness. Perhaps this possibility is more available to us in foreign places than at home, and more so if we are tourists in this foreign place than if we visit the place for work or with a mission. As tourists, ambling and idling, we might open ourselves to the environment and ourselves (our sheer being) in virtue of the very lack of purposes and missions. As tourists, we are normally not here to accomplish anything, beyond simply being here, in the richest possible way. In what sense might poetry guide us in our attempt to experience the place we visit as tourists in the richest possible way? Obviously, poetry comes in many forms and with a variety of concerns, and many of these forms and concerns may be of no help to the tourist visiting a particular place. However, much of what we call poetry is strongly connected with places. As Geoffrey Grigson puts it: Places enter poems, sometimes incidentally, sometimes penetrating the poems as if place were their whole substance. It is not surprising. After all in places we grow up. Place is our external condition; place is garden, field, landscape, woods, fells, springs, rivers, estuaries, beaches, valleys, villages, towns, streets. Place is sunshine, rain, snow, ice. It is west, east, north and south. It is where the seasons change. Our feelings flow into places, and an accumulation of feeling, historical, cultural and personal, flows back from places into consciousness. (Grigson, 1983, p. 31)

In the exchange between place and poetry, the poet acknowledges and celebrates his or her embeddedness. This poetry, in the words of the English literary historian Peter Conrad, ‘repays its depth to geography by spiritualizing the sites which are its source’ (cited in Bate, 1991, p. 87). It does so in a way that illuminates both the breadth and the richness of the surrounding world and our involvement in it. Poems of place may bring together – or articulate the tension between – the natural and the cultural, the contemporary and the historical, the practical and the religious, the temporary and transient and more permanent features of place; place as it occurs to individuals and to collectives, the long historical lines and the cyclic variations, its centres and peripheries. Places are also the locus of conflicts; between contrasting ways of life and differences in

values, between different ethnic communities, between people whose families have lived here for generations and newcomers, between longlived and short-lived interests. No feature or dimension of the surrounding world is in principle irrelevant and inaccessible to poems of place, and no feature of place and environment can be expected to occur in a form that is untouched or unmarked by the attentive eye that sees and engages in it. This eye will at its best be geared both towards facts and imaginative exploration of facts; finding a sense of home in a geographical environment that is stretched between the given and the made, and between the naturally and culturally given. At his or her best, the poet will recognize that also, and perhaps especially, in its givenness, the surrounding world is a resource of human regeneration and growth.

Looking North: Heaney, Mackay Brown, Valkeapää Places enter into poems, Grigson says, and these places may in principle be located anywhere: east and west, south or north. In the following I will look north to find the poems that may enrich our appreciation of our surroundings and enhance our environmental awareness. Surely, north is a relative term; there is no absolute north that is a human habitat, and every place north is north of some place further south. Wordsworth, who is perhaps the ultimate poet of place in the English literary canon, is in this relative sense a poet of the north (of England). In my search for poets from the north I will look to Ireland, Scotland and to the sub-Arctic north: to Seamus Heaney from Northern Ireland, struggling with its double inheritance, the Irish and the English; to George Mackay Brown, from Orkney, part of Scotland, but geographically located north of Scotland’s mainland and historically and culturally closely connected with the Nordic countries, and to Nils-Aslak Valkeapää from Sápmi, this vast country of the northern European hemisphere that cuts across national boundaries from Norway to Russia. All three poets combine land and language, poetry and place in ways specific to their environment, both its natural resources and human history, thus

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inviting us to appreciate cultural forms of life predicated on these conditions.

Seamus Heaney Seamus Heaney, the most recent Nobel Laureate (1995) among several Irish winners of this most prestigious award in the literary world, was born in Derry, Northern Ireland, in 1939. He continues the tradition from Wordsworth of grounding the poetry in one’s local landscape by exchanging his father’s spade with a pen: ‘I’ll dig with it’, the poet declares in Digging, the opening poem of his debut (Heaney, 1998, p. 4). And the work of his pen draws sustenance from his father’s work with the spade, evoking in language the very soundscape arising from this earthy landscape: e.g. ‘the squelch and slap/ Of soggy peat’ (Heaney, 1998, p. 4). Heaney’s poetry is marked by a coming together of a sense of place and a sense of language, expressed sometimes in childhood recollections of how he learned to write, as in the poem Alphabets (Heaney, 1998, p. 292), sometimes in reflections on how memory and words seem to fuse in and thus shape the poet’s consciousness, as in Fosterling:

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and Catholics, is nevertheless not defined by it. Instead it is defined by the clash between social speech and literature: ‘[T]he line [...] divides the actual conditions of our daily lives from the imaginative representation of those conditions in literature, and divides also the world of social speech from the world of poetic language’ (Heaney, 1995a, p. xvi). There are many examples of the imaginative representation of the conditions of daily life in Heaney’s poetry, and some of them bring out the author’s engagement and conversation with the myths and legends that are at home in this landscape. One striking example of this engagement in legends we find in St Kevin and the Blackbird. The poem tells about the monk St Kevin, in whose hands a blackbird lays down to nest: And then there was St Kevin and the blackbird The saint is kneeling, arms stretched out, inside His cell, but his cell is narrow, so One turned-up palm is out the window, stiff As a crossbeam, when a blackbird lands And lays in it and settles down to nest. Kevin feels the warm eggs, the small breast, the tucked

I can’t remember not ever having known

Neat head and claws and, finding himself linked

The immanent hydraulics of a land

Into the network of eternal life,

Of glar and glit and floods at dailigone. My silting hope. My lowlands of the mind.

Is moved to pity: now he must hold his hand Like a branch out in the sun and rain for weeks

Heaviness of being. And poetry

Until the young are hatched and fledged and flown.

Sluggish in the doldrums of what happens. Me waiting until I was nearly fifty To credit marvels. Like the tree clock of tin cans The tinkers made. So long for air to brighten, Time to be dazzled and the heart to lighten. (Heaney, 1998, p. 357)

Heaney’s poetry is also permeated by an acute awareness of the pain inherent in living in a landscape that two different cultures – the Catholic Irish and the Protestant English – make claim to, name and define. He places the socially aware poet at what he calls ‘the frontier of writing’. This frontier, although it is marked by the political conflict between Protestants

(Heaney, 1998, p. 410)

This is a legend that reflects the close connection between land and religion in Celtic Ireland, and thus also land and story-telling. Through this act of faith the monk becomes what the blackbird takes him to be: an integral part of the landscape, thus allowing the bird to bring the small ones forward to the point when they can leave the nest. This act of faith is also an act of love and devotion to life in this landscape, setting a standard we all fall short of. In Heaney’s own words, it stands ‘at the intersection of natural process and the glimpsed ideal, at one and the same time a signpost and a reminder. Manifesting that order of poetry where

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we can at last grow up to that which we stored up as we grew’ (Heaney, 1995b, pp. 20-21).

George Mackay Brown George Mackay Brown, a friend of Heaney, was born in Stromness, Orkney, in 1921, where he lived most of his life until his death in 1996. Though he wrote a number of novels and shortstories, in addition to essays and articles, he was above all a poet, and as such he announces his poetic aspirations in the first poem of his first published collection of poetry: Prologue For the islands I sing    and for a few friends; not to foster means    or be midwife to ends.

native Orkney archipelago in redemptive images; images from its history and stories of Picts and Vikings, its green land and sea, and its people: fisherman and farmer; minister and laird, crofter and beachcomber. Saint, shepherd and tinker; schoolgirl and boy. Sometimes this aspiration is expressed in a vision of the poet’s words, acknowledging their source in sheer silence: Language unstable as sand, but poets     Strike on hard rock, carving     Rune and hieroglyph, to celebrate      Breath’s sweet brevity. […] Keep vigil. The tongues flow yet     To rhythms of sea and hill.     Deeper than stone, guard      The pure source, silence. (Brown, 2005, pp. 326-327)

[…] For Scotland I sing,    the Knox-ruined nation, that poet and saint    must rebuild with their passion.

Mackay Brown’s evocation of place is often also infused with Biblical language and images, sometimes in obvious, sometimes in less obvious ways. ‘Lux Perpetua’ is a short poem that fuses the local and the spiritual in a manner that is characteristic of this poet: A star for a cradle

For workers in field    and mill and mine

Sun for plough and net

who break earth’s bread    and crush her wine. Go, good my songs,    be as gay as you can. Weep, if you have to,    the old tears of man. Praise tinker and saint,    and the rose that takes its fill of sunlight    though a world breaks. (Brown, 2005, p. 1)

This prologue to his oevre is a good guide to his poetic method. He crystallizes material from his

A fire for old stories A candle for the dead     * Lux perpetua By such glimmers we seek you (Brown, 2005, p. 341)

Here each image of light (star, sun, fire, candle) is given a special weight, but also brought together, connecting birth, daily life, customs and death. The poem thus creates a reflective space in which the transient and the permanent, the habitual and the devotional are brought together, a space in which life here, in these specific

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surroundings, is honoured and remembered in words that echo the Christmas story.

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is both centred in the world and allowed to leave the world behind, let loose its grip on the mind: In the darkness of night a distinct life resurrects within the lávvu cloth

Nils-Aslak Valkeapää Nils-Aslak Valkeapää, born in Enonetkiö in 1943, is the most celebrated modern poet from Sápmi. Being placed at the intersection of several nations in the Nordic Hemisphere, Sámi culture and language have survived several nations’ political strategy of colonization. In one of his most important collections, Trekways of the Wind (Valkeapää, 1994), he establishes his own ‘frontier of writing’, articulating his resistance to oppressive forces through words that reveal an intimacy with the landscape that is both spontaneous and learned, both an immediate response and a poetic achievement. It is as if the landscape speaks through his own distinctive poetic voice. Images of the tundra, the reindeer, the sun, the night and above all the shifting seasons emerge in words that erase the boundary between the inner and the outer world by bringing out the fundamental responsiveness between the two. In this poem the depth of the former is a response to the lightness of the latter: The nights of spring are so light so light The mind of the lonely person yearns thoughts burn (Valkeapää, 1994, unnumbered)

In some poems, he is closer to the practice of reindeer herding: Separation of the herds Bells clanging Snow whirling up Dogs barking Migration sounds split The cold air (Valkeapää, 1994, unnumbered)

In others, he speaks from within the traditional Sami temporary dwelling, the lávvu, in which he

The fire gives each cheek a red shimmer With the smoked meat I forget the world

The poet’s eye may also be responsive towards the multiple lights of winter on the tundra: Here there is a little of everything and if you have eyes to see with you don’t need to search Northern light flares up ice pearls ignite mountain fox tracks decorate the tundra and every new day you wake up to the laughter of ptarmigans This that they call the dark season (Valkeapää, 1994, unnumbered)

Valkeapäa is a multi-artist: poet, composer, musician and visual artist. And through all these forms of expression he communicates a sense of the totality of the landscape; not a static landscape, though, rather the landscape as a shifting and changing dynamic whole, sensitizing the body and thus shaping the vision of the poet. The shifting of seasons is perhaps the most dominant shaping force of this vision, reflecting its impact on the form of life of reindeer and herds, its highly-developed sensitivity to natural cycles, but also witnessing to its vulnerability to shifts and changes on ‘The Earth, my Mother’, as Valkeapää puts it. In his poetry this vulnerability – the precariousness of life on the tundra – has found its sophisticated rhetorical response.

Connecting with the poet’s capacity to connect Poems by Heaney, Mackay Brown and Valkeapää may serve as examples of subtle uses of language engaged in exploring the poet’s specific

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surroundings. Although all three belong to the north in some sense, their poems have emerged from within very different environments and in different languages and created by poets of different temperaments. However, all three demonstrate the poet’s capacity to connect with his or her environment, and invite us, their readers, to connect with the poet’s capacity to connect. They invite us to appreciate not only facets of the history, the myths and legends that the landscape they live and write is infused with, or the practical and spiritual life lived here. They also help us on a more fundamental level to recognize our inplace-ness, to reopen an original openness to the surrounding world. They relate and re-relate us to our fundamental embeddedness. This embeddedness may elude us wherever we are, not least at home, where habits and routines may blind us to where we are and how being here matters to us. The foreignness of the landscape we visit as tourists may bring this embeddedness home to us, even if – or perhaps even because – it is a ground that is not ours, thus expressing a fundamental aspect of the human condition: in making ourselves at home in the world we actively – and creatively – receive a world that is given; that is not of our own making. Such poetry will not instruct us, or present to us a series of things we must or must not do. Attending to this ground, learning to see and appreciating it with a loving eye, engaging in it imaginatively, may simply fill us with joy, the moral relevance of which should not be underestimated. However, such appreciation may come with a sense of fear of losing what we value. All these poets give expression to an awareness of the vulnerability of their places and landscapes, sometimes in terms of reflection on historical and political conflicts and violence, sometimes in stark ecological terms. Connecting with the poets’ capacity to connect is not turning a blind eye to the fragility of the environment, or to the fragility of its equilibrium. Quite the contrary, poetry of this kind helps us recognize this as an equilibrium that is outside our power to secure, but within our power to upset, and in that way helps us go beyond the simplistic blame-game into which environmental discussions may deteriorate.

Guiding the Tourist to Poetry of Place Poetry is a sophisticated use of language, even when it comes in the form of simple poetic images. How do we make poetry of landscape and place available to tourists? Is it enough to give them a collection of poetry from the area they visit? Most tourists have little or no training in appreciating poetry. Even poets such as Heaney, Mackay Brown and Valkeapää, all of whom are widely read and loved among their own people, may seem inhibiting and unwelcoming, and thus cause anxiety among potential readers who are not familiar with this kind of literature. It takes time and effort to attune to the slow workings of their words, and to recognize the reflective space poetry opens to where we are; its many layers of information and evaluations, its weaving together threads from past and present, revealing the formative ways of living in this place, its conflicts and pressures, the hopes and fears that life here gives rise to. Is there a practical way to break the ice between tourists and poetry? One can assume that simply the tourist’s bodily experience of the environment might prepare her at least a little for the poems; walking the landscape will take her some steps towards an understanding of the sense of place and environment that enters into this poetry. However, perhaps the very idea of tourist guides may play a role in making the connection between poetry and place more available to tourists. Who is best placed to develop such guides to poetry of place and landscape? Hardly the poets themselves: their contribution is their poetry. Hardly the tourist information or tourist industry; their expertise is elsewhere. My suggestion is that it could be the task of local schools. A Danish university college senior lecturer, Dorte Vang Eggersen, has developed a promising and exciting method for place-based readings of literature in schools (Eggersen, 2016, 2017). The method is inspired by thoughts developed by philosophers who emphasize the importance of the bodily experience in making sense of the environment. It connects this line of thought with the didactic assumption that the experience and comprehension of language and literature may be strengthened by being connected with active perception. While the study of literature traditionally is thought of

Response and Responsibility: Poets as Guides for Tourists

as a typical classroom activity, Eggersen’s method brings the study of literature out of the classroom; it brings outdoor exploration of places to bear on the study of literature, and the study of literature to bear on the children’s understanding of the environment. The outdoor experience will alert the pupils to features of the environment, which in turn might open them to the literary text in question, which yet again may allow them to access the environment in new and augmented ways. Eggersen’s method is designed as a stepwise procedure, framed by what might work in pedagogical-didactic situations aimed at learning. On its own it is hardly transferable to the tourist. However, is it conceivable that this kind of educational effort might join efforts to prepare for tourist activities? Is it possible that local schools put their educational effort into producing tools that may help guide the tourists’ steps while they walk the environment they visit? This would mean turning Eggersen’s text-receptive method into a text-productive method, which might have an educational value in itself, bringing reading and writing into closer contact with each other. In addition, such a project might forge connections between tourism, education and poetry. It might bring local children and visitors into closer contact with the environment, with poetry and with each other. One can envisage this being done in a variety of ways and with various levels of elaboration, from simply providing the visitors with the poems and very basic commentary/information to much more elaborate guides that combine landscape and literature in a whole range of ways. The Internet provides a wide range of possibilities: connecting texts to specific localities, providing annotations and explorations of texts, combining them with other Internet resources (history, myth, fauna, flora, etc.). For poetry originally written in a language foreign to most tourists (e.g. Valkeapää’s poetry), Internet resources could include both the audio and graphic presentations of the original texts and their translations. Multi-artists such as Valkeapää could be presented as poet, musician/composer and visual artist simultaneously, so that the tourist would be invited to appreciate all his forms of expressions and their connections to the landscape. With ‘apps’ now making such resources available at the tourist’s fingertips, together with feedback possibilities of various kinds, such a

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guide potentially provides the tourist with assistance to appreciate this environment, both in its depth and breadth, through and by way of its poetry, deepening her understanding of both. In the hands of the open-minded and appreciative tourist, such a guide may facilitate access to that order of poetry which, in the words of Thomas A. Clark quoted above, mobilizes ‘a competence in a landscape which is no longer prosaic’.

Tourists as Hunters and Gatherers of Value No effort to make poetry more available to tourists will make reading that expresses and breeds such competence in a landscape their obvious choice; tourists may not even seek it. However, it is in the nature of poetry to meet needs we do not necessarily recognize before they are met. Poetry invites self-discovery in this very sense; self-discovery through discovery of new ways of appreciating the world. To see the tourist as a fully fledged human being is to invite her to bring the whole stretch of her potentials to the place she visits, also those aspects of herself that seldom are acknowledged and appreciated, also that part of her inner life that asks for solitude and invites reflection. It is to appeal to her perceptive eye and to her listening ear; her willingness to attune to unfamiliar forms of language, and to acknowledge the significance of poetry for a rich and responsive – and responsible – life. This idea should not be taken as an invitation to idealize or romanticize, but rather, as Seamus Heaney puts it: ‘to touch the base of our sympathetic nature while taking in at the same time the unsympathetic reality of the world to which that nature is constantly exposed’ (Heaney, 1995b, p. 29). Moving in a landscape on these terms is an exercise both in perception and reflection, all the more so due to the ecological crisis and the lesson learned from it: our dependence on the fragile equilibrium of nature. While it is outside our power to secure this equilibrium, it is clearly within our power to upset it. Exposing oneself to poetry that is responsive to place and landscape, in the way I have tried to show that Heaney, Mackay Brown and Valkeapää are, means exposing oneself both to one’s own

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vulnerability and to that of our environment. Heaney speaks of ‘poetry’s power to persuade [...] that vulnerable part of our consciousness of its rightness in spite of the evidence of wrongness all around it, the power to remind us that we are hunters and gatherers of values, that our very solitudes and distresses are

creditable, in so far as they, too, are an earnest of our veritable human being’ (Heaney, 1995b, p. 29). Recognizing ourselves as hunters and gatherers of values may be the ultimate gain of our idle journeying, and at the heart of a relation to the environment that is both responsive and responsible.

References Bachelard, G. (1992) The Poetics of Space. Beacon Press, Boston. Bate, J. (1991) Romantic Ecology: Wordsworth and the Environmental Tradition. Routledge, London. Brown, G.M. (2005) The Complete Poems of George Mackay Brown. John Murray, London. Clark, T.A. (1992) Poetry and the space beyond. In: Murray,G. (ed.) Poiesis: Aspects of Contemporary Poetic Activity. The FruitMarket Gallery, Edinburgh, pp. 37–45. Diamond, C. (1999) The Realistic Spirit: Wittgenstein, Philosophy and the Mind. The MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, pp. 291–308. Eggersen, D. (2016) Af sted Med jer. In: Bock,K. (ed.) Genrepædagogik og andre nye veje i læse- og skriveundervisningen. Hans Reitzels Forlag, Copenhagen, pp. 195–214. Eggersen, D. (2017) Dansk I udeskole. In: Ernst,N.-E. (ed.) Udeskoledidaktik – for lærere og pædagoger. Hans Reitzels Forlag, Copenhagen, pp. 137–164. Grigson, G. (1983) The Faber Book of Poems and Places. Faber and Faber, London. Heaney, S. (1995a) The Redress of Poetry. Faber and Faber, London. Heaney, S. (1995b) Crediting Poetry. The Gallery Press, Oldcastle, Ireland. Heaney, S. (1998) Opened Ground: Poems 1966–1996. Faber and Faber, London. Merleau-Ponty, M. (1989) The Phenomenology of Perception. Routledge, London. Murdoch, I. (1991) The Sovereignty of Good. Routledge, London. Nussbaum, M. (1985) ‘Finely Aware and Richly Responsible’: Moral Attention and the Moral Task of Literature. The Journal of Philosophy Vol. 82, No. 10, Eighty-Second Annual Meeting of the American Philosophical Association, Eastern Division (Oct., 1985), pp. 516–529. Po, L. (2012) Bright Moon, White Clouds: Selected Poems of Li Po. Shambahla Publications, Boston. Valkeapää, N.-A. (1994) Trekways of the Wind. DAK, Guovdageaidnu, Norway.

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Learning at Literary Festivals

Giulia Rossetti* and Bernadette Quinn Technological University Dublin, Dublin, Ireland

Introduction Travelling and learning have a long association dating back to at least the time of the Grand Tour during the 17th–19th centuries when travel was synonymous with learning (Falk et  al., 2012; Stone and Petrick, 2013). Writing about the Grand Tour, Towner argued that travel became ‘the process through which many of the most critical aspects of their thought, education and taste were transmitted’ and society at the time understood that ‘to be travelled was to be educated’ (Towner, 2002, p. 227). Over time, travel has assumed more hedonistic connotations, with the development of mass tourism offering Western middle classes the opportunity to travel for leisure, escapism, diversion and relaxation purposes. Yet the strong association between travelling and education persists. Western tourists continue to seek tourism experiences that intellectually engage them through new spaces, ideas and activities (Falk et al., 2012). Indeed, in the future it is expected that informal leisure arenas ‘will provide an important medium through which people can acquire information, develop ideas and construct new visions for themselves’ (Packer and Ballantyne, 2002, p. 183). It might even be that ‘the information they encounter while at leisure may offer the only opportunity to learn about their bonds to the environment, or to their history and culture’ (Moscardo, 1998, p. 4). In this scenario, ‘tourism and leisure

settings have become an important medium through which people can acquire knowledge, develop ideas and construct new visions for themselves and their society’ (Falk et al., 2012, p. 910). From the above it is clear that tourism and leisure settings undoubtedly offer potential for promulgating learning of all kinds, and yet many gaps in understanding how people learn while practising tourism remain (Falk et  al., 2012). This chapter aims to address this deficit by investigating learning at literary festivals. It begins by presenting literary festivals in the context of literary tourism before going on to consider a number of theoretical approaches that could be employed in the attempt to further understandings of how learning forms part of the experience of attending literary festivals. Bourdieu’s (2002 [1986]) ideas about cultural capital have been used in festival contexts, although not comprehensively so, and the remainder of the chapter focuses on examining individual cultural capital acquisition among literary festival attendees. Key among the questions posed are whether people enhance their cultural knowledge and skills by participating in literary festivals and whether literary festivals are rewarding and fulfilling experiences that lead to personal self-improvement. Empirically, findings of an exploratory study focusing on tourist audiences attending two book festivals in Dublin, Ireland, are then reported. The Dublin

*Corresponding author: ​d15127536@​mydit.​ie © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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Book Festival (DBF), founded in 2005, is an annual festival held in the city centre for 4 days each November. It is privately run and drew 4000 attendees in 2016. The Mountains to Sea dlr Book Festival (MTS), meanwhile, is held annually in the coastal town of Dun Laoghaire in South County Dublin. Organized by the local authority, it was established in 2009 and runs annually for 5 days in March. In 2017 it attracted just over 6500 attendees.

Literary Festivals as Forms of Literary Tourism Literary festivals are an increasingly significant component of literary tourism. According to Squire (1996), literary tourism involves travel to places that have strong associations with literary authors or books. They can take at least four forms: literary events, such as literary festivals and fairs (Mintel, 2011); ‘real-life places’ associated with the lives of writers; ‘imagined places’ (Hoppen et  al., 2014, p. 41) associated with written works as settings for stories (Herbert, 2001; Squire, 1996); and bookshop tourism, linked to book towns such as Hay-on-Wye in Wales (Hoppen et al., 2014). Defining literary festivals is complicated (Robertson and Yeoman, 2014). Usually, they are understood to be a subset of cultural festivals (Driscoll, 2014, 2015), with Giorgi (2011a, p. 12) suggesting that they ‘are about the celebration of the written word in readings, discussions or debates’. Often, they are regular, perhaps annual, meetings of writers and readers. According to Ommundsen (2000), their emphasis tends to be on living writers and authors, and they typically feature a variety of debates, book presentations and readings by authors, although they can also offer other types of events like theatre, music concerts or walking tours, delivered over a period of days, from a weekend to 1 or 2 weeks. Usually, their primary goals include: promoting books, offering exposure for emerging authors, building a sense of community and fostering a love of reading. The oldest surviving literary festival in Europe is said to be the Times Cheltenham Literature Festival in England, founded in

1949 (Driscoll, 2014; Giorgi, 2011a, 2011b). For several years it remained the only one of its kind. However, since the 1980s, and particularly since the mid-1990s (Sapiro, 2016), literary festivals have proliferated internationally, and currently there are more than 300 worldwide (Driscoll, 2014). The growth of literary festivals can be understood in the context of changing patterns of cultural production and consumption, and increasingly diverse patterns of leisure and tourism (Waterman, 1998). In this scenario, arts festivals of all kinds have multiplied, especially in urban areas, as city governments use them to restructure their economies, attract tourists and reposition themselves in a highly competitive global market (Sapiro, 2016). In Ireland, the first literary festivals were Listowel Writers’ Week (1970), Cúirt International Festival of Literature in Galway (1985) and the International Literature Festival Dublin (1998). The proliferation of literary festivals has been accompanied by an expansion of festival programmes to include fringe events such as music concerts, art and theatre performances and walking tours (Mintel, 2011; Stewart, 2013). The expansion of festival programming, in the interests of broadening its public appeal including among tourist audiences, has been criticized by some scholars who associate it with the commercialization of aesthetic culture and the broader ‘festivalisation of culture’ (Négrier, 2015). Négrier has claimed that festivals are now experiencing a change from ‘cultural permanence’, an approach that focused on cultural policies and public support for cultural activities, to ‘ephemeral presentism’ that focuses more on the liveliness of the festivity (Négrier, 2015). An important part of Négrier's argument is that it signals a shift away from audience ‘commitment to learning and the development of their cultural capital’, and from cultural ‘asceticism’ to social ‘hedonism’, in which the appreciation of culture is replaced with mere social entertainment and leisure (Négrier, 2015). This argument, which appears quite dualistic in nature, is interrogated in the empirical discussions that follow.

Learning at Literary Festivals

Theoretical Approaches of Learning in Travel and Festival Settings In addressing the study’s research questions as to whether attendance at literary festivals generates rewarding and fulfilling experiences that lead to personal self-actualization and whether tourists enhance their cultural knowledge and skills in the process, a number of different theoretical approaches might be adopted. Some scholars, for instance, have analysed festivals as communities of practice where learning occurs through social and interactive participation (Comunian, 2015; Karlsen, 2007, 2009), following the situated learning theory of Lave and Wenger (1991). Other theoretical frameworks have focused on individual learning and the personal internalization of cultural resources. For instance, Falk et  al. (2012) employed Aristotle’s study on wisdom and three types of competences (Episteme, Techne and Phronesis) as a framework for understanding the role of travel in supporting tourists’ learning. Kolb’s (1984) experiential learning theory is also helpful. It proposes that knowledge is created through experience, or more specifically through the ‘combination of grasping and transforming experience’ (Kolb, 1984, p. 41). Later, Pine and Gilmore (1999) identified education as one of the four realms of experience, while more recently, Falk et  al. (2012, p. 913) asserted that ‘education is seen as a critical element in providing active and absorbing experiences’. According to Robertson and Yeoman (2014), literary festivals are examples of serious leisure activities that can be pursued to accumulate experience and develop knowledge. Importantly, they are further construed as activities where education and entertainment are not viewed antithetically, but rather as activities where learning might be both fun and educational simultaneously. Packer (2006) has called this ‘learning for fun’: tourists may engage in museum visiting, for example, not deliberately to acquire learning outcomes nor for pure hedonism, but because they value and enjoy the process of learning itself. Csikszentmihalyi (1990) argued that several educational leisure experiences could be seen as rewarding and fulfilling, not least because of the multiple benefits they can generate.

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One theoretical idea that has yet to be widely or uniformly used in the festival arena is Bourdieu’s (1984 [1979]) concept of cultural capital. Individual cultural capital refers to a person’s level of education, knowledge and skills, and to the cultural goods they possess. All of these predispose a person to interpret certain forms of culture above others and influence his/ her tastes and behaviours (Ganzeboom, 1982). Individual cultural capital can be thought to exist in three states. The embodied state is made of ‘long-lasting dispositions of the mind and the body’ (Bourdieu, 2002 [1986]), in other words, the personal assimilation and inculcation of knowledge and skills, also called self-improvement, that becomes an integral part of the person. The objectified state includes all cultural goods possessed, while the institutionalized state refers to all of the academic and educational qualifications that a person obtains. According to Bourdieu (2002 [1986]), middle classes are inculcated with cultural capital during primary socialization. These cultural resources are then developed in the field of education and occupation, and activated in the social world as cultural tastes. While Bourdieu’s theoretical writings remain of seminal importance in studying questions related to learning, in the context of the current study it is important to note that for Bourdieu, adult leisure activities, with the exception of museums, did not constitute an important realm for acquiring cultural capital. It is equally important to note that more recent theoretical influences in tourism studies, especially ideas about performativity and co-creation, have the potential to open up new perspectives into the process of how individual cultural capital can come to be embodied through practice. Thus, some scholars seek to understand the acquisition of cultural resources as a co-created activity between the producers (creators/artists/writers) and the consumers (audience/attendees/participants) who actively participate, perform and embody the stage. They ‘apply their skills, knowledge and expertise to create the service’ (Agarwal and Shaw, 2018, p. 30). For the people involved, this makes the personal, value-laden and contextual experience (Vargo and Lusch, 2008) very meaningful. In tourism studies, not surprisingly, co-creation is linked to Pine and Gilmore’s (1999) idea of the

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experience economy (Richards, 2014), where the focus is on the production of an experience and where tourists seek expression, fulfilment and self-actualization.

Acquiring Cultural Capital Through Literary Festivals Festival researchers have employed Bourdieu’s ideas, but not to any great extent. A number of studies have addressed individual cultural capital accumulation through festival participation (Getz and Page, 2016; McClinchey, 2013; Wilks, 2009; Wilks and Quinn, 2016), but much scope for further research remains, especially in the context of literary festivals where studies are few in number. Several other researchers have linked arts festivals and literary festivals with learning in ways that implicitly denote them as sites where cultural capital can be acquired, and in particular, embodied. To begin with, it has been acknowledged that motives to attend arts and music festivals include educational reasons (Crompton, 1979), the desire for cultural exploration (Crompton and McKay, 1997), and the need to learn, to stimulate or challenge oneself (Jeannotte and Planning, 2000). Motives for attending literary festivals include the desire to have stimulating and creative conversations, to listen to other ideas, to be informed about different topics and to learn about local culture (Cassell et al., 2010). They may also include an interest in acquiring cultural skills, such as writing skills in a non-academic site (Driscoll, 2014), or taking notes, like at a conference (Johanson and Freeman, 2012, p. 311). Sometimes attendees can even build cultural capital that they were not expected to build, learning notions they were not expected to learn. This is because, as Lampel (2011) argued, fairs and festivals are environments of ‘predictable unpredictability’. While Cohen (1979) classified tourist experiences into five different categories, namely recreational, diversionary, experiential, experimental and existential, studies on the experiences of literary festival attendees argue that they comprise social, aesthetic, affective and intellectual dimensions (Ommundsen, 2009; Weber, 2015). Some scholars argue that they provide

intellectual stimulation with serious discussions (Driscoll, 2014) and confer ‘cultural capital on attendees’ (Johanson and Freeman, 2012, p. 312). Elsewhere, literary festivals have been described as cultural producers (Sapiro, 2016), ‘alternative education providers’ and sites for self-education which promote reading (Driscoll, 2014, p. 153) and provoke reflexivity ‘by giving authors and the public a chance to speak’ (Sapiro, 2016, p. 13), to think and to participate in conversations (Johanson and Freeman, 2012). Sharing ideas creates opportunities to open dialogues and learn about, for example, other people and cultures (Merfeld-Langston, 2010). Johanson and Freeman (2012) argued that festivals provide audiences with time to reflect, debate and have communal dialogue. Similarly, Robertson and Yeoman (2014) argued that the recent trend of aspirational-experiential consumption of literary festivals is underpinned by the attendees’ willingness to improve knowledge, skills and wellbeing and to enhance social status and individual cultural capital. Sapiro et al. (2015) went further, arguing that participation might develop attendees’ literary capital, which is the literary ability, usually learnt at school, understood as the condition of access to the literary field. This builds on what Wilks (2009) termed the ‘circularity of festival attendance’, whereby cultural capital provides the competence to attend the festivals, at which further cultural capital is developed, both embodied and objectified. All of the above research suggests that festivals are valuable settings for education, intellectual stimulation, fulfilment and cultural capital development. However, some scholars contest this, arguing that some festivals nowadays do not satisfy audience needs for intellectual stimulus since they do not encourage audiences ‘to think really very hard’ (Ommundsen, 2009, p. 32), but instead choose to promote themselves primarily as entertainment sites (Driscoll, 2014). While arguments such as these find fault with festival producers, other researchers critique the consumption arena, suggesting that literary festival-goers are more drawn by the entertainment, the social dimension, the desire of intimate communication and the physical proximity with authors as opposed to the literary debates and intellectual dimensions. In addition, other theorists claim that mere attendance

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and exposure to cultural activities is not enough to significantly impact how individuals interact with culture (Finkielkraut, 1987; Fumaroli, 1991). According to them, the ability of people to achieve an understanding and appreciation of traditional art forms does not merely require cultural participation as this can only be achieved through education and serious study (Merfeld-Langston, 2010). In summary, all of the above discussion points to the contested nature of understandings about how learning is promulgated and acquired in contemporary literary festival settings. Researchers are divided as to the relative importance of entertainment and education in festival-goer experiences and it is not surprising that Szabó (2015) has called for closer investigation into how audiences’ cultural capital can be developed.

Methodology and Methods Responding to Szabó’s (2015) call, this chapter reports the findings of investigations conducted in two book festival settings: the Dublin Book Festival (DBF) and the Mountains to Sea dlr Book Festival (MTS). The study employed a multi-method qualitative design, conducting participant observations and 42 on-site short semi-structured interviews during the festivals. Even if ‘there is growing demand for the measurement of the socio-cultural impacts of these festivals and events’ (Small et  al., 2005), Holloway et al. (2010) have highlighted the importance of meaning not measurement. They have suggested the use of ethnography to bring a deeper understanding to the participants’ experience of festivals. Thus, this is an ethnographic collective case study (Yin, 2003) where the aim is not to measure or to create the basis for a replication but to foster the understanding of a process. The participant observations, undertaken during the festivals, in and around the public venues, both inside and outside, were done with the agreement and consent of the festival organizers. They lasted for the full duration of the two festivals so as to maximize data collection (Holloway et  al., 2010), and were partially structured with field notes following Spradley’s (1980) template. The 42 on-site short

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semi-structured interviews were conducted with adult female and male festival attendees (19 during the DBF and 23 during the MTS). Interviewees were randomly selected during different time periods throughout the festivals, immediately before or after programme events. Before starting the interviews, which lasted 10– 15 min, information and consent forms were given to all respondents. The opening question served as a filter, asking attendees if they were residents or tourists. Only the data relating to tourists (including excursionists) are reported here. The interview procedure followed a semistructured guide that allowed interviewees to respond to the questions in their own terms, allowing ‘individual perspectives and experiences to emerge’ (Patton, 1987, p. 111). Open-ended questions were employed in order to allow informants to express their opinion without influence from the researcher (Veal, 2011). The interviews were recorded and then transcribed and the data were gathered between November 2016 and March 2017.

Profiling the Literary Festival-Goers Encountered The literature on literary festivals suggests that female attendees predominate and this was supported here. In total, 15 men and 27 women were interviewed. The literature further suggests that the majority of audiences are middle-aged and this too was supported here. Close to half of interviewees at the MTS were aged in their 60s. Fourteen of the 23 were retired, either from a career related to literature, such as a writer or librarian, or from a professional occupation like a doctor or a university lecturer. Most of the remaining interviewees currently work in careers related to literature, as e.g. a student, journalist or book dealer. A small number of interviewees had a lower ranking occupation but were either passionate readers or were attending along with someone else. Similarly, at the DBF 11 of the 19 interviewees were aged over 50, while only three were in their 20s. Almost all the informants had a career related to literature, such as writers, publishers or editors (eight interviewees); researchers or teachers (3); students (2); while one interviewee was retired and a passionate

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reader. This audience profile information is to be expected, given that previous researchers have argued that literary festival attendees are middle class, highbrow (Driscoll, 2014) and all seem to be readers, with the majority also writers, even if aspiring or emerging (Ommundsen, 2009). First-time attendance among DBF interviewees was particularly high (63%), while multiple attendance was low (16%). In contrast, at the MTS, repeat (52%) and first-time (44%) attendance rates were quite similar. Thus, the majority of attendees interviewed were attending the study festivals for the first time and were doing so alone. Previous research suggests that literary tourists seem to have high cultural and economic capital (Driscoll, 2014). Accordingly, among the MTS interviewees a majority had high levels of previous cultural capital, expressed in level of education (35% postgraduate, 22% bachelor, 17% doctoral, 13% secondary, 4% diploma) and numbers of books owned (43% hundreds, 22% thousands, in contrast to 13% not many), as cultural goods. As regards cultural participation levels, in this study, more than half of the interviewees at both festivals had attended other literary festivals in the previous 12 months (53% at the DBF and 52% at the MTS). Interviewees expressed several reasons for attending, in line with the literature. As can be seen from Fig. 9.1, educational/learning motives did not dominate, rather job-related motivation emerged as important at the DBF, with interest in the topic or author(s) being most important at the MTS.

Becoming Embodied Interviewing attendees in situ, while the festivals were ongoing, yielded insights into the ways in which individual cultural capital becomes embodied through people’s attendance at literary festivals. Festival attendees could be seen to be actively using their attendance at the festivals to co-create and shape their experiences in particular ways. In the process, they could be seen to be engaged in a variety of activities aimed at fulfilling their interests and needs. The following section tries to make sense of these findings, beginning with a consideration of what attendees learned at the festival. The findings from the observations reveal how tourists perform particular types of roles as they experience the festivals, thereby reproducing festival space in the process (Edensor, 2001). Before the programme events started, they entered the festival venues, all of which were indoors, and occupied seats. They could be seen and heard chatting about the topic of the event or having private conversations. They drank coffee, tea or wine, read newspapers, used mobile phones, read a flyer, took pictures, laughed, and perused the books they had just bought. As such, they were behaving in a way that was ‘appropriate’ to the festival setting where they awaited the start of the next staged performance. During the events, whether readings, panel discussions or other performances, they listened attentively and remained seated. They continued to drink their

Fig. 9.1.  Motivations for attending the DBF and the MTS festivals (n: person).

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refreshments, some of them occasionally taking short videos, or pictures without flash in order not to disturb the scene. Some of them took notes, read the flyer and closed their eyes during poetry performances. During most of the events, people could be heard laughing at least once, with most of them smiling or nodding at various points. At times, they were actively engaged in expressing empathy with the performers, forming an intangible connection that crossed any notional stage – audience divide. For example, they laughed at jokes or became serious and sad while listening to the speech of a writer who told how she faced the death of her mother from Alzheimer’s disease. They also interacted with the performers during the events in various ways. For instance, everyone clapped together at certain moments. Some raised their hands to ask questions during the Q&A sessions, and waited for their turn to talk. Everyone was very polite, in a manner appropriate to the situation. Schechner (2004) wrote that the ways in which people ‘cool off ’ after performances are less explored but very important. After the events, attendees left the venues chatting. Some of them directly left the festival environs, some went to other events. Others stayed near the venues chatting, laughing, drinking, reading the flyer or texting or calling people on their mobile devices. Still others went to buy books or queued to have a book signed. Between events, they related to the festival venues differently. They did not have to listen in silence. Instead, they could talk (even loudly), buy books at the book stall, walk around, make calls, read the flyer or books, drink and eat. Their way of being at the festival now altered, as the programmed performance had ended and they now knew to adopt a different style of interacting in the setting. The spatial context within which the festival events were staged could be seen to influence how attendees interacted and otherwise practised being there. At the MTS festival, events were staged in two different buildings, which meant that attendees were more dispersed and on the move between locations. At the DBF, in contrast, an indoor space called the ‘Winter Garden’, housing the book stall, the coffee shop and the children’s corner, created a welcoming, convivial atmosphere that encouraged attendees to pause, stay, read and relax in social encounters.

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What did people learn and how did they learn it? The interview data, meanwhile, showed how and where learning featured in all of the above. When asked if they thought they had learned anything by being at the festival, some were adamant that they had: ‘of course I’ve learned something. I’m getting the book and I’m intent on reading it’ (Helen, MTS). Most people thought they had learned something, although sometimes they couldn’t actually name what it was they had learned. The learning reported varied widely, with interviewees speaking of the festival in terms of: being informative, filling ‘gaps in my knowledge’ (Helen, MTS), developing views and perspectives, countering previously held ideas, understanding why people write, understanding themselves and other people, and learning about particular books and authors. However, some study participants either did not equate the festival with learning or seemed not at all sure that learning featured in their festival experience. One man, when asked whether he was expecting to learn anything, initially said that ‘learn’ was the ‘wrong word’. He went on: ‘I’m expecting to enjoy it and I’m expecting to maybe meet some people and talk to some people and …. Yeah maybe learn is ok, maybe I gain some knowledge of how the publishing world works…’ (John, DBF). Another similarly explained ‘Hmm… I don’t … learn about (an author), yeah, probably yeah, I wouldn’t say I have learnt anything life changing’ (Aoife, MTS). There was, however, an element of ‘discovering new things’ (Sarah, MTS) of finding inspiration and being invigorated. There was a sense that attendees sometimes picked up something that they had not anticipated learning about, and that this was part of the festival experience: ‘yeah, just because you’re out there, you know, you just hear about things while if you’re just sitting at home, you don’t know’ (Julia, MTS); ‘And that’s the best part, isn’t it? Yeah, yeah... the unpredictable’ (Robert, DBF). Echoing the ‘quasi-scholastic’ atmosphere that Bourdieu associated with museums, the data found evidence of some attendees actively trying to ensure that they did learn. The sample included some people who had attended the festival full of purpose. Some came with children

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and for them the festival was a way of encouraging their children to read more (Michelle, DBF). Others took notes for reference after the event. One female visitor (Lisa) to the DBF explained: ‘Yeah, I always take notes when I come to these kinds of talks…. Otherwise I remember nothing’. Another said that when she got home she ‘might write down a few’ (Julia, MTS). However, others did not: ‘if something hits me, it stays in me, it comes back from an emotional point of view, I don’t need to write this’ (Deirdre, MTS). While the written word was central to both festivals, for some attendees, the attraction lay in listening. One man, a repeat attendee, spoke of the difficulties he has in both reading and writing, and explained that he learns by listening: ‘This is one of the reasons why I come to these events. Rather than by reading I learn by listening’ (Kevin, MTS). Clearly, attendees valued the interaction with writers and poets, from whom they learned all manner of things. However, attendees also valued interactions with other attendees. Those with professional connections to the literary field appreciated the ability for people ‘all over the industry getting together and exchanging information and networking with other people and getting together in a way you wouldn’t generally get to do the rest of the year’ (Jessica, DBF). Through these interactions they gleaned information that was both of interest and of use to them.

Entertainment or education? In general, there was a strong sense in the data that the people who participated in the study seemed very much at ease in the festival setting. In large part, this was because they were well practised in both the habit of reading and familiar with literature more generally. As already discussed, interviewees tended to possess lots of books and were interested in reading. Many were also well practised in the art of attending and being at literary festivals, being repeat tourists to either the particular literary festival under study or to other literary festivals. The meanings that festival attendance generated for interviewees can be understood in this context, with one attendee describing the festival as: a fulfilment

of what my … literary… my connection to literature. It fulfils an element of my enjoyment of literature’ (David, MTS) Equally, there is no doubt that the festival had educational connotations for the majority of interviewees. As one attendee articulated: ‘I mean I like intelligent conversations, so it’s meaningful for me to attend an event that engages in meaning for conversations’ (David, MTS). Yet a key finding of the study is that what attendees understood by the concept ‘learning’ and how that learning was experienced differed from person to person. The responses of several participants suggested that to think of entertainment and education in dichotomous terms is meaningless: ‘these two are not set against one another’ (Mary, MTS). Repeatedly, attendees explained: ‘They both have to work together, don’t they? Yeah, you learn when you are enjoying yourself and you enjoy yourself when you are learning’ (Jane, MTS); ‘When I’m gaining knowledge I also enjoy it, because the knowledge I’ve gained has been interesting’ (Ruth, MTS); ‘It was serious in part and funny in part’ (Shane, MTS); ‘I think if you enjoy something you learn more’ (Ian, MTS); ‘It’s for entertainment, but part of that idea of entertainment is learn something’ (Elizabeth, MTS). It was clear that people were absorbing and feeling the import of their encounters in the festival site and in having experiences that were simultaneously educational, entertaining and interesting, attendance at the festival proved to be meaningful. As one woman explained: ‘If you watch television… for instance, soap opera, you enjoy it but maybe you enjoy it for the moment. … If you go to something that stimulates you… you learn something, you find afterwards you dwell, you analyse, you process it and you have a longer value’ (Elizabeth, MTS).

Plans for acting on it afterwards? In line with Kolb’s (1984) argument that learning unfolds in cyclical fashion, there was quite a lot of evidence that the festival created an ‘aftereffect’. While the data showed people actively experiencing the festival events and in effect embodying cultural capital in the process through listening, taking notes, having books signed,

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shaking hands, asking questions, etc., it was clear that the practice did not end there. Rather, it was going to carry through into routine daily life afterwards in a variety of ways. As several attendees explained: ‘I’m sure I’ll always be quoting something I’ve heard’ (Raquel, DBF); ‘when I go back home I might write down a few (notes) and I have to think about the questions people were asking’ (Julia, MTS); ‘I like to look back on them (notes), read them… and for people who didn’t attend I like to share what I have’ (Lisa, DBF). One woman talked about buying a book, reading it and then passing it on to her daughter-in-law. Another explained how she would share the experience widely: ‘among friends and that kind of thing? Oh yeah, definitely. I have already done it today… I was telling my hairdresser about coming here (laughing) so yeah, you pass it on. You know books inspire, authors inspire, they want people to enjoy … to have that experience’ (Jane, MTS). Another obvious way in which the experience of the festival spilled over into everyday life was through the purchasing of books. The data showed a tendency for attendees to purchase books as part of their festival experience: more than half of those interviewed at MTS had bought books, while 21% of interviewees at the DBF had done so. They had acquired these books because they wanted to fill knowledge gaps or to learn from particular authors, as in the case of Damien (MTS) who explained ‘she (the author) can make things that I don’t know how to do but I’d like to do’. Simply liking to read was another reason offered: ‘I mean I like to read… so it’s important that I always have books around to read’ (Shane, MTS).

Discussion In line with the literature (Driscoll, 2014), these findings suggest that literary festival tourists are mainly female, middle aged, regional or domestic in terms of place of origin, passionate readers, with a current or previous career related to literature, and with high levels of previously acquired cultural capital, expressed in their level of education, books owned and cultural participation.

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As regards objectified cultural capital, the study found a tendency to accumulate cultural resources in the form of books during the festivals. Thus, akin to the ‘quasi-scholastic atmosphere’ (Bourdieu, 1984 [1979], p. 75) of museum visiting, literary festivals might be understood as places of cultural goods accumulation, usually for self-educational purposes, but also to support the artists concerned or for professional reasons. However, much more complex is the question of how festivals play a role in the embodiment of cultural capital. While Robertson and Yeoman (2014, p. 312) suggest that attending literary festivals may be a valuable experience that ‘confers cultural capital on attendees’, a key argument here is that they offer people opportunities to both actively acquire cultural capital and to practise expressing and personifying cultural capital in a variety of ways. There is a subtle but important difference. As could be seen from the data, people choose how to go about learning in different ways during literary festivals. Knowledge and skills can be acquired through listening, emotional learning, situated learning (Lave and Wenger, 1991) that involves learning with and from other people, and also through the act of recording, such as taking notes. The festival also has an ‘after-effect’ which sees attendees remembering, reflecting on, and continuing to engage with the tangible and intangible cultural resources they acquired. The reasons why these festival attendees were interested in learning varied from specific job purposes to personal self-education aims. Similarly to Cassell et al. (2010), this study shows that usually literary festival tourists are willing to learn and to be informed in what Robertson and Yeoman (2014) defined as aspirational-experiential acts of consumption. Developing knowledge and skills can sometimes be a motivation for attendance when there is an expectation to learn. As Driscoll (2014) claimed, people may decide to attend literary festivals for the purpose of acquiring cultural skills, such as writing skills in a non-academic environment. Echoes of this behaviour were evident in this study’s findings. However, it must be noted that the act of learning may also be unexpected, since festivals can be environments of ‘predictable unpredictability’ (Lampel, 2011, p. 342), as the data here reinforce. The nature of the learning can be diverse. It can be strictly linked to the field of literature,

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to what Sapiro et al. (2015) called literary capital, or it may be much broader. For a number of both foreign international tourists and non-native domestic attendees studied here, for example, festivals were arenas for learning about Irish culture, history or even for improving their English proficiency. Tourists may learn about books and authors, views and perspectives, local history and culture, developing new knowledge and tastes. Thus, as Chwe (1998) claimed, literary festivals may be vehicles for ‘common knowledge generation’ (p. 47). Overall, while some researchers have expressed doubts about whether it is possible to develop embodied cultural capital through literary festival attendance (Driscoll, 2014; Finkielkraut, 1987; Fumaroli, 1991; Merfeld-Langston, 2010; Ommundsen, 2009), this study’s findings suggest that it is possible. The data presented here show how, in attending literary festivals, people live out their engagement with literature, practise their habit of reading and writing, and acquire all kinds of information and knowledge that pertain to the literary field and more widely. The enhanced cultural knowledge and skills developed during attendance stay with them after the festival ends, embodied as cultural capital. Thus, the argument advanced here is that literary festivals can be rewarding and fulfilling experiences that lead to personal selfimprovement. They meet the needs of tourists, and indeed attendees more generally, who seek expression, fulfilment and self-actualization. During attendance, they employ their cultural resources, especially knowledge and skills, to create valuable experiences and in the process further develop their cultural capital (Agarwal and Shaw, 2018). The findings here clearly show that individual attendees play an active role in this, co-creating their own experience as they interact, engage and relate to the performers and also to other actors, including other attendees. Literary festivals, therefore, can be defined as cultural producers (Sapiro, 2016), ‘alternative education providers’ and sites for selfeducation that promote reading (Driscoll, 2014, p. 153). Even when educational motives did not dominate, the majority of the interviewees said that the experience was interesting, stimulating and intellectual, reflecting what Weber (2015) defined as ‘the intellectual dimension’ of the attendance. Thus, tourists might improve their

knowledge and skills, considering the time spent on the festival as ‘quality time’. These findings challenge Négrier’s (2015) argument that audiences’ commitment to learning is weakening in favour of the search for social hedonism, at least in the literary festival setting. Instead, the findings clearly show that the acquisition of embodied cultural capital occurs in tandem with entertainment as ‘two sides of one coin’ (Kevin, MTS). In finding that tourists engage in literary festivals because they find it both enjoyable and educational simultaneously, the study supports Packer (2006), who argued that tourists usually enjoy the process of learning itself.

Conclusions Travel and learning have always been interwoven and yet much scope remains for furthering understanding of the relationship between the two domains. This chapter has explored literary festivals in relation to literary tourism, aiming to understand the learning dimensions of tourists’ literary festival experiences, using Bourdieu’s (1984 [1979], 2002 [1986]), cultural capital concept as a theoretical framework. The qualitative data were collected at two long-established Irish literary festivals, the Dublin Book Festival and the Mountains to Sea dlr Book Festival. The study concludes that literary festivals can be fulfilling and rewarding experiences that lead to personal self-improvement. Tourists actively co-create their own experiences, in ways that for them are stimulating, beneficial and compelling, embodying cultural capital in the process. Thus, literary festivals can be understood as learning environments, and as arenas for individual embodied and objectified cultural capital acquisition where tourists can enhance their cultural knowledge, tastes and skills through participation. The paper further concludes that while the festival experience can be seen to involve strong elements of self-directed learning, this learning always occurs in tandem with entertainment and enjoyment. Theoretically, the study contributes by exploring Bourdieu’s cultural capital ideas in an informal, adult-dominated, learning environment. Informal learning environments are increasingly important as Moscardo (1998)

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and Packer and Ballantyne (2002) have pointed out, as life-long learning increasingly characterizes contemporary living. While this research offers valuable insights into the learning dimensions of literary festival experiences, it has limitations. The topic being investigated is under-researched in the literature and the study presented here is exploratory in nature. Clearly, there is much

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potential to extend research into the learning dimensions of the literary festival experience, using Bourdieu’s cultural capital ideas. An obvious line of future enquiry would be to investigate whether the experience of literary festivals differs from that of cultural or other festivals more generally. It is hoped that this study might prompt further research into this important topic.

References Agarwal, S. and Shaw, G. (2018) Heritage, Screen and Literary Tourism. Channel View Publications, Bristol, UK. Bourdieu, P. (1984 [1979]) Distinction. A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Bourdieu, P. (2002 [1986]) The forms of capital. In: Biggard,N.W. (ed.) Readings in Economic Sociology. Blackwell, Malden, Massachusetts. Cassell, G., Lema, J. and Agrusa, J. (2010) Developing niche tourism: a literary festival in Montserrat. Consortium Journal of Hospitality & Tourism 15(1), 61–73. Chwe, M.S.-Y. (1998) Culture, circles, and commercials: publicity, common knowledge, and social coordination. Rationality and Society 10(1), 47–75. Cohen, E. (1979) A phenomenology of tourist experiences. Sociology 13(2), 179–201. DOI: 10.1177/003803857901300203. Comunian, R. (2015) Festivals as communities of practice: learning by doing and knowledge networks among artists. In: Bianchini, F., Maughan, C., Jordan, J. and Newbold,C. (eds) Focus on Festivals: Contemporary European Case Studies and Perspectives. Goodfellow, Oxford. Crompton, J.L. (1979) Motivations for pleasure vacation. Annals of Tourism Research 6(4), 408–424. DOI: 10.1016/0160-7383(79)90004-5. Crompton, J.L. and McKay, S.L. (1997) Motives of visitors attending festival events. Annals of Tourism Research 24(2), 425–439. DOI: 10.1016/S0160-7383(97)80010-2. Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1990) Flow. The Psychology of Optimal Experience. Harper Perennial, New York. Driscoll, B. (2014) The middlebrow pleasures of literary festivals. In: Driscoll,B. (ed.) The New Literary Middlebrow. Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke, UK. Driscoll, B. (2015) Sentiment analysis and the literary festival audience. Continuum 29(6), 861–873. DOI: 10.1080/10304312.2015.1040729. Edensor, T. (2001) Performing tourism, staging tourism: (Re)producing tourist space and practice. Tourist Studies 1(1), 59–81. DOI: 10.1177/146879760100100104. Falk, J.H., Ballantyne, R., Packer, J. and Benckendorff, P. (2012) Travel and learning: A neglected tourism research area. Annals of Tourism Research 39(2), 908–927. DOI: 10.1016/j.annals.2011.11.016. Finkielkraut, A. (1987) La Défaite De La Pensée. Gallimard, Paris. Fumaroli, M. (1991) L’etat Culturel. Une Religion Moderne, Fallois, Paris. Ganzeboom, H.B.G. (1982) Explaining differential participation in high-cultural activities: A confrontation of information-processing and status-seeking theories. In: Werner,R. (ed.) Theoretical Models and Empirical Analyses. E.S. Publications, Utrecht, The Netherlands. Getz, D. and Page, S.J. (2016) Progress and prospects for event tourism research. Tourism Management 52, 593–631. DOI: 10.1016/j.tourman.2015.03.007. Giorgi, L. (2011a) A celebration of the word and the stage for political debate: Literary festivals in Europe today. In: European Commission (ed.) Euro-Festival Project. European Arts Festivals – Strengthening Cultural Diversity. European Commission, Brussels. Giorgi, L. (2011b) Between tradition, vision and imagination. The public sphere of literature festivals. In: Giorgi, L., Sassatelli, M. and Delanty,G. (eds) Festivals and the Cultural Public Sphere. Routledge, Oxon. DOI: 10.2139/ssrn.1781241.

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Herbert, D. (2001) Literary places, tourism and the heritage experience. Annals of Tourism Research 28(2), 312–333. DOI: 10.1016/S0160-7383(00)00048-7. Holloway, I., Brown, L. and Shipway, R. (2010) Meaning not measurement: Using ethnography to bring a deeper understanding to the participant experience of festivals and events. International Journal of Event and Festival Management 1(1), 74–85. Hoppen, A., Brown, L. and Fyall, A. (2014) Literary tourism: Opportunities and challenges for the marketing and branding of destinations? Journal of Destination Marketing & Management 3(1), 37–47. DOI: 10.1016/j.jdmm.2013.12.009. Jeannotte, S. (2000) Cultural symbiosis: Cultural participation and cohesive communities. Canada Department of Heritage, Ottawa, Ontario. Johanson, K. and Freeman, R. (2012) The reader as audience: The appeal of the writers’ festival to the contemporary audience. Continuum 26(2), 303–314. DOI: 10.1080/10304312.2011.590575. Karlsen, S. (2007) The Music Festival as an Arena for Learning. Lulea University of Technology, Lulea, Sweden. Karlsen, S. (2009) Learning through music festivals. International Journal of Community Music 2(2–3), 129–141. DOI: 10.1386/ijcm.2.2-3.129_1. Kolb, D.A. (1984) Experiental Learning. Prentice Hall, Englewood Cliffs. Lampel, J. (2011) Converting values into other values: Fairs and festivals as resources valuation and trade events. In: Moeran, B. and Pedersen,J.S. (eds) Negotiating Values in the Creative Industries: Fairs, Festivals and Competitive Events. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, UK. Lave, J. and Wenger, E. (1991) Situated Learning: Legitimate Peripheral Participation. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, UK. McClinchey, K.A. (2013) Fostering social capital and building cultural capital through multicultural festival experiences. Proceedings of the TTRA Annual Conference: Tourism Research Capital. This Time Is Different. TTRA Canada Conference, Ontario, Canada, pp. 71–77. Merfeld-Langston, A.L. (2010) Celebrating literature to shape citizenship: France's 2007 ‘Lire En Fête’. Modern & Contemporary France 18(3), 343–356. DOI: 10.1080/09639489.2010.493933. Mintel (2011) Literary Tourism – International – September 2011. Mintel group. Available at: http://​reports.​ mintel.​com/​display/​592590/?__​cc=1 Moscardo, G. (1998) Interpretation and sustainable tourism: Functions, examples and principles. Journal of Tourism Studies 9(1), 2. Négrier, E. (2015) Festivalisation: patterns and limits. In: Newbold, C., Maughan, C., Jordan, J. and Bianchini,F. (eds) Focus on Festivals: Contemporary European Case Studies and Perspectives, 1st edn. Goodfellow Publishers, Oxford, UK. Ommundsen, W. (2000) The circus is in town: Literary festivals and the mapping of cultural heritage. Journal of the Association for the Study of Australian Literature, 173–179. Ommundsen, W. (2009) Literary festivals and cultural consumption. Australian Literary Studies 24(1), 19– 34. DOI: 10.20314/als.8316a06a76. Packer, J. (2006) Learning for fun: the unique contribution of educational leisure experiences. Curator: The Museum Journal 49(3), 329–344. DOI: 10.1111/j.2151-6952.2006.tb00227.x. Packer, J. and Ballantyne, R. (2002) Motivational factors and the visitor experience: A comparison of three sites. Curator: The Museum Journal 45(3), 183–198. DOI: 10.1111/j.2151-6952.2002.tb00055.x. Patton, M.Q. (1987) How to Use Qualitative Methods in Evaluation. SAGE Publications Inc., London. Pine, B.J. and Gilmore, J.H. (1999) The Experience Economy: Work is Theatre & Every Business a Stage. Harvard Business School Press, Boston. Richards, G. (2014) Tourism Trends: The Convergence of Culture and Tourism. Academy for Leisure, NHTV University of Applied Science, the Netherlands. Robertson, M. and Yeoman, I. (2014) Signals and signposts of the future: Literary festival consumption in 2050. Tourism Recreation Research 39(3), 321–342. DOI: 10.1080/02508281.2014.11087004. Sapiro, G. (2016) The metamorphosis of modes of consecration in the literary field: Academies, literary prizes, festivals. Poetics 59, 5–19. DOI: 10.1016/j.poetic.2016.01.003. Sapiro, G., Picaud, M., Pacouret, J. and Seiler, H. (2015) L'amour de la littérature: Le festival, nouvelle instance de production de la croyance. Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales 1(206–207), 108–137. Schechner, R. (2004) Performance Theory. Routledge, London. Small, K., Edwards, D. and Sheridan, L. (2005) A flexible framework for evaluating the socio-cultural impacts of a (small) festival. International Journal of International Event Research 1(1), 66–77.

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Spradley, J.P. (1980) Participant Observation. Holt, Rinehart & Winston, New York. Squire, S.J. (1996) Literary tourism and sustainable tourism: promoting ‘Anne of Green Gables’ in Prince Edward Island. Journal of Sustainable Tourism 4(3), 119–134. DOI: 10.1080/09669589608667263. Stewart, C. (2013) The rise and rise of writers' festivals. In: Harper, G. (ed.) A Companion to Creative Writing. John Wiley & Sons, Ltd, West Sussex, UK. Stone, M.J. and Petrick, J.F. (2013) The educational benefits of travel experiences: a literature review. Journal of Travel Research 52(6), 731–744. Szabó, J.Z. (2015) Festivals, conformity and socialisation. In: Newbold, C., Maugan, C., Jordan, J. and Franco,B. (eds) Focus on Festivals. Contemporary European Case Studies and Perspectives. Goodfellow Publishers, Oxford, UK. Towner, J. (2002) Literature, tourism and the Grand Tour. In: Andersen, H.-C. and Robinson, M. (eds) Literature and Tourism. Reading and Writing Tourism Texts. Continuum, London. Vargo, S.L. and Lusch, R.F. (2008) Service-dominant logic: Continuing the evolution. Journal of the Academy of Marketing Science 36(1), 1–10. DOI: 10.1007/s11747-007-0069-6. Veal, A.J. (2011) Research Methods for Leisure & Tourism, 4th edn. Pearson Education Limited, Essex, UK. Waterman, S. (1998) Carnivals for elites? The cultural politics of arts festivals. Progress in Human Geography 22(1), 54–74. DOI: 10.1191/030913298672233886. Weber, M. (2015) Conceptualizing audience experience at the literary festival. Continuum 29(1), 84–96. DOI: 10.1080/10304312.2014.986058. Wilks, L. (2009) Initiations, interaction, cognoscenti: social and cultural capital in the music festival experience. Thesis. The Open University. Wilks, L. and Quinn, B. (2016) Linking social capital, cultural capital and heterotopia at the folk festival. Journal of Comparative Research in Anthropology and Sociology 7(1), 23–39. Yin, R.K. (2003) Case Study Research: Design and Methods, 3rd edn. SAGE Publications, London, UK.

10 

Library Tourism

Alex Lainsbury* CABI, Wallingford, UK

Introduction Library tourism may seem a niche subset of literary tourism, but libraries and tourism can intertwine throughout the tourist journey. A tourist in the planning stage may use a library computer for research or to track down deals on flights and accommodation. They may also use a library to check out a guide book pre-travel. And, of course, libraries are the homes of the objects that inspire so much travel (explored in greater detail in other chapters); the books themselves, and the real and fictional worlds they create in a reader’s mind. Libraries represent a form of freedom, which naturally links with travel and tourism. Travel is liberation – a literal ‘breaking free’ of the boundaries of everyday life. As Negut and Neacșu (2013, p. 45) state, tourism is an ‘expression of individual freedom’. Libraries, likewise, are institutions that flourish in a free society, democratizing access to information for all individuals. As MacLennan (2007, p. i) argues, In societies where democratization of information is fostered, libraries are promoted as a source of pride and cultural achievement in buildings that are constructed as architectural monuments. In war-torn regions or in areas under authoritarian control, library materials are censured and cultural epochs are erased or destroyed.

It follows that we can consider the two institutions of libraries and tourism to have a common ethos at heart: one the rights and freedoms of the individual, and the other of the society. The relationship between libraries and tourism is complex, however, and libraries can also be the object of tourism. Some of the oldest institutions in the world are libraries, such as the Bodleian in Oxford, which first opened in 1602 (Bodleian Libraries, 2016). History can be read in their changing form and architecture as much as in the books that they house. Tourists flock to appreciate their beauty, soak up their atmosphere, use their facilities and take part in the events and exhibitions they hold. In this chapter, I review library tourism, considering the role and value of a library to a destination and to the individual tourist. I also consider the intersections of travel and libraries more widely, and suggest strategies libraries could use to boost visitor numbers to their business and destination.

The Library as a Visitor Attraction Libraries can be visitor attractions in their own right (see Table 10.1). As Urry (2002, p. 1) argues, ‘there is no universal experience that is true for all tourists at all times’; some tourists prefer a beach, others a mountain, and still others a cultural experience such as a museum or

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© CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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Table 10.1.  The library as a visitor attraction: ratings and reviews within the host city. Attraction rating within citya

Number of reviewsa

New York Public Library, New York, USA

23

9381

State Library of Victoria, Melbourne, Australia

11

1888

Bodleian Library, Oxford, UK

7

1369

All data from Tripadvisor.co.uk, January 2017.

a

library. The library’s importance in a destination varies depending on its surroundings, however – both in competition with other attractions (for example, New York Public Library, which must contend with Central Park, the Empire State Building and the National 9/11 Memorial and Museum) and the branding of their destination (for example, Oxford, a city whose long association with the pursuit of knowledge is reflected in its chosen motto adorning its coat of arms: ‘Fortis est veritas’ – ‘The truth is strong’ (Jenkins, 2007)). Despite this, however, tourism agencies often fail to recognize libraries as a source of attractions and income, preventing them from being included and therefore used in a destination’s development plan. VisitBritain, despite acknowledging that 2% of international visitors surveyed visited literary, music, TV or film locations (bringing revenue of up to £610 million), did not include visiting a library as an option in the survey for a cultural event or city-based activity, unlike museums, art galleries, gardens or nightclubs (VisitBritain, 2016). Similarly, the world’s oldest library, at the Kairaouine Mosque (in Fes, Morocco) – a place of interest for most travellers, and potentially even a secular pilgrimage site for some – is only accessible by special arrangement or for Muslim visitors. Libraries can form tourist attractions in a multitude of ways, from their architecture, which can vary from some of the oldest within a city to strikingly modern, to their role as both a promoter and purveyor of cultural enrichment.

Architecture Architecture is a major draw for tourism (see Table  10.2), to the extent that destinations increasingly consider touristic impact when designing new buildings. Tourists are motivated

‘by a wish to see cultural elements and highquality architecture’ (Agarwal et al., 2018), so if a new construction can become a ‘place to see’, linked to positive destination image, it is a reason for people to visit. As Konrad (2010) argued, ‘recognizable and memorizable iconography of buildings ... is crucial to the tourist’s world’. One reason for this could be our increasingly visually focused world, where holidays are posted across social media. Here, recognizable or beautiful architecture help to validate the tourist, proving their presence in a destination. An ability to holiday within exotic locales – and prove it – suggests success in life. Furthermore, images are liked and shared by those at home; the more likes, the more popular a user appears, and the further the rise in social standing. A ‘like’ also produces gratification, with an external person spending time on the poster’s life and delivering a reward. Goeldner and Ritchie (2009, p. 247) state: ‘internationally recognized tourism icons are a powerful draw to any destination lucky enough to have inherited or created one’. The increase in tourism numbers, and the increasingly visual media through which we navigate the world, has therefore made ‘the construction

Table 10.2.  A snapshot of architectural tourist visitor numbers. Architectural monument

Visitor numbers

Eiffel Tower, Paris, France

Almost 7 milliona

Empire State Building, New York, USA

3.67–4.06 millionb

Shard, London, UK

900,000c

Burj Khalifa, Dubai, UAE

1.87 milliond

La Tour Eiffel (2017), average yearly visitors. Ali (2013), visitor range for years 2007–2011. c Evening Evening Standard (2014) Visitors from February 2013 to end of 2013. d Gulf News (2014) Visitors in 2013. a

b

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Box 10.1.  The Library of Birmingham. The Library of Birmingham (Fig.  10.1) opened in 2013, after a conception period of 6 years (BBC News, 2016). In 2015, the library received nearly 2 million visits and was the most visited tourist attraction outside of London (Association of Leading Visitor Attractions, 2017a). In addition to local services such as book lending, it markets itself as a ‘centre of excellence for literacy, research, study, skills development, entrepreneurship, creating expression, health information and much more’ (Birmingham Post, 2013) and provides a programme of events, activities and exhibitions. Such a varied offering in a new, architecturally interesting space should be a recipe for success. But libraries are forever dependent on government and local authority funding, and when this was cut in April 2015, opening hours were halved, including a reduction to just 6 hours at the weekend (ITV.com, 2015). A reduction in weekend services is likely to hit locals and domestic tourists the most, and visitation subsequently slowed, with the library failing to make the 2016 visitor attraction list (Association of Leading Visitor Attractions, 2017b). In contrast, older libraries maintain their standing in the list, such as the British Library in 20th place, and the Bodleian in 60th (Association of Leading Visitor Attractions, 2017b), perhaps suggesting they are more resilient to external forces. It could be that their tourist offering is more established, allowing tourist visitation to support the library in times of need. The British Library boasts both a physical and an online shop selling a variety of souvenirs, including some that tie in to current exhibitions the tourist may have visited; in contrast, the Library of Birmingham only has an on-site shop – and people can’t visit or spend at an attraction that is not open.

Fig. 10.1.  The Library of Birmingham. (Photo courtesy of Peter Broster – Birmingham Library, published under a CC BY 2.0 license via Wikimedia Commons).

of architectural icons ... an increasingly popular phenomenon’ (Konrad, 2010). Many destinations have inherited their architectural library icons (think, for example, of the Bodleian in Oxford or New York Public Library), but icons can be created, and modern architecture can be just as much a tourist draw as historical sites. One of these, the Library of Birmingham, is explored further in Box 10.1. It is not just the external benefits of libraries that can drive tourism, however. One easier way to promote visitation to a destination (given creation of architectural

landmarks requires extensive investment) is to exploit their insides, promoting the events, exhibitions and artefacts that they house, or simply their space. As argued in Oriade and Cameron (2018), diversification of service allows a space to earn more money, but also makes them ‘more accessible and open to people who would not have visited ... [it makes cathedrals] more popular and enhances visitor numbers and repeat business’. The same can be true of a library, opening the space to new opportunities and new patrons. This income in turn supports community-based services

Library Tourism

and in extreme cases can simply ‘keep the lights on’.

Spaces of cultural enrichment: events, exhibitions and artefacts One motivation for travel is to increase ‘personal cultural capital’ through uncertified education (Busby and Meethan, 2008), and as Tosic and Lazarevic (2010, p. 107) state, ‘libraries, as cultural institutions, may contribute significantly to the development of cultural tourism’. Some of the key impacts visitors look for from heritage and culture while on holiday are to feel moved, inspired and intellectually nourished (VisitBritain, 2014). Libraries host events and exhibitions which can be both a reason for tourist visits and a boon to the local community. Library-hosted events come in many forms. While book clubs and story time are common, some events are also aimed at adult education. These events provide a real benefit to the local community, improving practical skills that can be used to expand opportunities or improve community integration. As an added bonus, often these types of class are free, or run in a ‘nonprofit’ manner. Cultural events, however, can result more easily in increased tourist numbers. Many libraries hold lectures, such as those given by Bodley Medal award winners at the Bodleian (past winners have included Stephen Hawking, Alan Bennett and Mary Beard, as well as more traditionally associated ‘library’ folk, such as novelists Hilary Mantel and Ian McEwan) (Bodleian Libraries, 2016b). People will travel to hear celebrities speak, so events such as these can help boost domestic tourism. On a smaller scale, local experts can be invited to give talks on topics such as local history, science or the environment, and help entice local people into a library. Libraries can also rent out their space to others, such as theatre companies, and become a central destination for cultural entertainment in their area while boosting revenue. Events help increase regular library usage by welcoming into the space people who might not visit a library for a traditional purpose. In addition, libraries are home to precious artefacts – usually books – which can encourage

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locals and tourists to visit. The Bodleian Library hosts a regular series of rare-item exhibitions called ‘Bodleian Treasures’ at its Weston Library site; previous exhibitions have included Tolkien’s illustrations from the Hobbit and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (Bodleian Libraries, 2017). Reopening in March 2015, the Weston Library site recorded 770,000 visitors in its first year – more than double the expected numbers, according to librarian Richard Ovenden. It is suggested that these reflect a combination of research users, local people and tourists (BBC News, 2016). Exhibitions do not necessarily have to be of rare artefacts, however. A town library could still place itself as a tourist attraction by hosting exhibitions of local history or artwork. Many tourist organizations choose the slogan ‘discover the real...’ (​ therealbalitours.​ com, ​irish-​tourist.​com, ​discoverthereal-​jamaica.​ com, to name just a few) and there is no reason for this not to work on a smaller scale. People respond to stories, with local stories and artefacts often of interest to a visitor. Skift (2016) suggests that millennials especially are increasingly likely to want local experiences, with campaigns such as the Los Angeles Tourism Bureau’s ‘Get Lost in LA’ now marketing neighbourhood experiences such as local food and street views over the traditional sights to this market segment. And where better to tell a local story than at a local library?

The Library as a Safe Space Books are commonly associated with introverts, a personality definition describing individuals who expend energy in stimulating situations (as opposed to an extrovert, who derives energy in these circumstances). One study (Matz et  al., 2016) measured the link between happiness and personality type through the dispersal of vouchers. Bookshop vouchers were designated ‘introverted’ while vouchers for a bar were ‘extroverted’. Matz et al. found that happiness levels in the participants were increased when their own personality traits (introversion or extroversion) matched the voucher type they were given; an introvert could improve their happiness levels by spending money on (or perhaps just spending time with) books. How does this relate to the touristic visitation of libraries? Holidays can be overwhelming

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for an introverted mind, especially those that take place in cities, where library visitation naturally tends to be most common. Cities are busy and noisy, resulting in a lot of external stimulation, which can be both distracting and tiring for the introverted tourist. At the same time, the tourist is required to complete tasks that need concentration, such as navigating an unfamiliar environment, translating a foreign language and perhaps interacting with people for a greater period than in their normal life. For introverts, concentration suffers in a noisy environment (Belojevic et  al., 2001), meaning respite may be more necessary than ever. It may be beneficial, therefore, for certain tourists to seek sanctuary in a place such as a library. Libraries are the ultimate quiet space, perhaps rivalled only by visiting a church, and yet their structure and purpose is necessarily more directed towards figuring out where you are on a map! Small talk (tiring and unnecessary for many introverts) is discouraged, while uninterrupted thought is promoted. Libraries therefore form a safe space for visitors among the bustle of an unfamiliar destination. In addition to the psychological benefits for many tourists, libraries form a physically ‘safe space’ for the body. They are less busy than the streets outside, allowing increased personal space, which can help tourists feel safe. They also provide information for the curious or confused – not only books, but also leaflets about the local area, maps and the librarians themselves. Similarly, open public spaces such as libraries also take care of our day-to-day needs. They provide a source of warmth, light, seating and toilet facilities for those who may not know where else to find them. In his autobiographical work Down and Out in Paris and London, Orwell (1933) noted how he went into a public library and suggested that a friend should also ‘come in and rest his legs’. As a democratically open space, libraries provide these services for all aspects of society. Nowadays, libraries can make further use of layout to encourage casual and tourist visitors. Automatic doors literally remove the barrier, inviting people into the space, while casual seating areas, cafés and leaflets encourage browsing, reducing the potential awkwardness a non-local might feel entering a community space.

Libraries can specifically promote their service as a ‘safe space’, although, anecdotally, few seem to do so. As introversion becomes more accepted and recognized, this is one tactic that librarians could easily use to increase visitation. Other businesses, such as the supermarket Asda, are already recognizing both the need and ‘goodwill’ business benefit to this, promoting themselves as safe spaces with quiet hours for shoppers with autism (Reilly, 2016). A library already complies with these needs; disseminating the message is all that’s required.

The Library as a Place of Change

It is also important to briefly consider the library as a place of change, and how this can be a benefit to the tourist visitor. It is easy to see examples of change within literature itself. Matilda, Roald Dahl’s enduring character, finds hope in books; in an environment in which she finds herself entirely unchallenged, they help her to develop and to escape: ‘The books... introduced her to amazing ​people...​s​he travelled all over the world while sitting in her little room in an English village’ (Dahl, 1988, p. 15). The connection between books and personal growth is long-held and reiterated – that reading increases intelligence, empathy and critical thinking abounds in journalism. This may have developed from the use of books as shorthand for intelligence; as far back as the Renaissance, ‘the image of a book was one of the most powerful visual signs … (it) displaced the rotullus as the symbol of authority … The book was the symbol of learning’ (McGrath, 2012). It is still a recurring theme today that intelligent characters – Matilda and Hermione Granger are just a couple of examples – are portrayed as such through the presence of a book at their side. Travelling is often seen as a journey of personal growth (Stone and Petrick, 2013; Alexander et  al., 2010), so it follows libraries and travellers have a natural connection, that a proportion of touristic visitors to library buildings are looking to absorb knowledge beyond the practical considerations of being in an unfamiliar place. They may look to return home wiser, both through the books but also by existing in

Library Tourism

the space itself. Many a reader has felt a certain secular spirituality when surrounded by books – it is suggested Mark Twain stated (although the source is lost!), ‘In a good bookroom you feel in some mysterious way that you are absorbing the wisdom contained in all the books through your skin, without even opening them.’ Libraries should promote themselves as places of change. They can call to the young with big dreams, and play on adults’ continued quest for self-improvement to drive visitation. They have many famous spokespeople to call on, such as Neil Gaiman, who once said: Fiction can show you a different world … Once you’ve visited other worlds, like those who ate fairy fruit, you can never be entirely content with the world that you grew up in. Discontent is a good thing: discontented people can modify and improve their worlds, leave them better, leave them different. (Gaiman, 2013)

Displaced from the bustle of their everyday lives, tourists should be easier to entice than locals. They have the time and are expecting to experience new things. Furthermore, studies have shown that adding an educational aspect can enhance the tourist experience (Apps et al., 2017). Incorporating libraries into a tourism development plan can therefore help drive visitor satisfaction, increasing repeat visitation and supporting library services for locals.

The Library and the Host Community The economic benefits of tourism are well known and an important aspect to consider when promoting a library as a tourist attraction, but libraries are first and foremost for the local people. It is necessary, therefore, to reflect on their wider potential benefits for the local community. There are many ‘soft’ benefits that improve quality of life, such as literacy improvement, enhancement of cultural awareness and outreach services (Duncan, 2008). As Duncan mentions, however, it is difficult to ‘identify and quantify those indirect benefits obtained by the community’, which is perhaps why there has been little research in this field. There is no shortage, however, of opinion pieces extolling the importance of libraries within a community. Neil Gaiman, in the same speech as above, touched on many

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of the benefits in a lecture he delivered for the Reading Agency. He argued libraries are ‘…about education... about entertainment, about making safe spaces, and about access to information... a library is a place that is a repository of information and gives every citizen equal access to it.... Libraries really are the gates to the future... If you do not value libraries then you do not value information or culture or wisdom’. (Gaiman, 2013)

Visiting a library as a tourist can help to protect it for use by local people, by increasing visitor numbers and usage statistics. Monetary support, in the form of a donation, a drink in the café or perhaps a souvenir purchase, also helps to preserve its presence. A library that can encourage visitation to such a degree as to benefit the local area may also in turn be able to benefit from local funding, as the Weston site of the Bodleian Library did in 2015.

Libraries Online: Social Media and the Internet Libraries are not replaced by the Internet; instead, they can go hand in hand with the digital world. Providing access to new services such as eBooks, computers and digital printing is just the tip of the iceberg. The traditional insult ‘geek’ has been reclaimed through the Internet and turned into a positive identifier, perhaps in part due to the mainstreaming of traditional geek culture such as blockbuster comic book films. Computers and the Internet have long been seen as the domain of the geek, but the Internet and its use has grown hugely in recent years, with young people almost tripling their online use between 2005 and 2015. Time spent on the Internet increased from 10 hours and 24 min per week to 27 hours and 36 min (Anderson, 2015), so much so that it is now reasonable to assume that a teenager not connected is the one labelled ‘uncool’. It is arguable then that libraries – another traditional ‘geek’ space – could also find themselves benefiting from this resurgence of geek culture. By early 2017, there were 966 million different websites (​ vpnMentor.​ com, 2017). With such a large offering on the table, anyone’s taste can be catered for, and social media allows fans to

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connect. But how does this relate to library tourism? Despite the electronic format of this data, the Internet and social media have allowed book lovers to meet like-minded people and celebrate their enthusiasms (Busby, 2018). Even though time spent online is time spent away from reading, bibliophiles gather to discuss books, share bookish quotes and pictures, and generally advertise their interest. Libraries can use social media to get involved with these bookish networks and drive visitation without costly expenditure. In this aim, they do not need to reinvent the wheel; much research has been conducted on museums that can be easily translated.

Twitter and Facebook Twitter is one of the more mainstream social media sites and is full of readers and writers. It had 336 million active users at the beginning of 2018 (Statista, 2018), creating a vast audience for any content a library wishes to promote. Through hash-tag searches, new content can reach the top of the results and anyone can read a tweet, allowing a message to reach a global audience. Individual institutions can build followers and reach thousands of people. As of April 2019:

• • •

New York Public Library (@nypl) had 2.5 million followers Bodleian Libraries (@bodleianlibs) had 72,000 followers The State Library of Victoria, Melbourne (@Library_Vic) had 32,000 followers

Even a standard town library can generate a loyal following; Guildford Library (@GuildfordLib), for example, had over 3000 followers in April 2019. Visibility helps drive visitation, as found by Bantimaroudis et al. (2010) in their study of Greek museum media visibility. It follows, therefore, that a social media presence can drive visitation to libraries, particularly if the content created is engaging and shareable. Museum-based social media use tends to be one-way, such as notifications of events, but there is a realization of the need to increase and improve multi-way communication (Fletcher and Lee, 2012). More recently, it has been revealed that museums

(and therefore other cultural institutions) need to get involved in users’ communications (Camarero et al., 2018). A recent example of this working well was the Museum of English Rural Life, which tweeted a picture of a sheep with the caption ‘look at this absolute unit’. A follow-up tweet gave more traditional museum information, but by keeping the original snappy and in the vernacular, following a popular meme format, the museum went viral. To date, the tweet has over 111,000 likes and 31,000 retweets, and the museum’s follower count increased by over 7000 people. The author of the tweet, Adam Koszary (Digital Lead for The Museum of English Rural Life and Reading Museum), revealed the secret in a follow-up article: I talked to people. I encouraged puns, I played deadpan, I sassed a little bit and I got a bit creative ... The result is that the tweets got collected into a Moment by Twitter and broadcast to the world … Since then we’ve been retweeting, engaging and following up … museums often struggle with the tension of trying to engage people while remaining respectable. But social media has pushed the envelope of what people consider respectable, to the point where I think people almost expect a few memes. The tone and language we used in the wake of our absolute unit tweet was simply the same as how people talk on Twitter anyway. (Koszary, 2018)

As content must be short, Twitter is one of the easier platforms for new social media users, and requires much less upkeep than maintaining a website. It could therefore encourage librarians to put their library on the digital map. Facebook, meanwhile, is primarily a network of friends, although it also allows users to follow subjects or businesses of interest. Most usually used while travelling to keep in touch and post updates, it can help mitigate loneliness, as Deters and Mehl (2012) show in their study. Travel separates a person from their social networks, but posting status updates can reduce loneliness by connecting a person with their friends – and just the act of posting, rather than necessarily the interaction that results from this, has the benefit. A library could take advantage of this phenomenon by creating innovative, ‘shareable’ content, thereby increasing their visibility through visitor snapshots. Real-time interactivity also allows engagement

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Fig. 10.2.  Innovative display designs can encourage visitors to share images of your library across social media, improving visibility and driving further visitation. (With permission from Montgomery County Public Libraries.)

with other local businesses and services, which can drive promotion in the non-digital world through closer community ties.

Pinterest and Instagram Pinterest and Instagram are image sites. As mentioned previously, quirky content is the easiest to encourage people to share. A simple set-up such as Fig. 10.2, for example, requires a little creative thought but next to nothing in terms of resources. Yet, the photo can be posted by the library across social media sites and go on to be shared globally. Pinterest is a digital pin board on which to save ideas and images, which works well with the romantic view of books, and with the often striking library architecture mentioned previously. A quick search of ‘library’, for example, reveals countless images of wooden shelves, twisting staircases and ornate roofs. Readers can explore ‘Britain’s most incredible libraries’, ‘cool bookish places’ and, tellingly, ‘16 libraries you have to see before you die’.

Not only are these adverts for the libraries, but the beautifully shot photographs cause these spaces to become objects of desire in themselves. More than just a room of books, it creates a ‘must-see’ feeling in the viewer, which can encourage readers of these lists to visit when in the vicinity (Box 10.2).

Going it alone Larger libraries may wish to go further with their Internet strategy than just social media, creating professional media that can be used to explicitly encourage tourists. Those such as the New York Public Library have already filmed videos to this aim, matching camerawork to voiceover detailing the attractions, such as ‘elaborate statuary, Corinthian columns, monumental arches, carved keystones and intricately moulded bronze doors’ (NYLandmarks, 2017). It is now also possible for people to partake in tourism purely online, through virtual reality tours; while these currently exist more at a city

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Box 10.2.  Strahov Library. A Pinterest search for Strahov Library (Fig. 10.3) reveals countless images of ornate, bookish grandeur, saved by pinners to lists such as ‘places to visit’ and ‘places we’d rather be’. For 120 Czech koruna (equivalent to just under £4 or $5), visitors can view the decoration for themselves, with this entry charge keeping the library funded. Monetization of their services is one major difficulty for most libraries, however; local patrons (and indeed visitors) may expect library services to be free, but it is difficult to separate these from the architectural or decorative beauty. Historical libraries such as the Strahov can charge entry, but this is not easy for a library which balances tourist visits with local citizen use. Entry card systems may be the answer, but can be expensive to implement and risk alienating local use if they make access difficult or slow. A better option may be to ticket certain rooms, particularly if these are not the main areas of use. In the Strahov Library, the most ornate rooms are off the main corridor; a library with a similar layout could keep the main services and building free, but close access to architectural points of interest (much as they may charge to view an exhibition of rare texts, or artworks) and charge entry to view.

Fig. 10.3.  Strahov library, Czech Republic.

Library Tourism

or super-attraction level, this will be more within reach of individual attractions as the technology becomes cheaper.

Conclusion Library tourism is undoubtedly niche tourism, but is growing. Articles claim it to be ‘the next big travel trend’ (Morrison, 2017), citing many of the aspects discussed (architecture, community support and social equitability) as reasons to visit and support these institutions. Those who actively seek library tourism are still in the minority, but it is without doubt worth preserving these buildings for their community benefits and the added value of tourist visitation they can provide for their destination. It is clear that buildings, both old and new, can attract architecture tourists; events and

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exhibitions can attract cultural tourists; and libraries can provide a safe haven. By promoting their space, holdings and events through judicious use of social media, librarians have a cost-effective away of driving local and tourist visitation. Increasing tourist visitation specifically is not only a way to increase the money coming in – through event ticket sales and souvenir purchase – but also a vital way of proving further usage, and thereby helping to secure government funding. In turn, this allows libraries to remain, providing entertainment and essential services for their community, but also for the traveller passing through. This chapter has been intended as an introduction to the area, but further research is needed in order to truly establish motivations among library tourists and translate this into practical applications, as well as to promote further the activity itself. For now, I will leave you with Fig. 10.4.

Fig. 10.4.  Library tourism. It’s a thing! Used with permission from @ShetlandLibrary and @margaretm.

References Agarwal, S., Busby, G. and Huang, R. (2018) Conclusion. In: Busby, G., Huang,R. and Agarwal, S. (eds) Special Interest Tourism. CAB International, Wallingford, UK. Alexander, Z., Bakir, A. and Wickens, E. (2010) An investigation into the impact of vacation travel on the tourist. International Journal of Tourism Research 34(5), 574–590. DOI: 10.1002/jtr.777. Ali, R. (2013) The $85 million tourism machine called the Empire State Building. Available at: https://​skift.​ com/​2013/​01/​01/​the-​tourism-​machine-​of-​empire-​state-​building/ (accessed 12 March 2017). Anderson, E. (2015) Teenagers spend 27 hours a week online: How internet use has ballooned in the last decade. Available at: http://www.​telegraph.​co.​uk/​finance/​newsbysector/​medi​atec​hnol​ogya​ndte​ lecoms/​digital-​media/​11597743/​Teenagers-​spend-​27-​hours-​a-​week-​online-​how-​internet-​use-​has-​ ballooned-​in-​the-​last-​decade.​html (accessed 2 April 2017). Apps, K., Dimmock, K., Lloyd, D.J. and Huveneers, C. (2017) Is there a place for education and interpretation in shark-based tourism? Tourism Recreation Research 42(3), 327–343. DOI: 10.1080/02508281.2017.1293208.

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Association of Leading Visitor Attractions (2017a) Visits made in 2015 to visitor attractions in membership with ALVA. Available at: http://www.​alva.​org.​uk/​details.​cfm?​p=​606 (accessed 25 June 2017). Association of Leading Visitor Attractions (2017b) Visits made in 2016 to visitor attractions in membership with ALVA. Available at: http://www.​alva.​org.​uk/​details.​cfm?​p=​607 (accessed 17 September 2018). Bantimaroudis, P., Zyglidopoulos, S. and Symeou, P.C. (2010) Greek museum media visibility and museum visitation: An exploration of cultural agenda setting. Journal of Communication 60(4), 743–757. DOI: 10.1111/j.1460-2466.2010.01512.x. BBC News (2016) Weston library gets 770,000 visitors in first year. Available at: http://www.​bbc.​co.​uk/​ news/​uk-​england-​oxfordshire-​35870656 (accessed 12 June 2017). Belojevic, G., Slepcevic, V. and Jakovljevic, B. (2001) Mental performance in noise: The role of introversion. Journal of Environmental Psychology 21(2), 209–213. DOI: 10.1006/jevp.2000.0188. Birmingham Post (2013) Iconic facade of new library of Birmingham lifted into place. Available at: https:// www.​birminghampost.​co.​uk/​news/​local-​news/​iconic-​facade-​new-​library-​birmingham-​3918784 (accessed 28/02/2019). Bodleian Libraries (2016) History of the Bodleian. Available at: http://www.​bodleian.​ox.​ac.​uk/​bodley/​ about-​us/​history (accessed 11 March 2017). Bodleian Libraries (2016b) Classicist Mary Beard to be awarded Bodley medal. Available at: http://www.​ bodleian.​ox.​ac.​uk/​news/​2016/​mar-​01 (accessed 12 June 2017). Bodleian Libraries (2017) Bodleian treasures: 21 pairs and a tropical forest. Available at: http://www.​ bodleian.​ox.​ac.​uk/​whatson/​whats-​on/​upcoming-​events/​2017/​mar/​treasures (accessed 12 June 2017). Busby, G. and Meethan, K. (2008) Cultural capital in Cornwall: heritage and the visitor. In: Payton,P. (ed.) Cornish Studies, Vol. 16. University of Press, Exeter, pp. 146–166. DOI: 10.1386/corn.16.1.146_1. Busby, G. (2018) Literary tourism. In: Agarwal, S., Busby, G. and Huang,R. (eds) Special Interest Tourism. CAB International, Wallingford, UK. Camarero, C., Garrido, M.-J. and San Jose, R. (2018) What works in Facebook content versus relational communication: A study of their effectiveness in the context of museums. International Journal of Human–Computer Interaction 34(12), 1119–1134. DOI: 10.1080/10447318.2017.1418475. Dahl, R. (1988) Matilda. Jonathan Cape, London, UK. Deters, F. and Mehl, M.R. (2012) Does posting Facebook status updates increase or decrease loneliness? An online social networking experiment. Social Psychological and Personality Science 4(5), 579–586. DOI: 10.1177/1948550612469233. Duncan, R. (2008) Best bang for the buck: The economic benefits of Sunshine Coast libraries Queensland. Australasian Public Libraries and Information Services. Available at: https://www.​thefreelibrary.​com/​ Best%​20bang%​20for%​20the%​20buck:%​20the%​20economic%​20benefits%​20of%​20Sunshine%​ 20Coast.-​a0190747225 (accessed 11 May 2017). Evening Standard (2014) Shard rakes in £5million from visitors to viewing platform in first year. Available at: http://www.​standard.​co.​uk/​news/​london/​shard-​rakes-​in-​5million-​from-​visitors-​to-​viewing-​platform-​in-​first-​year-​9206970.​html (accessed 12 March 2017). Fletcher, A. and Lee, M.J. (2012) Current social media uses and evaluations in American museums. Museum Management and Curatorship 27(5), 505–521. DOI: 10.1080/09647775.2012.738136. Gaiman, N. (2013) Why our future depends on libraries, reading and daydreaming. Available at: https:// www.​theguardian.​com/​books/​2013/​oct/​15/​neil-​gaiman-​future-​libraries-​reading-​daydreaming (accessed 25 June 2017). Goeldner, C.R. and Ritchie, J.R.B. (2009) Tourism: Principles, Practices and Philosophies. Wiley, Oxford, UK. Gulf News (2014) More than 1.87m people visited at the top, Burj Khalifa in 2013. Available at: http://​ gulfnews.​com/​business/​sectors/​tourism/​more-​than-​1.​87m-​people-​visited-​at-​the-​top-​burj-​khalifa-​ in-​2013-​1.​1285874 (accessed 12 March 2017). Jenkins, S. (2007) Oxford history: Mayors and Lord Mayors: Coat of arms of the city of Oxford. Available at: http://www.​oxfordhistory.​org.​uk/​mayors/​town_​hall/​crest.​html (accessed 10 March 2017). Konrad, D. (2010) Collecting the icon or: semiotics of tourism. In: Richter, J. (ed.) The Tourist City Berlin: Tourism and Architecture. Braun Publishing, Switzerland, pp. 227–235. Koszary, A. (2018) Look at this absolute unit. Available at: https://​medium.​com/@​adamkoszary/​look-​at-​ this-​absolute-​unit-​763207207917 (accessed 8 June 2018). La Tour Eiffel (2017) The Eiffel tower at a glance. Available at: https://www.​toureiffel.​paris/​en/​the-​monument/​key-​figures (accessed 12 March 2017).

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MacLennan, B. (2007) The library and its place in cultural memory: Reflections of the Grande Bibliothèque du Québec and other significant libraries in the construction of social and cultural identity. Graduate College Dissertations and Theses. Paper 142. University of Vermont, USA. Matz, S.C., Gladstone, J.J. and Stillwell, D. (2016) Money buys happiness when spending fits our personality. Psychological Science 27(5), 715–725. DOI: 10.1177/0956797616635200. McGrath, A.C.O. (2012) Books in art: The meaning and significance of images of books in Italian religious painting 1250–1400. PhD thesis. University of Sussex, UK. Morrison, F. (2017) Library tourism could be the next big travel trend. Available at: http://www.​huffingtonpost.​com.​au/​fleur-​morrison/​library-​tourism-​could-​be-​the-​next-​big-​travel-​trend_​a_​22491123/ (accessed 26 June 2017). Negut, S. and Neacșu, M.C. (2013) Tourism, expression of freedom in the global era. International Journal for Responsible Tourism 2(3), 45–53. NYLandmarks (2017) Tourist in Your Own Town #47 – New York Public Library – Main Branch (video). Available at: https://www.​youtube.​com/​watch?​v=​3gw6S0k9XKs (accessed 8 June 2018). Oriade, A. and Cameron, H. (2018) Cathedral tourism. In: Agarwal, S., Busby, G. and Huang,R. (eds) Special Interest Tourism. CAB International, Wallingford, UK. Orwell, G. (1933) Down and Out in Paris and London. Victor Gollancz, London. Reilly, N. (2016) Asda set to introduce ‘quiet hour’ to help customers with autism. Available at: http://​metro.​co.​uk/​2016/​04/​24/​asda-​set-​to-​introduce-​quiet-​hour-​to-​help-​customers-​with-​autism-​5838632/ (accessed 27 June 2017). Skift (2016) Skift CMO interviews: Los Angeles tourism CMO on connecting with Millennials. Available at: https://​skift.​com/​2016/​04/​05/​skift-​cmo-​interviews-​los-​angeles-​tourism-​cmo-​on-​connecting-​with-​ millennials/ (accessed 8 June 2018). Statista (2018) Number of monthly active Twitter users worldwide from 1st quarter 2010 to 1st quarter 2018 (in millions). Available at: https://www.​statista.​com/​statistics/​282087/​number-​of-​monthly-​active-​twitter-​users/ (accessed 8 June 2018). Stone, M.J. and Petrick, J.F. (2013) The educational benefits of travel experiences: A literature review. Journal of Travel Research 52(6), 731–744. DOI: 10.1177/0047287513500588. Tosic, V. and Lazarevic, S. (2010) The role of libraries in the development of cultural tourism with special emphasis to the Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Egypt. UTMS Journal of Economics 1(2), 107–114. Urry, J. (2002) The Tourist Gaze. Sage Publications, London, UK. VisitBritain (2014) Inbound culture, heritage & attractions research. Available at: https://www.​visitbritain.​ org/​inbound-​culture-​heritage-​attractions-​research (accessed 8 June 2018). VisitBritain (2016) Activities undertaken in Britain. Available at: https://www.​visitbritain.​org/​activities-​undertaken-​britain (accessed 8 June 2018). ​vpnMentor.​com (2017) Internet trends 2017: Stats and facts in the US and worldwide. Available at: https:// www.​vpnmentor.​com/​blog/​vital-​internet-​trends/ (accessed 2 April 2017).

Part 3: Case Studies of Literary Tourism and their Effects on the Tourist Ian Jenkins and Katrín Anna Lund

Case studies, although not representative of the entirety of literary tourism, are very important for understanding certain aspects of literary tourism dynamics. They are able to bring theory into practice and identify the tangible facets of this niche tourism product and their effects on the tourist. Cases are the reality of what are, in essence, imaginative phenomena. They illustrate the practice and management of developing literary tourism at destinations or other spatial locations, including tourist trails and routes. They are what tourism strategists and practitioners seek to discover, hint to what is possible and identify the challenges that these literary products have faced and overcome. Cases, although specific, can also identify trends and future demands and have the ability to generate hypotheses and specify product development and markets that need further research and investigation. It is hoped that these case studies will provide a practical guide for good practice and also the challenges and opportunities for tourism destinations. Case studies are not to be seen in isolation but should be linked to other chapters in the book. Making the ideal real is perhaps the essence of case studies, illustrating the effect of literature on the tourist and the literary destination. In many respects the locale’s community and destination is critical to the success of 118

developing a literary product that will be sustainable and benefit all agents of tourism at that location. However, often the social and cultural aspects of the community are secondary to that of the primary aim, which is to generate income and ensure profits remain in circulation at the destination. Good intentions can eventually be surpassed by success of the product, to the extent that tourism actors and companies may lose sight of their roots, or at least become unaware of the dislocation between the literary product and the social fabric of the locale. This is just one of the themes explored in the case study section. There are also other ethical challenges to literary tourism, such as the principles of paying an author to produce a story based on finding love at a destination. To what extent is this a forced or unnatural expression of writing about destinations? However, some destinations have love/sexual images which attract tourists, such as Paris, Amsterdam, Rome and Bangkok. Yet paying an author to find love and write about it as an assignment seems plastic and clearly a hyper reality experiment. Controversial yes, but creating a polemic that is perhaps the aim of this type of literary project. Urry’s The Tourist Gaze was a seminal treatise that shifted the perspective of the tourism industry and what it really means for today’s tourism. It illuminated a different perspective

Part 3

on how tourists interact and how tourists gaze at destinations. This theme is also explored in the case studies section in terms of what an author can do to transform a destination’s tourist space, using the context of human movement which makes spaces meaningful. It is reflective of a famous play ‘The Hour We Knew Nothing of Each Other’, by Peter Handke, which brings to life a townscape simply using movement instead of words. Perhaps, then, performing tourists are just as important as any actors at a destination.

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Heterogeneous movements change the dynamics of a given space and, hence, possibly the destination’s image. A gaze is about images, which can be constructed by words, creating further images that are silent. This engenders a sense of place to be embodied through the tourist performance rather than merely just seeing. These are just some of the themes in the case study section of the book. We hope it will provide you with some new ideas and dynamism to further explore the niche of literary tourism.

11 

The Hay Festival: A Longitudinal Study on its Attributes and the Sustainable Impacts on a Small Welsh Town

Ian Jenkins* Faculty of Life and Environmental Sciences, University of Iceland, Reykjavík, Iceland

Introduction Over the last 50 years literary festivals have grown exponentially and can now be regarded as important characteristics in any destination’s tourist palette. Some are simply add-on events that supplement an already important tourist product, whereas others are key tourist goods that significantly affect a town’s or village’s locale. The case of the Hay Festival seems to be that of the latter. It is now in its 31st year (as of 2018) and is an extremely important UK literary festival for both the Welsh and UK events programme. The author’s interest in literary festivals developed from prior research evaluating niche tourism products using the literary festival as an exemplar. The 1990s and noughties capitalized on the idea of niche tourism and many tourist boards formulated strategies with this type of product in mind. However, by the middle noughties the concept seemed to have waned, eventually being replaced by other strategic elements. The aim of this chapter is to review the changes that have taken place during the lifetime of the Hay Festival and ascertain what effects it has had on the town of Hay-on-Wye.

Earlier research in 2003 (Jenkins, 2007) provided a historical framework for comparing newly collected data at the Festival. This chapter attempts to clarify some of the significant changes that have occurred, seeking to identify any associated impacts as well as proposing actions to ameliorate any negative effects.

Hay as a Tourist Destination The Hay Festival is located in the small town of Hay-on-Wye, close to the border between England and Wales (Welcome to Hay-on-Wye, 2018). The town has a population of some 1500 people and can be regarded as a diminutive urban location lying approximately midway between Brecon and Hereford (Welcome to Hay-on-Wye, 2018). It is positioned some distance from any major cities or towns of the UK, giving the destination image of Hay a rural perspective with concomitantly poor public transport links. Tourism in and around Hay is dominated by outdoor recreation and activities (PCC, 2005; VisitWales, 2018b), encouraged by close proximity to the Brecon Beacons National Park.

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Its primary cultural capital is the proliferation of secondhand bookshops (Jenkins, 2007) which at one time totalled 39, a somewhat unique status within the UK. It is this superstructure that gives gravitas to the Hay Literature Festival and creates its tourist destination image (Seaton, 1996). The emergence of Hay-on-Wye as a book town dates back to 1961 when Richard Booth pioneered this new form of economic development (Seaton, 1996). It is also asserted that the prominence of bookshops as well as the Hay Festival itself possibly gives this destination a competitive advantage over other similar rural towns within the area (Consultant 1, 2018). Seaton would agree with this, noting that Hay-on-Wye was the first worldwide destination to be known as a ‘book town’ (Seaton, 1996). Similar book towns have now been established in Redu (Belgium), Bécherel (Brittany), Montoulieu (southern France) (Seaton, 1996) and many other places. Indeed, there is now a society for book towns with some 20 plus located around the world and Richard Booth is still an important actor in their creation (Book Towns, 2018). In 1995 it was estimated that Hay-onWye received 1,000,000 visitors each year, most allegedly related to book tourism (Seaton, 1996). Hay-on-Wye is under the governance of Powys County Council (PCC, 2018) and in terms of tourism development was supported by the Tourism Partnership Mid Wales (TPMW), which controlled policies affecting Hay-on-Wye. This organization was disbanded in 2014 and superseded by the Mid Wales Tourism Forum (MWTF), established in 2015. The tourism theme for the area, including Hay-on-Wye, is that of ‘Naturally Different’, reflecting the rurality of Mid Wales. Although the Hay Festival was not mentioned directly within the tourism strategies of PCC and TPMW or MWTF, festivals and events are recognized as important segments for Wales and also Mid Wales (TPMW, 2005). They are identified under the section ‘Culture and Cultural Heritage’ and events are documented as being an important product for the region (TPMW, 2005), including the Hay Festival (NGO 1, 2008). Ongoing public-sector financial support for events at all levels is declining and the need for a more sustainable approach has been recognized. TPMW ‘regionally [led] on developing a more comprehensive approach to event

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support’ (TPMW, 2005, p. 13). The Welsh Government also recognizes the importance of events and festivals in their Tourism Strategy (TWG, 2013) , identifying ‘short stay’ visitors as being important. This is particularly relevant to the Hay Festival, as tourists to the Festival stay for only a few days (Hay Festival 1, 2018). VisitWales also recognizes the Hay Festival as important to the Welsh economy and has specific information on the Festival on its website (VisitWales, 2018a). The previous TPMW strategy identified specific key tourism concepts, such as authenticity, distinctiveness and sustainability. Seaton (1996) acknowledges that ‘book-tourism’, as offered by Hay-on-Wye, is clearly in keeping with the notion of sustainability, inferring that the Hay Festival may be a part of this product. Both Powys County Council and the Tourism Partnership Mid Wales note the importance of tourism to this region as there are few other economic sectors that are successful within the area (PCC, 2005; TPMW, 2005; Cox, 2016). Clearly, the Hay Festival is firmly part of both the County Council and Regional Tourism Partnership’s aim to encourage tourism to the area (Cox, 2016). Although not specifically identified, it could be considered an important part of culture and events strategy (TPMW, 2005). The Hay Literature Festival started in 1988 as a ‘brand extension’ of ‘the town’s unique destination image of a “book town”’ (see Fig.  11.1) (Seaton, 1996, p. 280). Since then it has become one of the most successful literary festivals, rivalling that of Edinburgh and claiming to be of ‘international’ importance (Florence, interviewed 2002; Seaton, 1996). The pre-eminence of the Hay Festival can be validated by the number of events that have attracted important celebrities, for example the visit of ex-US president Bill Clinton (Jones, 2005). In 2005 stars such as Goldie Hawn, Jane Fonda and ‘one of Hollywood’s most influential film-makers’ Spike Lee (Jones, 2005, p. 6; Ezard, 2005) were guests at the Festival. Since this time there have been fewer celebrities, although they still have a role within the Festival’s fabric. It could be suggested that the success of the Hay Festival is contingent on attracting top celebrities, more so than its focus on literature,

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Fig. 11.1.  Typical bookshop in Hay-on-Wye.

even though the initial ‘tourist product’ for the Festival was clearly based on the USP (unique selling proposition) of a book town. However, shops sell books so the commodification of a book festival is simply an extension of the ‘culture capital’ already found in Hay-on-Wye. Certainly, the ‘cultural capital’ of the Hay Festival can be considered to have a high propensity towards ‘high art’ products. This image is supported by some of the Festival sponsors (arts and culture). Previous programmes of the Festival identified a number of important private companies, and sponsors have included The Guardian (newspaper) as a ‘title sponsor’, signifying a tourist market of readers from a higher socioeconomic class (TGHF, 2005; Negrine, 1994). Past sponsorship has been divided up into specific commercial areas, with Orange (the telecommunications company) as the ‘communication partner’ and Channel 4 as the ‘broadcast partner’ (TGHF, 2005). In 2018 the programme exhibited similar support from private companies and the media. As the Festival has grown in attendance, so has the number of sponsors: in 2003 there were only 15, by 2005 there were 31 UK national or international organizations and in 2018 there were 100 plus (The Hay Festival, 2018b). This illustrates the growing importance and commercialization of the Festival and

is also evidence of the prominence of the Hay Festival as a tourist product, with funding agencies including the Welsh Development Agency, VisitWales and Powys County Council also being prominent sponsors. Many festivals like to claim international status. Hay is no exception, although in 2018 this was downplayed. However, the legacy of the past identifies an international aspect. Sponsors such as the Anglo-Israel Association, Canada House and the Israeli Embassy (TGHF, 2005) were present in 2005, whereas now Acción Cultural España and the Africa-American Institute support the Festival, seemingly reflecting a more international perspective. In spite of this, only 3% of visitors (Jenkins, 2007) were international in 2003 and by 2018 this had risen only slightly to 5% (Hay Festival 1, 2018). Sponsors and sponsorship have changed from year to year. None the less the elements of tourism and prominent commercial companies seem to be suffused throughout the Festival, with each event sponsored by a commercial company. There are ‘main’ sponsors and these provide a gaze through which the Festival portrays its image. In 2018 the main sponsors were the BBC and Tata, with other less prominent companies regarded as ‘global partners’. One inference to be drawn from this is that the ‘Literature Festival’ is more than simply a book fair, attended

The Hay Festival

by tourists with literary gazes. Also significant is the name change; it is no longer known as the Hay Literature Festival but simply as the Hay Festival. (Copyright in 2005 was entitled ‘Hay Festival of Literature and the Arts Ltd.’ (TGHF, 2006), and in 2018 was simply ‘The Hay Festival’ (The Hay Festival, 2018c)). This name change seems in keeping with the programming of events and, as noted above, the prominence of celebrities who do not necessarily have direct connections with literature or books. Since 2000 there appears to have been a growth in the development of other ‘forms of art’, such as music, dance and film, linked to the ever-growing tourist numbers attending the Festival. In 1995 there were 25,000 visitors (Seaton, 1996) apparently rising to 80,000 by 2005 (TGHF, 2006). However, visitor numbers are estimations from ticket sales and, as will be shown later on in the text, there is a dissonance with establishing the actual number of visitors. The programming of events is similar to other literary festivals and has not altered a great deal

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over the years. The Festival runs over a 2-week period and in 2018 included 13 days of events, usually beginning at 9:00 a.m. and on some days concluding at 11:00 p.m. (HFP, 2018). This is a somewhat longer daily programme than other festivals, possibly reflecting the idea that visitors are actually staying in or around Hay and wish to see a number of events during the day. In 2005 there were 359 events over 10 days, compared to 249 in 2003 (TGHF, 2002, 2004, 2005) and in 2018 there were over 500 events during 13 days (HFP, 2018). The number of films and other arts events are significantly minor to the main programme. The Festival weeks are always the last week of May and first week of June (usually half-term school break in the UK). The Hay Festival used to be located at a number of different venues throughout the town, many of which were temporary: for example marquees were often used. During its formative years the main Festival site was centred around the town’s primary school (see Fig.  11.2) but it has now moved to agricultural fields just outside

Fig. 11.2.  The Hay Festival: The Old Central Grounds in the primary school, 2003.

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Fig. 11.3.  The new Hay Festival site on green fields out-of-town, 2018.

the town (see Fig.  11.3). Ticket prices have increased but remain affordable (given inflation and time scale); in 2005 they ranged from £2 to £22 (TGHF, 2005) and in 2018 were priced between £5 and £40. Media coverage of the Hay Festival is very conspicuous and UK based. For example, in 2018 the BBC was the main sponsor and the BBC Radio 4 Today programme was actually based at the Festival. Additionally, daily reports from the Festival were printed in the major broadsheet newspapers, many of which have previously been Festival sponsors.

Method The current research for this chapter used a qualitative method for the collection of data, building on the qualitative/quantitative data (Jensen and Laurie, 2016) of past research collected in 2003 (Jenkins, 2007). For the current research, a number of key actors (retail, festival employees and volunteers, etc.) were interviewed and questioned about past and present developments of the Hay Festival. The sample choice of interviewees was made on a judgemental basis, as would be expected for a qualitative approach (Jensen and Laurie, 2016). The selection was organized on the premise of choosing individual tourism actors from the

town of Hay and their degree of association with the Hay Festival (see Table 11.1). This qualitative data was then analysed and specific themes identified to provide a reflective gaze on the Hay Festival and Hay-on-Wye. The new data of 2018 was then compared with the previous research findings, published by Jenkins as part of a four-study evaluation of literary festivals within a region of the UK (Jenkins, 2007). The interview sessions were planned as a 20-minute discourse on issues relating to the Festival. The author had a number of subject areas that needed to be covered, but allowed the interviewees to initiate comments that they felt were important. It was a ‘laissez-faire’ approach, designed to relax the actors and allow them to discuss topics that they thought were relevant to the Hay Festival and its relationship with Hayon-Wye. Most interviews were recorded and carried out by telephone, one was by e-mail and one face-to-face.

Sustainability Impacts The data collected will be discussed using the perspective of the ‘pillars of sustainability’ that the UN Global Sustainable Tourism Council (GSTC, 2018) have verified as important to help

The Hay Festival

Table 11.1.  List of tourism actors, interviewed summer 2018. Summary: Hay Festival Interviews 3 Hay Festival management employees 2 Bookshops 1 General retailer 1 HowTheLightGetsIn employee 1 Festival volunteers

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the environmental impact of creating a live festival with the focus on energy, waste, transport, procurement and venues’ (The Hay Festival, 2018a). Sustainability, although in its ascendance in 2003, was somewhat nascent when the first data collection was completed (2003) and was without the prominence it now commands. The following discussion on the four pillars of sustainability explores these issues.

1 Book Town organizer 1 Visit Wales employee

Economic sustainability

1 Sustainability expert 1 NGO Specific Hay interviews: Book Town representatives Book Town Organizer

Organizer

Hay Festival volunteer

Volunteer

Retailer 1

Bookshop

Retailer 2

Bookshop

Retailer 3

General Retail

Hay Festival 2

Management

Hay Festival 3

Management

Consultant 1

Sustainability

Visit Wales 1

Events

Hay Festival 1

Management

HowTheLightGetsIn Festival Employee Tourist NGO

Employee

identify the level of sustainability at a destination, which seemed appropriate to the impacts that the Hay Festival has had on the town of Hay.

Sustainability The current debate on climate change and subsequent issues of economic development and economic equity has brought sustainability of tourism products to the fore (Jenkins and Schröder, 2013). The Hay Festival has attempted to embrace sustainability; furthermore, the variety and array of scientific publications and authors at the Festival gives gravitas to this area of concern. It is not surprising that the Festival states that ‘[f]or ten years, Hay Festival has developed a programme of managing and mitigating

Economic sustainability is an extremely important pillar of the GSTC criteria. Economic stability and the contribution to the local economy is imperative to sustainable measures and from previous research (Jenkins, 2007) it seemed evident that the large numbers of tourists attending the Festival do contribute significantly to the local economy. This supports Florence’s comment that the Hay Festival ensures the town’s income for at least half the year (Jenkins, 2007). The initial research by Jenkins (2007) gave estimated figures of £10–£24 million being generated by the Festival. In 2018, the financial contribution was approximately £24 million into the local economy and surrounding areas (Hay Festival 3, 2018). Reviewing the Festival accounts for 2003 compared with 2016 identifies the turnover as greatly increased from £922,429 (Hay Accounts, 2003) to £4,177,236 (Hay Accounts, 2016), a significant increase in revenue and reflective of the growth of the Festival in numbers of visitors and other cash-generating products, further supporting the argument that the Hay Festival does indeed seem to bring significant positive economic impacts to the town. The author’s previous research in 2007 provided much-needed economic data and confirmed the economic importance of Hay as a significant tourist event. Table  11.2 presents a summary of tourist expenditure; when the modal category of £101–£300 is included with the expenditure categories of £101 to £2000+, it represents nearly 66% of visitors. The percentage of expenditure within the lower categories is much smaller compared with the higher echelons, further supporting the assertion that there are fewer local visitors or day visitors to the Hay Festival. This would concur with two features of

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Table 11.2.  Hay Literature Festival: The total cost of visit, including family or group expenditure (from Jenkins, 2007). Total cost

Number of respondents

Percentage

£1-£10

6

3.8

£11-£20

10

6.3

£21-£50

14

8.8

£51–£100

24

15.2

£101–£300

55

34.8

£301–£500

18

11.4

£501–£1000

20

12.7

£1001–£2000

9

5.7

£2001+

2

1.3

Total

158

100

N = 210 Table average = £311 Note: Costs include expenditure for visitor and accompanying group.

the town of Hay-on-Wye. First, the population is only 1500 and the rurality imposes access restrictions on visitors, so there are too few local people to support a Festival of this size (80,000 visitors; Jones, 2005). Second, most visitors would need to travel some distance to attend the Festival. Florence (interviewed July 2002) noted that there is ‘a £3 million visitor spend which circulates for 6 months and attracts “affluent” tourists’. He also indicated that many visitors stay for about 2 days and few stay for any of the full weeks of the festival (Jenkins, 2007). The Festival in 2018 demonstrated a similar profile with duration of stay increased to 4 days and £24 million circulated to the economy (Hay Festival 3, 2018). Other tourism actors within Hay-on-Wye strengthen Florence’s (interviewed July 2002) perceptions. Davies (interviewed June 2002) noted that the Festival attracted the ‘rich, ABC [social economic classes]’ and it is ‘big business, affecting all in Hay’. Retailer A (interviewed June 2002) verifies the economic importance of the Hay Festival, stating that tourists ‘stay the whole week’ providing ‘substantial disposable income’ and that monies are generated from ‘expensive tickets’. This again substantiates the

economic impact that the Festival had on this small town. Guzzle (interviewed July 2002) notes that tourists are ‘important economically, bring in money for everyone’ and further evidence is provided by Rhodes (interviewed October 2002) who states that it is ‘important to [the] local area’ and attracts ‘middle-class and middle-aged’ visitors. These perceptions confirmed the quantitative evidence that the Hay Festival does provide a significant economic input into the local economy and is of considerable importance to the yearly cycle of tourist monies within Hay-on-Wye. Current research also acknowledged the economic importance to Hay-on-Wye (Retailer 1 and 2, 2018; Hay Festival 1 and 3, 2018). When the average expenditure of visitors in 2003 was used to project gross spending, it confirmed that Hay seemed to provide the town with significant economic value: Estimated average spend × number of visitors to the festival £311 × 80,000* = £24,880,000 [*source: BBC Wales, 2005] This supports the concept from the detailed Interview Survey of 2003 that the Festival is of significant economic importance for Hay-onWye. It appears that Florence’s (interviewed July 2002) £3,000,000 is possibly a gross underestimate of the Festival’s impact. This amount, when divided by the number of visitors, gives an average visitor spend of only £37.50, somewhat lower than the average expenditure ascertained from Table  11.2 and well below the UK figure for domestic tourists. In 2017 the domestic tourist spend was £199 for a 3.1 night stay, which further supports the assertion that, currently, staying visitors attending The Hay Festival are likely to significantly contribute to Hay's local economy (Tourism Alliance, 2018). It is also interesting to note that literary festivals have a predisposition towards attracting more women than men and past research has confirmed that Hay is no exception. Furthermore, an a priori assumption relates to the aspect of higher social classes being overly represented at literary events. At Hay there is a significant preponderance of social classes A and B attending the Festival. Additionally, the dominating age category is that of middle age to senior age with a majority being in the 35–64 age range (Jenkins, 2007). This appears to not

The Hay Festival

have changed, with the same profile in 2018 (Retailer 1 and 2, 2018). In terms of the psychographic profile of the visitors, it is suggested that literary festivals, including Hay, attract tourists who are not often found in the mass tourism market. The tendency is towards more individual and specialized aspects of tourism. These consumers are more likely to arrange their own accommodation, etc. rather than taking packages (Jenkins, 2007). As has been seen above, it is difficult to accurately estimate economic spend, as estimates have been based on ticket sales that do not match visitor numbers. In 2003, about 80,000 people may have attended the Festival over 10 days (TGHF, 2005), which now seems an overestimation. In 2018, estimated figures were in the region of 80,000–100,000 (Retailer 1 and Hay Festival 1). So there seems to be some discrepancy between 2003 and 2018 in the actual numbers of visitors at the Festival. This does not detract from the maxim that the Hay Festival has a significant economic impact on the town of Hay-on-Wye. A number of visitors to the Festival were and are excursionist (day visitors, but not necessarily local). Yet accommodation in the area around Hay (within a 30-mile radius) is nearly impossible to book, unless applied for early, sometimes up to a year in advance. This continued to be the case in 2018 and supports previous research which found that the Hay Festival’s contribution has certainly not diminished but has probably increased its impact to the locale (increased number of campsite and Airbnb providers). An important economic impact is the ‘multiplier effect’ and how it circulates within the community. How does the money from the Hay Festival percolate through to the population of Hay Town? The Hay Festival is based in Hay-onWye, but it is unclear how this sum of money (perhaps now £12–£24 m) circulates within the economic base of Hay. The accommodation sector certainly gains from Festival income, as monies flow into the town and the surrounding area. As noted earlier, availability of accommodation has always been very scarce during the Festival period and the advent of the Airbnb market has created more local opportunities for increasing revenue, together with the opening of ‘garden

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retail stores’ by local residents, ‘en route’ to the Festival. Clearly both seem to have brought supplementary income to some of the townspeople. A number of town shops commented that even with the Festival now being located ‘out of town’ many visitors continue to venture into the town (usually those who are staying a few days) (Retailer 1). However, comments were made that the day visitor is unlikely to visit the town and the provision of retail outlets at the Festival site tends to further restrict the need to venture into town (Retailer 1 and 2). A comment by the Festival Management was that 25% of the companies on the Festival site were local (Hay Festival 2, 2018). The Festival has a growth plan of developing around 5% per year (Hay Festival 3, 2018); however, the concept of what might be an optimum size, whether from a turnover perspective or numbers of visitors seems somewhat nebulous and perhaps should be more clearly evaluated and specified given the discussion below relating to environmental impacts of tourists on the town of Hay (Hay Festival 1, 2018).

Environmental sustainability The Festival site had many different types of sustainable measures related to the environment. The visible evidence of environmental sustainability was very clear and the ubiquitous recycling bins are to be found at prominent locations. Furthermore, given the current polemic relating to plastic the Hay Festival is making efforts to ensure that plastic is reduced and restricted at the Festival (Hay Festival 2, 2018). Of greater concern is climate change and the carbon footprint of the Festival. Hay Festival has set up a scheme to offset the carbon of Festival visitors, which is a voluntary scheme to encourage its audience to offset their carbon (Hay Festival 1) (The Hay Festival, 2018a). However, what is unclear is how many visitors take up this carbon offsetting. Hay Festival has also tried to reduce car usage, which given the Festival’s rural location is a considerably difficult task. Hay Festival has developed schemes to use visitor buses from Hereford and Cardiff train stations, which has been met with mixed success (Hay Festival 2, 2018). Other measures such as

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‘park and ride’, a small distance from the Festival site, are to be commended but in many respects seem more an attempt to deal with congestion in the small town of Hay, rather than any measure of mitigation or sequestration of CO2. A report by Cardiff University also identified car use as a major concern for the environment at the Hay Festival, noting that car transport was a serious carbon issue and finding an effective solution would be complex (Collins et al., 2011). What seems evident is the nervousness of the Hay Festival to actually strongly persuade visitors to offset their carbon footprint. It is suggested that further climate management measures could be adopted, such as increasing ticket prices or car park prices that could be used to offset the carbon footprint of the audience. From the author’s perspective, arrival at the Festival has become more congested than in previous years. The very large Festival car park outside the town further demonstrates the proliferation of car usage which has clearly increased (from 2003) as the Festival has grown. Regrettably, this comes at a cost to the environment, which concomitantly suggests carbon footprints of the Festival are increasing every year, especially give the strategy of allowing for a 5% growth (Hay Festival 3, 2018). One important environmental and destination aspect for Hay that needs consideration is the emerging concept of ‘overtourism’, especially given the Festival’s growth strategy. This raises the need to consider environmental capacity and the concept of an optimal size for the Hay Festival. This topic was obfuscated when put to a number of Hay Festival employees (Hay Festival 1 and 3).

Social and cultural Social and cultural impacts are the 3rd and 4th pillars of GSTC criteria and need to be addressed by the Hay Festival. An important element of this relates to the cohesiveness of the Hay-onWye community, in particular the townspeople’s reaction to the growth of the Festival, given that its numbers are approximately 66 times larger than the population. That said, a community can never be regarded as homogeneous. There are many definitions of community, demonstrating

the diverse understanding of the concept. Every locale will have different members with different opinions and views, yet there seems still to be a trope that community and the locale has a part to play in economic or tourist developments (Raj et  al., 2014; Murphy, 1985) within the social and spatial boundary. The Hay Festival is certainly an event that should be closely tied to the community, given how it emerged from Hay’s cultural capital. Current research (2018) has identified concerns of synergy and linkages between the Hay Festival and the community. Friction within a community is inevitable and Hay is no different. The research identified a group, colloquially termed, the Hay-Hay-Hay residents (those born and bred in the locality), who seem to some extent dislocated from the Festival and have either ambivalent or negative attitudes towards it and its effects on the town. Some retailers also expressed similar concerns (Retailer 3), but this really depended on the nature of the merchandising being offered in the town. Dissatisfaction with large tourism events is not unusual and is reflective of the Doxey’s Index (Murphy, 1985), which is frequently related to residents or businesses who are uninvolved in the tourism event or industry or fail to financially/culturally benefit from it. Certainly, an influx of some 80,000– 100,000 people into a population of only 1500 has an immense impact and one that is bound to have a negative effect on some residents. Undoubtedly, moving the Festival site to an outof-town location (2008 onwards) has produced both negative and positive impacts on Hay town. A number of actors from the town thought that the Festival now seemed dislocated from the population (Retailer 1 and 2). Another impression was that the Festival, although located in Hay, has now elevated itself beyond the populace and many thought it unapproachable and removed from its roots (Book Town Organizer, 2018). This process seems to have occurred when the Festival moved from its town location (based round the primary school) to the out-of-town greenfield site (Retailer 2, 2018). Originally, being based in the town around the primary school engendered a spatially and socially centralizing effect on the community, which may have created a degree of cohesiveness and belonging. That said, one of the reasons for moving was due to the Festival’s expansion and there are also suggestions that the school raised

The Hay Festival

the Festival rent beyond what the Festival thought was reasonable (Retailer 2, 2018). When the Festival actors were asked about dislocation and unapproachability, they tended to deny that this was the case (Hay Festival 1 and 3, 2018), responding that many Festival employees still lived in Hay and regular contact with the community was also conducted through the Chamber of Commerce and other similar organizations. Furthermore, the Hay Festival’s response to assertions ‘of being removed from the community’ was one of denial and types of community support were cited such as the funding of educational events in Hay and providing sponsorship to other community events (Hay Festival 1 and 3, 2018). However, there is no formal meeting with the community of Hay to review the Festival and how it impacts on the town. The Festival needs to establish some technique of galvanizing the community’s support and to develop processes for direct discourse so that the feeling of dislocation can be ameliorated. Following on from the theme of community benefits, the Hay Festival has created a charity known as the Hay Festival Foundation, which it uses to foster and encourage the proliferation of literature and social aspects of sustainability. The Festival notes: ‘Over the past 30 years we have reached more than five million people on five continents in live events. All our festivals are free for students in full-time higher education ... Each year we bring 10,000 children from 220 schools to the free schools days in Hay’ (The Hay Festival, 2018d) together with other projects such as supporting libraries and literature projects. This statement underpins the idea that the Festival’s gaze is outward-looking, not inward to the town of Hay. Furthermore, the Hay Festival now has an important international gaze, developing satellite festivals in different regions of the globe. This is part of a Hay Festival growth strategy programme and is related to helping other global destinations use the Hay Model to develop similar book festivals (see Table 11.3). The Hay Festival’s prominence in the UK’s event calendar is reflected in the high-profile security arrangements, which were certainly not visible 15 years ago. The presence of antiterrorist police armed with automatic weapons and the mandatory bag search illustrate its repute and its ability to make headlines.

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Table 11.3.  International Hay Book Festivals (from HFP, 2018 and The Telegraph, 2011). Cartagena, Colombia

2019

Querétaro, México

2018

Segovia, España

2018

Arequipa, Perú

2018

Aarhus, Denmark

2017

Xalapa, 2–5 October

2014

Budapest

2013

Beirut

2013

Dhaka

2012

Beirut, Lebanon

2011

Zacatecas, Mexico, 30 June – 3 July

2011

Segovia, Spain, 22–25 September

2011

Nairobi, Kenya, September

2011

Aarah Island, Maldives, October

2011

Kerala

2011

Bogotá 39, Colombia

2007

The Hay Festival has altered the character of Hay-on-Wye via social and cultural impacts, which have been termed the ‘Cotswoldisation’ of the town (Retailer 2, 2018). House prices have risen and the social/cultural mix has changed, with more ‘outsiders’ buying houses, possibly linked to the trendy image of the Hay Festival. Further evidence can be found by Cox (2016), who states that: ‘The Festival’s rise has helped transform Hay from a struggling rural outpost into the Welsh answer to Notting Hill. You’ll pay London prices for the cupcakes but you can still find a bargain property on the high street. If you’re prepared to spruce them up a little, terraced cottages in the town sell for less than £200,000 quoting local Estate agent Mr Williams’ (Cox, 2016). The raffish social class ABs seem to have moved to Hay, encouraged by the pleasant ambiance the Hay Festival creates. As a consequence, the effect has been to change the social/cultural milieu of the town. One comment that resonates was that locals were now tending to ‘move outside of Hay Town’ (Retailer 2, 2018), which seems to support the earlier comment about the ‘Hay-Hay-Hay’ effect. An aspect of sustainability that is often ignored by tourism operators is cultural impacts. For Hay, books seem to be its culture capital. As

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noted earlier in the chapter, Hay-on-Wye is a secondhand bookshop destination that could be viewed as attracting visitors from both a regional and local area. The Hay Festival, as a book festival, has its ‘raison d’être’ to sell new books and to help publisher sales, giving it a far more national and international reach. Secondhand books do not really feature at the Festival. So what exactly is the cultural integrity of the Hay Festival to Hay the book town? It is interesting to note that as the Hay Festival has increased in prominence, the number of bookshops in Hay (originally about 39) has diminished to what might only be about ten (Retailer 1, 2018). Is this the Hay Festival effect on Hay? Unlikely. The cultural integrity of the Festival and Hay has probably never really existed, as each has a different market (Book Town Organizer, 2018). One reason suggested for the decline of secondhand bookshops in Hay-on-Wye is the rise of the Internet (Retailer 1, 2018 and Hay Festival 2, 2018), together with the social and cultural changes of incomers resulting in changes to the types of retail outlets that now exist in Hay-onWye. Yet the interviews did reveal cultural differences between the Hay Festival and another festival held at the same time, ‘HowTheLightGetsIn’, and also differences of residents’ attitudes to both festivals. It seems evident that the philosophy festival of ‘HowTheLightGetsIn’ has capitalized on the Hay Festival and many thought it more community-orientated, providing better concessions and access for the community than the actual Hay Festival (HTLGI 2018 interviewee). However, what seems evident is that without Richard Booth’s entrepreneurial drive to develop Hay as a book town in the 1960s, today’s Hay Festival would probably not have happened. In the author’s opinion, the book cultural capital of Hay-on-Wye was the energizer for providing impetus to the Hay Festival and yet little acknowledgement is made of this by the Hay Festival, perhaps resulting in a growth in cultural dislocation.

Conclusion The Hay Festival is a hallmark event, one of the UK’s most successful and well-known literary occasions, purportedly starting each year of the UK events programme and reinforcing

its importance. Media coverage is extensive and would be very difficult to miss. Its roots and cultural capital are based on Hay’s secondhand books providing a launching pad for the Hay Festival. The Hay Festival could be considered to be the number one event in Wales from a tourism perspective and is said to host between 80,000 and 100,000 visitors, generating £20 m+ income, during a 2-week events programme. The growth of the Hay Festival has meant a change to the locale and the community of Hay-on-Wye, producing a ‘Cotswoldisation’ effect on the town The growth of the Festival has also inevitably had environmental effects on Hay, with increased car usage. Although the Festival has tried to offset any carbon footprints from this increase, the effect has been minimal as most visitors are not really helping in reducing it. The Hay Festival has taken measures to engage in sustainability and the economic/environmental aspects are generally well managed. However, features of social and cultural sustainability are not yet fully addressed, even though Hay’s Festival management takes a different perspective and believes it is fully engaged with the community. The Festival’s gaze is more focused away from the community, towards a national and international perspective. This can be seen through the number of global Hay Festivals that have been established. It appears that more energy has been directed towards other external activities rather than further engagement with the community. With success has come some dislocation and distancing from the community of Hay and although the financial benefits are often eulogized and seem genuine, the social/ cultural changes are seen as secondary. The success of the Hay Festival has shifted its focus and business plan towards a more national and global context. In the author’s opinion, the Festival needs to revisit its roots and engage more with the community. A more community-orientated programme of events (in Hay town) would help in garnering views, feelings and comments. A feedback session or public forum would allow the Festival to gauge the success of its many projects in supporting local schools and literature. As mentioned before, the tone of the interviewees was one of the Hay Festival being in Hay but not a part of it. Finally, although it is difficult to refute the significant financial benefit of the Hay

The Hay Festival

Festival on the town and surrounding areas, hard evidence on how monies circulate through the community is missing and future research is needed to clearly identify the

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multiplier effect. This would help demonstrate to the community that the Hay Festival is indeed of economic benefit to the little Welsh town of Hay-on-Wye.

References BBC Wales (2005) Home page, BBC Wales, mid Wales, the Hay festival 2005. Available at: http://www.​ bbc.​co.​uk/​wales/​mid/​sites/​hay/​hayfestival.​shtml (accessed 7 February 2006). Book Towns (2018) Member book towns and individuals. Available at: http://www.​booktown.​net/​members.​html (accessed 1 October 2018). Collins, A., Potoglou, D. and Fryers, A. (2011) Reducing the impact of visitor travel: reflections on Hay Festival, Hay-on-Wye. Cardiff University, Wales. Cox, H. (2016) UK property Hay-on-Wye: how small town became Wales’s answer to Notting Hill, UK Property. Financial Times, London. Available at: https://www.​ft.​com/​content/​af7ef3a0-​182e-​11e6-​ b197-​a4af20d5575e (accessed 14 July 2018). Ezard, J. (2005) Guardian Hay Festival Turns to Film. The Guardian. Available at: https://www.​theguardian.​ com/​uk/​2005/​feb/​17/​filmfestivals.​books (accessed 30 April 2018). GSTC (2018) GSTC criteria overview. Available at: https://www.​gstcouncil.​org/​gstc-​criteria/ (accessed 14 July 2018). Hay Accounts (2003) Hay Festival of Literature and ARTS Limited, final statements for the year ended 30th September 2003. Available at: https://​beta.​companieshouse.​gov.​uk/​company/​02258780/​filing-​history?​page=3 (accessed 20 September 2018). Hay Accounts (2016) Report of the directors and unaudited statements for the year ending 31 December 2016 for Hay Festival of Literature and ARTS Limited. Available at: https://​beta.​companieshouse.​ gov.​uk/​company/​02258780/​filing-​history?​page=1 (accessed 20 September 2018). HFP (2018) Imagine the World, 24th May - 3 June 2018, The Hay Festival Programme PDF. The Hay Festival. Jenkins, I.S. (2007) Postmodern Tourist Niches: The case of Literary Festivals. PhD, University of Wales, Swansea. Jenkins, I.S. and Schröder, R. (2013) Sustainability in Tourism: A Multidisciplinary Approach. Springer Gabler, Germany. Jensen, E.A. and Laurie, C.L. (2016) Doing Real Research: A Practical Guide to Social Research. Sage, London. Jones, H. (2005) Film theme will add Hollywood glamour to Hay festival line-up. Western Mail, 18 February. Murphy, P.E. (1985) Tourism: A Community Approach. Routledge, London. Negrine, R. (1994) Politics and the Mass Media, 2nd edn. Routledge, London. PCC (Powys County Council) (2005) A Sustainable Tourism Strategy for Powys: Making Quality Count. PCC, Llandrindod Wells, Wales. PCC (Powys County Council) (2018) 2011 census. Available at: http://www.​powys.​gov.​uk/​en/​statistics/​ view-​statistics-​about-​your-​area/​detailed-​census-​information/ (accessed 1 October 2018). Raj, R., Walters, P. and Rashid, T. (2014) Events Management: Principles and Practice. Sage, London. Seaton, A.V. (1996) Hay on Wye, the mouse that roared: Book towns and rural tourism. Tourism Management 17(5), 379–382. DOI: 10.1016/0261-5177(96)84078-7. TGHF (2002) The Guardian Hay Festival, Change Your Mind, the festival guide. The Hay-on-Wye Festival, Hay-on-Wye. TGHF (2004) The Guardian Hay Festival, Word & Mouth, the festival guide. The Hay-on-Wye Festival, Hay-on-Wye. TGHF (2005) The Guardian Hay Festival, Tilting at Windmills, programme, 26 May–5 June. Hay Festival Literature and the Arts, Hay-on-Wye. TGHF (2006) The Guardian Hay Festival, 2006, Home page, 26 May–5 June. Hay Festival Literature and the Arts, Hay-on-Wye. The Hay Festival (2018a) Sustainability – Hay on Earth. Available at: https://www.​hayfestival.​com/​wales/​ sustainability (accessed 14 July 2018).

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The Hay Festival (2018b) Sponsors. Available at: https://www.​hayfestival.​com/​m-​12-​sponsors.​aspx?​resetfilters=​true (accessed 14 July 2018). The Hay Festival (2018c) Home page. Available at: http://www.​hayfestival.​com/​home (accessed 14 July 2018). The Hay Festival (2018d) The Hay Festival Foundation. Available at: https://www.​hayfestival.​com/​ hay-​festival-​foundation The Telegraph (2011) Hay festivals: a guide to international events. Culture: Hay Festival. Available at: https://www.​telegraph.​co.​uk/​culture/​hay-​festival/​8146218/​Hay-​festivals-​A-​guide-​to-​international-​ events.​html (accessed 14 July 2018). Tourism Alliance (2018) UK tourism statistics 2017. Available at: http://www.​tourismalliance.​com/​downloads/​TA_​395_​420.​pdf (accessed 1 October 2018). TPMW (Tourism Partnership Mid Wales) (2005) Business plan for tourism partnership mid Wales 2005/6. Available at: http://www.​tpmw.​co.​uk/​files/​tpmw_​busplan_​05-​06_​eng.​pdf (accessed 6 July 2005). TWG (2013) The Welsh Government Strategy for Tourism 2013–2020. The Welsh Government, Cardiff. VisitWales (2018a) Introducing Hay. Available at: http://www.​visitwales.​com/​things-​to-​do/​whats-​on/​festivals/​hay-​festival (accessed 14 July 2018). VisitWales (2018b) An insider’s guide to Hay-on-Wye. Available at: http://www.​visitwales.​com/​explore/​ south-​wales/​wye-​valley-​vale-​usk/​insider-​guide-​to-​hay-​on-​wye (accessed 1 October 2018). Welcome to Hay-on-Wye (2018). Available at: http://www.​hay-​on-​wye.​co.​uk/​info/​default.​asp (accessed 10 June 2019).

12 

Literary Tourism in the Indian  Sub-Continent

Anukrati Sharma1* and Azizul Hassan2 Department of Commerce and Management, University of Kota, Rajasthan, India; 2 Cardiff Metropolitan University, UK

1

Introduction In concept, literary tourism is an action conceived from an enthusiasm for an author, a literary write up or an atmosphere. This type of special-interest tourism also relates to the literary legacy of a place, including the origin and graves of literary figures, literary history centres and different spots associated with authors and literary works, and other associations between places and literary topics. Literary tourism has gained a global perspective in the last few decades. Literary tourists are especially interested in how a place has had an influence over the writing and, at the same time, how writing has created a particular place. To become a literary tourist, a person does not merely need to be a book lover but also needs an inquiring mindset. However, literary maps, literary guides and literary tours can have an influence on literary tourism. A good number of museums are related to writers and these are mostly housed in buildings related to a writer’s literary career, such as a home or birthplace. This research understands the existing trend of literary tourism and literary places in a cross-country perspective of India and Bangladesh, relating this to some generic suggestions. Based on a case-study viewpoint, this research addresses basic theoretical

analysis of the two relevant terms: literary tourism and literary places. The Indian research context is placed under the lens of literary tourism, while the Bangladesh context is viewed to cover literary places.

Literary Tourism: Features and Forms Literary tourism is a form of cultural tourism that addresses events and places from fictional texts or the authors’ lives. Literary tourism accommodates routes taken by a fictional character or visiting a place associated with a novelist, such as their homes or grave. Some scholars consider literary tourism as a type of secular pilgrimage. A typical example is the Thomas Hardy Way’s long-distance walking route. Andersen and Robinson (2002) view literary tourism as social tourism from an anthropological viewpoint that includes visitors and tourists relating to, finding and making signifiers of social qualities. In theory, literary tourism is seen as involving destinations that are celebrated for literary portrayals or potential associations with literary spots (Squire, 1996). A literary tourist is regularly pulled into a place by a mix of genuine and envisioned reasons. For a few, the books or the verse have motivated

*Corresponding author: ​dr.​anukratisharma@​gmail.​com © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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and changed the reader into a tourist. Herbert (2001) clarifies that it is not only the literary explorer who visits literary destinations, but rather there are two general classes of sightseers who visit literary destinations: scholarly travellers and general heritage tourists. As indicated by Butler (1986), referred to in Busby and Hambly (2000), there are four types of abstract tourism; Busby and Klug (2001) included two additional types. These are: (i) part of reverence to a real area (firmly connected to the provenance of the author and his/her association with the area, related to the development of the ‘literary pioneer’ and has a tendency to happen on a higher scholarly level); (ii) destination of importance in anecdotal/fictional works; (iii) destination that was attractive to literary and different figures (e.g. setting improves nature of contact, sights and memorabilia, identified with author and fiction-related literary tourism); (iv) literature so famous that the place turns into a destination in its own right (the destination picks up prevalence wholly on author-related literary tourism); (v) travel composing; and (vi) film-incited literary tourism (i.e. the traveller has perused the writer’s work in the wake of seeing a film based on a book (Busby and Hambly, 2000)).

Literary Place: Aspects and Dynamics Literary places can be tourist destinations in their own right or a major aspect of a more extensive tourist attraction. They can be alluring as a direct result of the passionate qualities or implications visitors attribute to them. A minority of visitors have a previous feeling of importance or passionate connection, yet, for some, these are increased through encounters during the visit. As Ridanpää (2007) clarifies, through writing, places can be developed as mystical, hallowed, exceptional and ‘other’, in this way creating people’s ‘topographical imaginaries’ of areas or districts. These geological imaginaries impact the travel choices made by tourists. Literary places can be characterized in different ways, but essentially, they obtain significance from connections with authors and the settings of their books. These destinations pull in

tourists and support heritage and cultural tourism. In the present study, an attempt has been made to highlight literary tourism as a fresh approach for the development of tourism, culture and heritage at Kota city. The city has immense literary resources and this chapter stresses the opportunities and benefits of literary associations for the development of tourism. As literary tourism is quite a new approach to formulate and implement, the paper also throws light on current challenges and looks to innovative solutions to further boost literary tourism in the future. Herbert (2001) summarized two sorts of literary places. The first type involves genuine and author-related places: ‘In these places, a visitor can even now leave a house and step into scenes which have scarcely changed since the author drew breath and inhaled writing into them … We stroll in our writers’ footsteps and see through their eyes when we enter these spaces’ (Marsh 1993, cited in Herbert, 2001). The gravesite of the author/artist may be a huge attraction for readers: Watson (2006) recommends that this type of literary journey begins from the idea of the religious journey. Another focus is the origin of the author or writer. This requires considerably more creative energy and enthusiastic venturing on the part of the literary visitor than paying praise to the human remains of the author/writer at a graveside (Watson, 2006). The home of the author or writer may still be accessible: Herbert (2001) recommends that individuals are attracted to previous homes of writers because of a feeling of wistfulness. Andersen and Robinson (2002) noted how the author’s home holds unmistakable associations between the ‘made’ and the ‘maker’, permitting visitors to take part in various passionate encounters. It offers a cosy and real experience to visit the innovative space where the composed works were really considered and created. The second type of literary place involves envisioned or fiction-related spots connected to composed works. Places can convey impressions from envisioned universes which can be seen to be ‘genuine’ to the guest in that they summon engagement and feelings. Herbert (2001) considers that these spots where the genuine and the envisioned consolidate have unique significance to guests. Pocock (1987) recognized that

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the picture of Heathcliff evoked greater fervour in devotees of Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights than simply going by Haworth to tread in the strides of the Bronte sisters.

A New Subset in Literary Tourism The very first publication that took advantage of tourism fiction technology was Southeastern Literary Tourism Initiative’s (2012) This Side of Paradise: Interactive Tourism Edition (Fitzgerald, 2012), based on F. Scott Fitzerald’s classic novel. This tourism edition presented web links to tours of Princeton University, where Fitzgerald studied in real life and which the fictional protagonist in the novel Amory Blaine also attended. This tourism edition also presented links to Montgomery, Alabama, where Fitzgerald fell in love with his wife-to-be, Zelda Sayre. This was quite similar to the fictional character, Amory, who fell in love with Rosalind. Literary tourists can also visit book sites, where literary tourists get engaged in bookstore tourism. In bookstore tourism, tourists browse local bookshops for titles particularly related to the site, as well as regional authors and books. These qualities frame the premise of the picture of an artistic place, as could be anticipated from a promotional point of view. Utilizing a destination’s abstract associations can give the guest both explicit and verifiable portrayals of the goal. The idea of literary tourism has been recognized by neighbourhood specialists, goal administration associations and business visionaries as a chance to upgrade or build up a ‘tourist zone of literature lovers’, pulling in an assortment of devotees and general guests. Literary tourism has developed into an industrially noteworthy wonder and positive pictures of numerous goals associated with writing are presently being advanced. Traditionally, most literary tourism is centred on popular works of an important literary person. However, in recent years, ‘tourism fiction’ aims to promote tourism in a particular destination. Modern tourism fictions appear as travel guides in a story that shows readers how to make visits to real places that appear in the fictional tales.

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Cases Literary Tourism at the Hadoti Region, India According to the Rajasthan Patrika (Patrika, 2017), India is a rich country in many ways. The country is not only known for its hospitality, heritage and culture, but also for its rich literature. Distinct literature is being created in many Indian languages. The famous epics Ramayana and Mahabharata, earlier known only for their stories, dramas and ritual belief, these days are extensively used in management courses and motivational lectures. From ancient to presentday India, people are taking benefits from Vastu Shastra, which has been used as guidelines for the construction, decoration, etc. of buildings. Bengali writer Rabindranath Tagore holds a position of honour: he won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913. Meghdoot, Shakuntala and Ratnavali are famous literary works of ancient India. Kota city is a part of the Hadoti region of Rajasthan. Other than Kota, the region comprises Bundi, Baran and Jhalawar Districts. The region is very well known for its natural beauty, bodies of water and heritage monuments. But the unrevealed treasures to the world are those poets, saints, writers and authors who have contributed a great deal to the literature. Among those poets, one of the most famous is named Kala Badal, who was born in 1918 in a small village named Kakodikheda, Baran District in Hadoti region. His parents gave him the name Bharav Lal. The poet got his new name on a platform at Udaipur city in 1946 while singing his song. After listening to him, Pandit Jawahar Lal Nehru gave him the name, ‘Kala Badal’, which is actually the name of his song. The poet/writer also participated in many social development programmes. He was a member of the Quit India Movement, whose poems and songs inspired many people to stand up for their rights. His book is a collection of Hindi and Rajasthani (state-level language) songs. Hadoti has a poet saint, named Saint Pipa, who was from Gagron, Jhalwar, another UNESCO World Heritage site. From Bundi District, part of Hadoti region, the writer and poet Suryamal Mishran is very renowned. As

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well as the aforesaid poets and writers, Hadoti is rich with many other writers: Atul Kanak, Dr Om Nagar, Ramnarayan Meena ‘Haldhar’, Dr Ambika Dutt Chaturvedi, … the list is endless! The region has a long way to go as a literary circuit, but has the potential to attract literature lovers, heritage and culture admirers and those who want to visit and get connected with the region for its beautiful traditional poems, songs, etc.

The ‘Shilaidaha Kuthibadi’, Bangladesh Bangladesh has a traditional background in nurturing diverse areas of tourism. The country is described as having supportive tourism policies (Hassan and Burns, 2014). It also favours medical tourism (Hassan et  al., 2015), wildlife tourism (Hassan and Sharma, 2017a, Hassan and Sharma, 2017b), as well as technologyinduced tourism activities (Hassan, in press, Hassan, 2018). According to The Banglapedia (2017), Rabindranath Tagore (sometimes written as Ravīndranātha Thākura) is a prolific hero of Bengali literature. He was born on 7 May 1861 and died on 7 August 1941. Commonly known as the ‘Kobiguru’, he was the dominant Bengali polymath who reshaped Bengali music and literature. He also reshaped Indian art, touched with the contextual modernism of the latter part of the 19th century and early part of the 20th century. He became the first non-European to win the Nobel Prize for Literature, in 1913, for authoring Gitanjali with its ‘profoundly sensitive, fresh and beautiful verse’. Tagore’s poetic songs are seen as mercurial and spiritual. However, the influence of Tagore on Bengali literature has turned him into a legendary figure. The ‘Shilaidaha Kuthibadi’ has an important place in literature, located in Kumarkhali Upazila of Kushtia District in Bangladesh. This place is famous for the ‘Kuthi Bari’, a country house built by Dwarkanath Tagore (one of the first Indian industrialists and entrepreneurs). A part of Rabindranath Tagore’s life was spent in this place, where he created some memorable poems. Tagore started managing the family estates in Shelaidaha in 1890 and spent a decade there, with irregular intervals, from 1891 to

1901. The ‘Shilaidaha Kuthibadi’ was built by Tagore’s father, Maharshi Debendranath Tagore. The bank to which the Tagore Estate was indebted repossessed this house and auctioned it. Until the East Bengal State Acquisition and Tenancy Act of 1950 abolished the Zamindari system, this house was a part of the Roy Estate. In 1958, the then Divisional Commissioner of Rajshahi, Syed Murtaza Ali, took the initiative of preserving this house, which had become dilapidated. During his stay, Tagore wrote many of his famous short stories and poems that were later classed as masterpieces (e.g. Chitra, Chaitali, Katha o Kahini, Sonar Tori and many others). Most of the poems of Kheya and Naibedya were written here as well as many of the songs of Geetimalya and Gitanjali. In addition, many of Tagore’s creations were translated at this location. Tagore started translating Gitanjali into English here, which brought him the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913. This house is three stories high and built with timber, brick and corrugated iron sheets. It is a rather pyramid-shaped building, with a terrace, on a plot of approximately 11 acres. The building is situated on the right side of the compound. A recent restoration of the ‘Kuthi Bari’ was completed by the Department of Archaeology, Ministry of Cultural Affairs, Bangladesh. It now serves as a museum, named the ‘Tagore Memorial Museum’. Many of the objects that belonged to Tagore are displayed at this museum (e.g. wardrobe, bed, lawn mower, iron chest, framed pictures, and his houseboat). A number of festivals are also observed at the ‘Kuthi Bari’, such as the ‘Pochishe Boishakh’ (the 25th Baishakh), Tagore’s birth anniversary. This is a 5-day festival celebrated by people from across the world to celebrate Tagore’s birthday. Programmes include cultural activities, discussions, a fair and stage play.

Some Suggestions The Hadoti Region, India It has been concluded that Kota city has an immense opportunity to develop as a literary tourism destination; not only because of the places, houses, etc., of the authors, but also because of

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the rich culture, values, beliefs, literature and festivals. They are the actual sources and attractions that draw people to this place. However, a city like Kota cannot go far in literary tourism without adopting a joint approach to mix the heritage, culture and presentation of epics and literature with the help of literary festivals. A field work survey and secondary data conclude that Kota city can do wonders if it focuses on literary festivals. Tourist packages for literary tourism in the region are urgently required. Yiannakis and Davies (2012) proposed that ‘famous writing impacted individuals’ impressions’ of rural spaces, with frequently sentimental and thoughtful introductions of rural scenes affecting tourists’ comprehension of rural spaces, vocations and economies. Along these lines, social tourism and, specifically, artistic tourism attractions can demonstrate a significant advantage for rural communities. However, the Hadoti region suffers from poor infrastructure, lack of amenities, and a lack of promotion and marketing of literature. This lack of information suggests that the authorities and local businesses are not aware of the potential benefits of literary tourism development for Kota. In order to achieve such benefits, there is a need to create an emotional association with the place. Through education and local entertainment providers, it is important to connect the young generation with their heritage and culture. Awareness of the success of local writers can motivate the reading habits of local people, and encourage the conservation and protection of their literature. With local pride in their heritage, the community can create destination imaging with a distinct perspective, enhance the knowledge of visitors and build relationships between author(s)/writer(s) and readers. When the place becomes recognized as a destination for literary tourism, the visitors will provide economic support and occupational opportunities will emerge for tour guides, museum attendants and all aspects of hospitality services. There are also benefits for writers and publishers. As a place becomes known, so the images of writers associated with it develop and a virtuous circle of mutual reinforcement develops. In the modern, technology-orientated world, books are losing their status and importance, especially if they are in Hindi or a regional language; literary tourism will help to regain

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that lost status, and technology can help in the process by spreading the fame of both writers and destinations. However, before all this can happen for Kota and the Hadoti region, the infrastructure inadequacies mentioned above must be attended to, for which government support is greatly needed. Furthermore, specific development is needed for the literature side of the programme. For instance, qualified guides are required with knowledge of literature and the writers’ details, and associations must be formed with universities, educational institutions and colleges. These academics can contribute greatly to awareness campaigns focusing on the importance of literature. To market the destination effectively, blogs and websites are needed with the details of writers and their writings. Travel agencies can assist by adding literary travel tour packages to their websites.

The ‘Shilaidaha Kuthibadi’, Bangladesh The application of innovative technologies in the publication industry, such as digital tourism fiction books, tends to allow literary tourists to follow direct links to tourism websites related to that story. This can be performed on new e-reading devices, such as iPad, Kindle, iPhone, smart phones, tablets, notebooks, regular desktop or laptop computers. Such links in the story allow readers to simultaneously learn about the specific places without making any search on the web. Tourism growth in the tourism literature is, for the most part, depicted as a mixed blessing. It can create new jobs, generate more income and help build up the local infrastructure (Cynthia, 2003). There are already literary travellers, yet the individuals who visit such places out of general curiosity, rather than a determined feeling of commitment, greatly outnumber them. That these types of tourist may pick up joy, pleasure and maybe advancement is not challenged, but rather the experience will be different in kind from that of the literary explorer. The adoption of innovative technology can support both marketing and branding of a literary place. Innovative technology applications in literary

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Places with connections to the life of the author

Places that are associated with the settings for stories or books. This may include a convergence of the genuine and the envisioned, thus giving the place an uncommon significance

Places offering a range of amenities or services

Places associated with an emotional occasion in the author's life, e.g. area of his/her demise.

Places situated in an appealing location

Places full of feeling qualities, sentimentality, memory or imagery. Sightseers are attracted to these areas for more extensive or more profound passionate reasons, e.g. recollections of stories from their youth

Places in an advantageous geographic area (i.e. along a tourism schedule).

Fig. 12.1.  General quality analysis of literary tourism through literary place (adapted from Herbert, 2001, and modified by the authors).

places can particularly benefit this Bangladesh case. Based on discussions in this chapter, literary tourism through literary places can be viewed within the seven parameters, presented in Fig. 12.1.

Conclusion A different perspective towards literary tourism has been explored, by which the place can get benefits in the form of destination branding and promotion strategies. The Hadoti region of Kota can become a location of literary tourism with the appropriate contributions of the government, NGOs, academics, private parties and learners. For literary tourism in the Hadoti region, much work is needed to launch new and ambitious initiatives to make all major

stakeholders pull together to promote literary tourism for sustainable tourism development. Thus, the context of literary tourism in the Hadoti region needs a joint approach to develop literary tourism, cultural and heritage tourism. From the point of view of the ‘Shilaidaha Kuthibadi’, Bangladesh, the application of innovative technologies can help to promote this literary place. This can also support both marketing and branding, which, in turn, helps literary tourism in this destination. This chapter affirms that literary destinations are no longer a mischance of history, destinations of an essayist’s birth or passing; they are additionally social developments, made, increased and elevated to pull in tourists. In a perfect world, an artistic place ought to have most or the majority of the above qualities, keeping in mind the end goal, to ensure its improvement and advancement from a tourism point of view, which can be an area of future research.

References Andersen, H.C. and Robinson, M. (2002) Literature and Tourism: Reading and Writing Tourism Texts. Continuum, London. Busby, G. and Hambly, Z. (2000) Literary tourism and the Daphne Du Maurier festival. In: Payton,P. (ed.) Cornish Studies, Vol. 8. University of Exeter Press, Exeter, pp. 197–212. Busby, G. and Klug, J. (2001) Movie-induced tourism: the challenge of measurement and other issues. Journal of Vacation Marketing 7(4), 316–332. DOI: 10.1177/135676670100700403.

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Butler, R. (1986) Literature as an influence in shaping the image of tourist destinations: a review and case study. In: Marsh, J. (ed.) Canadian Studies of Parks, Recreation and Foreign Lands. Trent University, pp. 111–132. Cynthia, W. (2003) The New Silk Road: mediators and tourism development in Central Asia. Ethnology 42(2), 141–159. Fitzgerald, F.S. (2012) Miller, P. (ed.) This Side of Paradise (Annotated Interactive Tourism Edition). Southeastern Literary Tourism Initiative. Hassan, A. (2018) Technology adoption and popular culture sport tourism. In: Lundberg,C. and Ziakas, V. (eds) Handbook of Popular Culture and Tourism. Routledge, Oxford, UK. Hassan, A. (in press) Innovative technology adoption discourse for film tourism. In: Sharma,A. (ed.) Tourism Development and Destination Branding through Content Marketing Strategies and Social Media. Apple Academic Press, Inc., Waretown. Hassan, A. and Burns, P. (2014) Tourism policies of Bangladesh—A contextual analysis. Tourism Planning & Development 11(4), 463–466. DOI: 10.1080/21568316.2013.874366. Hassan, A. and Sharma, A. (2017a) Wildlife tourism for visitor learning experiences: some evidences on the Royal Bengal tiger in Bangladesh and India. In: Lima, I. and Green,R. (eds) Wildlife Tourism, Environmental Learning and Ethical Encounters. Springer, New York, NY, pp. 155–168. Hassan, A. and Sharma, A. (2017b) Wildlife tourism: technology adoption for marketing and conservation. In: Fatima,J.K. (ed.) Wilderness of Wildlife Tourism. Apple Academic Press, Inc., Waretown, pp. 61–85. Hassan, A., Ahmed, M.U. and Shoeb-Ur-Rahman, M. (2015) The development, nature, and impact of medical tourism in Bangladesh. In: Cooper, M., Vafadari, K. and Hieda, M. (eds) Current Issues and Emerging Trends in Medical Tourism. IGI Global, Hershey, PA, pp. 296–311. Herbert, D. (2001) Literary tourism, places, tourism and the heritage experience. Annals of Tourism Research 28(2), 312–333. DOI: 10.1016/S0160-7383(00)00048-7. Patrika, R. (2017) Black Jubilee of 4th, will be Book Release and Talent Honour. Available at: https://www.​ patrika.​com/​kota-​news/​kala-​badal-​birth-​anniversary-​on-​4th-​of-​september-​1-​1770651/ (accessed 1 September 2017). Pocock, D.C.D. (1987) Haworth: the experience of a literary place. In: Mallory, W.E. and SimpsonHousley,P. (eds) Geography and Literature. Syracuse University Press, Syracuse, New York, pp. 135–142. Ridanpää, J. (2007) Laughing at northernness: postcolonialism and metafictive irony in the imaginative geography. Social & Cultural Geography 8(6), 907–928. DOI: 10.1080/14649360701712677. Squire, S.J. (1996) Literary tourism and sustainable tourism: promoting ‘Anne of Green Gables’ in Prince Edward Island. Journal of Sustainable Tourism 4(3), 119–134. DOI: 10.1080/09669589608667263. The Banglapedia (2017) Shilaidaha Kuthibadi. Available at: http://​en.​banglapedia.​org/​index.​php?​title=​ Shilaidaha_​Kuthibadi (accessed 1 September 2017). Watson, N.J. (2006) The Literary Tourist: Readers and Places in Romantic and Victorian Britain. Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke, UK. Yiannakis, J.N. and Davies, A. (2012) Diversifying rural economies through literary tourism: a review of literary tourism in Western Australia. Journal of Heritage Tourism 7(1), 33–44. DOI: 10.1080/1743873X.2011.618538.

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Making Literary Places

Alana N. Seaman* School of Health and Applied Human Sciences, University of North Carolina, Wilmington, USA

Rich with history and steeped in tradition, New Orleans has drawn tourists from around the world for decades. The French-inspired city, at the mouth of the Mississippi river, boasts impressive museums, antebellum architecture, renowned food and party scenes, and unique cultural and wildlife experiences not found anywhere else. Within this milieu, the city’s literary identity is alive and vibrant. Tourists flock to the Carousel bar in the Hotel Monteleone to enjoy a Sazerac cocktail or a mint julep in the same seats as Hemingway, Faulkner and Capote; seek out the settings mentioned in the novels of Ann Rice and John Grisham in order to pose for pictures; and wait patiently to participate in the annual ‘Stella’ screaming contest recreating the famous scene from Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire. Similarly, visitors to San Francisco stop into the famed Beat-scene bookstore City Lights for poetry readings, seek out the Vesuvio Café to drink and write in true Kerouac fashion, and take day trips down the coast to Monterey to stroll along Steinbeck’s Cannery Row. Coexisting with attractions like Victorian row homes, the awe-inspiring bridges, Alcatraz, and a diverse cultural and culinary scene, the city retains its literary identity.

Other destinations rely almost entirely on a literary identity to attract tourists. In some cases, people may only know about a destination from its connection to a literary work or famous author (see Seaman, 2016). Few travellers, for instance, would have likely heard of the tiny town of Red Cloud, Nebraska, if not for the area’s ties to early 20th-century frontier author Willa Cather. Aside from 612 acres of pristine prairie preserved in Cather’s name, and a small museum in her childhood home, the town has few other distinguishing features. Towns like De Smet, South Dakota, and Monroeville, Alabama, might have long been forgotten if not for ties to native writers Laura Ingalls Wilder (Little House on the Prairie) and Harper Lee (To Kill a Mockingbird). However, simply mentioning a place in a book does not guarantee fame. Claiming to be the hometown of an author does not inherently mean visitors will arrive in waves. Even powerful literary descriptions of a location do not instantly make a setting a tourist destination, a place known for its literary connections. The literary-ness of a place relies instead on both a compelling connection to a book and tourists’ willingness to seek out specific locations mentioned in a book (or associated with an author) and enact behaviours honouring the

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connection. In other words, locations are made literary places, in part, through the actions of tourists.

Place Making Scholars generally agree all places are socially constructed, their meaning reliant on the ways people act in them and the ways we communicate about them (Lefebvre, 1991; Taun, 1977). The various narratives (both real and fictional) we use to describe and express the values associated with a specific location shape how the location is perceived as a unique place (Baker, 2007; Blair, 1998; Hsu, 2005; Litwiller-Berte, 2007; Soja, 1989; Talley, 2013). In this sense, place is seen as flexible, imbued with meaning and inscribed with values communicated through art, literature, film, photography or other popular culture narratives (Hsu, 2005; Litwiller-Berte, 2007; Shortridge, 1991). However, place is also shaped by actions people undertake in a location, and how people behave while performing those actions (Jamal and Hill, 2004; Rickly-Boyd et  al., 2014). Essentially, the two social components work fluidly to shape how a location is made a distinctive place (Jamal and Hill, 2004; Rickly-Boyd et al., 2014).

Dedicated Readers and Values Inscribed In locations associated with literary works or authors, it is avid readers who initially seek out and inscribe a place with literary meaning. Devoted readers, perhaps unfulfilled by the text (Buell, 1989; Santesso, 2004), seek obscure sites from a novel, hunt down specific locations associated with the life of an author, or search for signs and symbols in a landscape to find an author’s true setting. Historically, all literary tourists were dedicated readers, wealthy people who had access to books, could afford to travel and were looking for places to visit and cultural icons to revere (Watson, 2006; Westover, 2012). Contemporary literary tourists act much the same way, though their familiarity with the texts or author inspiring their experiences remains unclear (see Herbert, 2001; Lowe, 2012;

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Seaman, 2016). None the less, they flock to locations by the light of a book and, as a result, inscribe a site with literary significance. Regardless of the reasons for visiting, these pilgrimages highlight the importance of the location as a literary place, reflecting how it should be valued and understood by others (Buell, 1989). In Forks, Washington, for instance, fans of the Twilight books descended on the community’s hospital in the hope of taking photos in front of the emergency room where one of the main characters worked, causing a safety and logistical dilemma. Dedicated readers were so persistent the hospital had no choice but to embrace its literary connection. Hospital administrators set up an official parking spot for the fictional doctor so tourists would have somewhere to take photos, away from the emergency room entrance (see Mitchell, 2016). Now, some 10 years after the popular book series was first published (and several film adaptations followed), a majority of the small town’s businesses still rely, in some way or another, on the literary franchise and the tourists who followed (Lagorio, 2006). The Louvre became a popular literary place when The Da Vinci Code (Brown, 2003) became an international best seller. Visitors clustered around the ‘Mona Lisa’ in droves and looked for clues in galleries from the novel’s plot. Shocked by the sudden increase in visitors and unusually large crowds lingering around Da Vinci’s small painting, officials scrambled to negotiate the logics of its newfound fame (Dakss, 2004). However, given the popularity of the book, the museum embraced its new literary identity, allowing a film adaptation of the book to be shot in the great halls and creating a structured thematic trail so visitors could follow in the footsteps of the novel’s characters (Louvre, n.d.). Following in an author’s or characters’ footsteps is anything but unique. From Montana to Moscow, locales everywhere invite tourists to see them through a literary lens. Several scholars contend an opportunity to see the world through the characters’ or the author’s eyes is central to the literary tourism experience (Buell, 1989; Johnson, 2004). Groth (1997) explained visiting a location associated with a book allows visitors to place the abstract process of reading in reality (see also Pocock, 1981). In many cases, inviting tourists to walk in the footsteps of a favourite literary figure

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is to invite them to literally step into the book (Seaman, 2016). In literary destinations, visitors enact specific behaviours to commemorate the location’s literary ties. Buell (1989) calls these rituals of remembrance through which ‘those regarded for whatever reason as literary heroes becomes enshrined’ (p. 175). Often visitors recite lines or act out scenes from a text, seeing the literary setting as a stage on which certain behaviours can and should be performed (Seaman, 2016). In this sense, a book becomes a guide to a location, an instruction manual on sites to be visited and unique actions to be performed at them (see also Iwashita, 2006). For readers, the text provides an introduction to places they have never been. It takes them on virtual adventures, the author’s words telling them what experiences can be had in the story’s settings (Laing and Frost, 2012). In turn, tourists who travel with the text in mind seek out the specific locations used as the settings for scenes in the text in the hope of enacting or actively viewing the experiences showcased in the book (Seaman, 2016). In other words, book-inspired tourists who visit a location pay tribute to a literary association and lay the groundwork for the literary meaning of the place and the experiences subsequent tourists will likely have when visiting.

Tourist Performance Goffman’s (1959) theory of behaviour as performance illustrates this phenomenon. The notion echoes Shakespeare’s contention that ‘the world is a stage and I am but an actor’, arguing that social interactions are, by nature, performative. Goffman contends that people act in certain ways (or perform particular behaviours and actions) depending on the social situations or settings they are in, or the stages they find themselves on (see also Bagnell, 2003). The theory is particularly popular in tourism studies where people travel specifically to unique stages to perform the unique site-specific activities that enticed them to visit or that are encountered once there (Baerenholdt et  al., 2004; Rickly-Boyd et  al., 2014). These performances contribute to the meaning of a location by placing value on precise sites and certain place-specific experiences

that can be had only there. Enterprising entrepreneurs, for example, may notice an unserved tourism niche and offer literary tours, making the literary heritage of a location a viable local economic industry. Visitors may return home and tell friends about their literary experiences and recommend they seek the same experience on an upcoming visit. If satisfied, those visitors too might share the information, which, over time, may lead the literary performances to become a destination’s must-do activities. Or, local officials may recognize the increased popularity of their community and use the literary connections to justify area preservation and restoration projects, in turn placing even more value on the location’s literary meaning. Regardless, the social construction of literary places is particularly reliant on the performance of tourists.

Literary Place Experiences Many authors have taken inspiration from local surroundings and personal experience, capturing the social and environmental nuances of a unique place in the world and weaving them seamlessly into their stories. An entire era in American literature, the ‘Local Color Movement’, was based on this type of writing (see Baker, 2007). The movement is credited with inscribing many of the geographical and cultural stereotypes people associate with regions of the USA. Scholars contend that just after the Civil War, when the country was spreading west, and the nation was becoming accessible by rail, people became interested in new and far-off places (Baker, 2007; Litwiller-Berte, 2007). Literature depicting the local dialectics, topography, culture and everyday life of locations that could be reached by travelling on the new infrastructure both satisfied the public’s desire to learn more about those places and enticed them to make the trip. These literary windows into different lands were so popular the railroads commissioned authors to pen local-colour stories for publication in popular magazines. Clearly effective, images of New England as home to society, the West as young, wild and unruly or the South as a place of plantations, chivalrous men and sweltering summers endure today (Shortridge, 1991).

Making Literary Places

While imagery born from literature produced during the Local Color Movement era is often associated with large swathes of geography encompassing a variety of destinations and may therefore seem based on nothing more than a stylized reimagination of a number of places and local characters, many literary representations are actually based in reality. So, what makes already popular place-specific tourist performances different from tourist performances inspired by a literary work that simply depicts the region’s local colour? Readers inspired by literary ties to a location often take their performances one step further than the average tourist. Much more aware of the details of the landscape and the ways in which site-specific performances are enacted, readers and book-inspired tourists often seek out the exact locations where literary scenes took place and undertake activities mimicking a favourite literary figure. They look for particular signs and symbols at the destination to determine authenticity and, once these are found, enact the same site-specific activities as other tourists, but do so in the same manner as the characters from a literary work would have, or as the author himself or herself would have. Montana’s wild and rugged landscape, for example, is a famed location for fly-fishing in its own right. Many would argue that Maclean’s (1976) book A River Runs Through It simply captured the beauty and depicted the activities that have taken place in the Big Blackfoot River Valley for centuries. Yet, visitors inspired by the book seek out the specific fishing holes on the Big Blackfoot River that Maclean wrote about in his text. They read the landscape, scanning for subtle symbols that indicate they have found the writer’s actual setting for a particular scene; a bend in the river here, a large boulder propped atop two smaller boulders there, a sheer cliff face catching the last of the afternoon light. Further, while other fly-fishing enthusiasts happily cast their line back and forth, waiting for a prize-worthy catch, the literary tourist will act out a scene from the book set in that same location (Seaman, 2016). Embodying their favourite characters, dedicated reader visitors literally perform the book in these settings. While reciting lines, staging photo opportunities, mimicking particular mannerisms and acting out a particular sequence of events or whole scenes,

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they are also reinforcing the literary-ness of the location. Similar examples can be found in the American South, where fried foods have graced dinner tables for centuries. Yet, despite being ubiquitous across the region, fans of Fannie Flagg’s Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café (Flagg, 1987) (and the extremely popular film adaptation released several years later) seek out both the Irondale Café outside Birmingham, Alabama (the inspiration for the fictional Whistle Stop Café) and the Whistle Stop Café in Juliette, Georgia (which opened after the movie was released and operates in the building used as the eatery in the film) to taste the title dish. As a testament to its popularity, the Irondale claims to serve 600–800 slices (or 60–70 pounds) of fried green tomatoes a day, even 30 years after the novel’s release (Irondale Café, 2017). Further north, visitors have been making the short trek from Boston to Walden Pond for over 150 years to enjoy the lake’s tranquil setting. Those inspired to visit by Thoreau’s transcendental texts, however, undertake the same site-specific activities, but do so with ‘the inward experience of enacting … an imitation of Thoreau’s own withdrawal from organized society’ (Buell, 1989, p. 185). They likely focus on the meditative beauty of Thoreau’s setting and actively disengage from modern life. In turn, the re-enactment of the writer’s experiences by visitors further inscribes the place with literary meaning, setting a ‘prototype for imitation’ (Buell, 1989, p. 176).

Rituals of Remembrance: Substantiating Literary Claims Once inscribed in a location, the importance of site-specific literary performances may eclipse a location’s actual literary roots. Rituals honouring a location’s literary ties may become more identifiable to tourists than the literary work or author who prompted the literary commemorations. In Calaveras County, California, for example, over 10,000 visitors descend on the rural valley town of Angels Camp each year for the Calaveras County Fair and Jumping Frog Jubilee (Calaveras County Fairgrounds, 2016). Visitors

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happily pay the small fee to try their hand at convincing a bullfrog to jump farther than other frogs in the competition. While the celebration commemorates Mark Twain, and the short story he penned in and about the community in 1865, Seaman (2016) found that, although many visitors recognized that Twain was associated with the community, few participants had an accurate understanding of how Twain fit into the celebration or why Twain was such a big icon in the small town. Instead, aside from several easily overlooked references to The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, it was the frogs themselves, not Twain, who took centre stage. The author simply stood as an obligatory, albeit largely ignored, reason for the festival’s centuryold tradition (Seaman, 2016). In 1996, almost 200 years after The Legend of Sleepy Hollow was published, the village of North Tarrytown, New York, legally changed its name to Sleepy Hollow to boost the local economy and memorialize the story by native son and popular writer, Washington Irving. As a result, tourism dramatically increased and the town’s annual Halloween celebration has become so popular officials spend all year planning the month-long festival (Mancuso, 2016). In 2015, one of the town’s signature events (a Jack O’Lantern walk of sorts) attracted more than 150,000 visitors (Hester, 2016). Yet, if hard pressed, one wonders how many tourists would recognize the tradition as having a literary basis. For many, the story of Ichabod Crane is just folklore, a popular tale told each year as a part of a cultural celebration. A cinematic version may remind people there was a story, but in the village of Sleepy Hollow the deep literary links appear to be largely overshadowed by the image of the town as a spooky place to spend an autumn weekend. Thus, while Irving may have provided the hamlet with the authority to claim Halloween as its own and bring in tourists, the text that inspired the events seems to be an afterthought (see Visit Sleepy Hollow, 2017). Similarly, in Key West, Florida, visitors line up at 8:00am during the annual week-long Hemingway Days celebration to purchase red kerchiefs and raffle tickets for chances to ride a full-sized fake plaster bull on wheels, take pictures with Hemingway look-alikes and be chased by mock livestock. Despite these performances, Seaman (2016) found few visitors

could actually articulate why a mock running of the bulls takes place on the island and most had little understanding of how the event was associated with either Hemingway or his work. None the less, anecdotal evidence suggests most people accept Key West as the indisputable home of Hemingway and annually thousands stop off for a tour of the late author’s home. At this point, visitors may or may not have read a book, or may have only a vague notion of the work or the author who penned it (see Herbert, 1996). Once literary-inspired performances become ingrained at a destination, the readership of the tourist is of little consequence. Regardless of whether tourists have the cultural capital to discern how a literary text or its author connects to a ritual enacted in a particular location, their performances work to substantiate the location’s literary identity (see Jamal and Hill, 2004). Their performances further reinforce the claims to a particular work or its writer, and the place as a literary destination. Thus, so long as tourists keep screaming ‘Stella’ in New Orleans in the remembrance of Tennessee Williams, attend poetry readings at City Lights Bookstore in San Francisco à la Kerouac and Ferlinghetti or trek to the Great Plains to stand in a pristine prairie inspired by the works of Laura Ingalls Wilder and Willa Cather, the literary-ness of these locations remains; each subsequent tourist performance contributes to the literary ties that make up an integral piece of each location’s identity as a unique literary place.

Trends and Tourist Performance While literary links may become more popular than meaningful, it is only when they stop being performed that the literary-ness of a destination fades. The location’s literary identity may simply dissolve or be eclipsed by other identifying features of the destination. A few characterized images of an author or a title character may remain, appearing on a faded diner menu or serving as a namesake for a local lodging establishment, but when literature-related tourist performances fade from fashion, so does the identity as a literary place. In some places once heavily associated with literature, visitors and locals alike have moved

Making Literary Places

on to other activities that can be performed at the same destination. As a result, a location’s meaning follows suit; the literary identity is all but lost. In Minnesota for example, the Sinclair Lewis Interpretive Center was recently sold by the city of Sauk Centre and scheduled for demolition. Officials stated the site is better known as a sledding hill by locals and few have any interest in the associated author or his award-winning collection of short stories (Reinan, 2016). Likewise, in Cooperstown, New York, visitors pay little attention to the area’s literary ties. The small town is perhaps best known as the home of the Baseball Hall of Fame, yet the picturesque lakeside village is named after the family of famed early 19th-century author James Fenimore Cooper (MacDougall, 1998). Aside from a nondescript statue in a public park, a golf course moniker and a local art gallery bearing James Fenimore Cooper’s name, few reminders of the famous author remain (Walsh, 2012). Instead, the quaint town is overrun with signs and symbols of its baseball identity. Tourists happily oblige: performing the location as a baseball shrine – perusing shop windows filled with antique sports memorabilia in the hope of finding relics representing a favourite team, using a bat to point to an imaginary outfield and call a home run (à la Babe Ruth) or dressing up in team uniforms for a family photo. In Cooperstown, Cooper’s existence as either a literary or a historic figure seems inconsequential at best, and the town’s literary identity has effectively disappeared. In Maryland, tourists have all but forgotten Edgar Allen Poe. The imagery Poe created in his haunting, primal tales lives on in many things associated with both Baltimore (Poe’s hometown) and the New England region more generally. Most notably, the city’s professional football team is the Ravens (a clear reference to Poe’s famous literary work of the same name). Ironically, the historic legacy of the author suffers from a lack of popular interest. The Edgar Allen Poe house in the city of Baltimore has few visitors and is in financial distress (Taylor, 2011). Tourists simply do not visit the site as they once did, and as a result the city’s literary identity is likely to fade. The downturn in literature-inspired behaviours enacted by tourists may be reflective of an author’s contemporary relevance or place in

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popular culture. Their works may no longer be considered classics, cut from required readings in American high schools and universities, or of little interest to Hollywood, where interest in old literary works is often revived (Eveleth, 2014). While Buell (1989) argued the act of visiting a literary site works to canonize both an author and a text, the opposite also appears to be true. Too few visitors implies a lack of readership, indicating the works produced by a literary icon have lost their allure or that tastes in literature have changed. Or perhaps, an author or the political or social positions conveyed in their books have fallen on the wrong side of history. The Washoe Tribe of California and Nevada, for instance, blocked a proposal to name a Lake Tahoe cove after Mark Twain because of his racist writings about Native Americans and other people of colour, and his historic mistreatment of the natural environment (he started a forest fire while camping at the lake in the late 1800s) (Miller, 2014). Others may have simply been lost to history, overshadowed by trends in popular culture, remembered only as a vague reminder of a story once heard or as someone whose work was somehow related to a recent movie. While some readers may happen upon a forgotten best-seller and seek out an obscure literary place, and the occasional visitor may still wander into an old museum dedicated to a once-popular writer or find themselves reading a plaque noting the literary achievements of a person they have never heard of, a lone tourist cannot sustain a destination’s literary identity. Once the masses have moved on, the literary identity of the destination is often lost to history. Yet, new literary places are created constantly. With the release of every new book exists the possibility of a new location finding literary notoriety.

Conclusion Even in the age of technology, where a variety of media and art forms are consumed in an instant from the palm of our hands, reading remains an extremely popular leisure pastime. In 2016, the Pew Research Center reported 73% of Americans read at least one book in the past year – a statistic that has remained largely

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unchanged since 2012 (Perrin, 2016). That is, 73% of Americans who are introduced to new destinations and new sides of familiar places never seen before. Yet while literature is an undeniably powerful place-making phenomenon, text alone does not create a literary destination. Instead, place meaning is reliant on both the ways we communicate about a location and the ways we act in it, and literary places are no exception. Rather, they are even more susceptible to the changing tastes and habits of contemporary tourists than other heritage places due

to the cultural relevance required to sustain the image of these destinations. Regardless, given society’s increased ability to travel, the world’s increased access to literature, and the popularity of niche tourism, as well as the increased desire among consumers for unique experiences (Pine II and Gilmore, 1998), literature-inspired tourism will surely remain a popular travel endeavour. So long as reading remains a widespread leisure pastime and people travel, new literary destinations will be created around the world as others fade from memory.

References Baerenholdt, J., Haldrup, M., Larsen, J. and Urry, J. (2004) Performing Tourist Places. Ashgate, Aldershot, UK. Bagnell, G. (2003) Performance and performativity at heritage sites. Museum & Society 1(2), 87–103 DOI: https://​doi.​org/​10.​29311%​2Fmas.​v1i2.​17. Baker, A. (2007) Word, image, and national geography: Panorama pamphlets and manifest destiny. In: Bruckner, M. and Hsu, H.L. (eds) American Literary Geographies: Spatial Practice and Cultural Production 1500–1900. University of Delaware Press, Newark, Delaware. Blair, S. (1998) Cultural geography and the place of the literary. American Literary History 10(3), 544–567. DOI: 10.1093/alh/10.3.544. Brown, D. (2003) The Da Vinci Code. Anchor Books, New York. Buell, L. (1989) The Thoreauvian pilgrimage: The structure of an American cult. American Literature 61(2), 175–199. DOI: 10.2307/2926692. Calaveras County Fairgrounds (2016) Frog Jump. Available at: http://www.​frogtown.​org/#!​frog-​jump/​cz6x (accessed 24 May 2019). Dakss, B. (2004) ‘Da Vinci Code’ tourist letdowns. CBS News. Available at: http://www.​cbsnews.​com/​ news/​da-​vinci-​code-​tourist-​letdowns/ (accessed 6 March 2019). Eveleth, R. (2014) Kids actually read the books that movies are based on. The Atlantic. Available at: https://www.​theatlantic.​com/​entertainment/​archive/​2014/​09/​kids-​actually-​read-​the-​books-​that-​movies-​are-​based-​on/​380395/ (accessed 6 March 2019). Flagg, F. (1987) Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café. Ballantine Books, New York. Goffman, E. (1959) The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. Anchor Books, New York. Groth, P. (1997) Frameworks for cultural landscape study. In: Groth, P. and Bressi,T.W. (eds) Understanding Ordinary Landscapes. Yale University Press, New Haven, Connecticut, pp. 1–24. Herbert, D.T. (1996) Artistic and literary places in France as tourist attractions. Tourism Management 17(2), 77–85. DOI: 10.1016/0261-5177(95)00110-7. Herbert, D.T. (2001) Literary places, tourism and the heritage experience. Annals of Tourism Research 28(2), 312–333. DOI: 10.1016/S0160-7383(00)00048-7. Hester, J.L. (2016) In Sleepy Hollow country, a fictional city embraces its destiny. The Atlantic City Lab. Available at: http://www.​citylab.​com/​navigator/​2016/​10/​sleepy-​hollow-​jack-​o-​lantern-​blaze-​halloween/​505046/ (accessed 6 March 2019). Hsu, H.L. (2005) Literature and regional production. American Literary History 17(1). Available at: http://​ english.​ucdavis.​edu/​sites/​english.​ucdavis.​edu/​files/​users/​hlhsu/​Hsu_​LitRegion.​pdf, 36–69. DOI: 10.1093/alh/aji002. Irondale Café (2017) History. Available at: http://www.​irondalecafe.​com/​history/ (accessed 6 March 2019). Iwashita (2006) Media representation of the U.K. as a destination for Japanese tourists. Tourist Studies 6(1), 59–77.

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Jamal, T. and Hill, S. (2004) Developing a framework for indicators of authenticity: the place and space of cultural and heritage tourism. Asia Pacific Journal of Tourism Research 9(4), 353–372. Johnson, N.C. (2004) Fictional journeys: Paper landscapes, tourist trails and Dublin’s literary texts. Social & Cultural Geography 5(1), 91–107. DOI: 10.1080/1464936042000181335. Lagorio, C. (2006) Louvre: ‘Thanks Da Vinci Code’. CBS news. Available at: http://www.​cbsnews.​com/​ news/​louvre-​thanks-​da-​vinci-​code/ (accessed 6 March 2019). Laing, J.H. and Frost, W. (2012) Books and Travel: Inspiration, Quests and Transformations. Channel View Publications, Bristol, UK. Lefebvre, H. (1991) The Production of Space (Trans. D. Nicholson-Smith). Blackwell, Oxford, UK. Litwiller-Berte, L.A. (2007) Geography by destination: rail travel, regional fiction and the cultural production of geographical essentialism. In: Bruckner, M. and Hsu, H.L. (eds) American Literary Geographies: Spatial Practice and Cultural Production 1500–1900. University of Delaware Press, Newark, Delaware. Louvre (n.d.) The da Vinci code: between fiction and fact. The Louvre. Available at: http://www.​louvre.​fr/​ en/​routes/​da-​vinci-​code (accessed 6 March 2019). Lowe, H.I. (2012) Mark Twain’s Homes and Literary Tourism. University of Missouri Press, Columbia, Missouri. MacDougall, H.C. (1998) Making a place historic: the Coopers and Cooperstown. James Fenimore Cooper Society. Available at: http://​external.​oneonta.​edu/​cooper/​articles/​informal/​hugh-​historic.​ html (accessed 6 March 2019). Maclean, N. (1976) A River Runs Through It and Other Stories. University of Chicago Press, Chicago. Mancuso, A. (2016) Sleepy Hollow: surrounded by history, and legends. The New York Times. Available at: https://www.​nytimes.​com/​2016/​10/​02/​realestate/​sleepy-​hollow-​surrounded-​by-​history-​and-​legends.​html (accessed 6 March 2019). Miller, J.R. (2014) Plan to name Lake Tahoe cove after Mark Twain scrapped after tribe complains. Fox News. Available at: http://www.​foxnews.​com/​us/​2014/​05/​19/​plan-​to-​name-​lake-​tahoe-​cove-​after-​ mark-​twain-​scrapped-​after-​tribe-​complains.​html (accessed 6 March 2019). Mitchell, K. (2016) ‘Twilight’ tourism: How Forks, Washington, is still enjoying a vampire boom. Yahoo Movies. Available at: https://www.​yahoo.​com/​movies/​twilight-​tourism-​how-​forks-​wash-​is-​still-​enjoying-​a-​vampire-​boom-​145018029.​html (accessed 6 March 2019). Perrin, A. (2016) Book reading 2016. Pew Research Center. Available at: http://www.​pewinternet.​org/​ 2016/​09/​01/​book-​reading-​2016/ (accessed 6 March 2019). Pine II, B.J. and Gilmore, J.H. (1998) Welcome to the experience economy. Harvard Business Review 74(4), 97–105. Pocock, D.C.D. (ed.) (1981) Humanistic Geography and Literature: Essays on the Experience of Place. Routledge, New York. Reinan, J. (2016) Sauk centre is booting hometown legend Sinclair Lewis to make room for a chain store. Star Tribune. Available at: http://www.​startribune.​com/​sauk-​centre-​is-​booting-​hometown-​legend-​ sinclair-​lewis-​to-​make-​room-​for-​a-​chain-​store/​393189071/ (accessed 6 March 2019). Rickly-Boyd, J.M., Knudsen, D.C., Braverman, L.C. and Metro-Roland, M.M. (2014) Tourism, Performance & Place. Ashgate, Aldershot, UK. Santesso, A. (2004) The birth of the birthplace: Bread Street and literary tourism before Stratford. ELH 71(2). Available at: https://www.​press.​jhu.​edu/​journals/​elh, 377–403. DOI: 10.1353/elh.2004.0032. Seaman, A.N. (2016) Exploring the Connections between Literary Places, Literary Texts, and Tourist Performance. Clemson University, Clemson, South Carolina. Shortridge, J.R. (1991) The concept of the place-defining novel in American popular culture. The Professional Geographer 43(3), 280–291. DOI: 10.1111/j.0033-0124.1991.00280.x. Soja, E.W. (1989) Postmodern Geographies: The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory. Verso, London. Talley, R.T. (2013) Spatiality. Routledge, London. Taun, Y.F. (1977) Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Taylor, K. (2011) Fiscal woes haunting Baltimore Poe house. The New York Times. Available at: http:// www.​nytimes.​com/​2011/​08/​08/​arts/​edgar-​allan-​poe-​house-​in-​baltimore-​faces-​closing.​html (accessed 6 March 2019). Visit Sleepy Hollow (2017) Great Jack O'Lantern Blaze. Available at: http://​visitsleepyhollow.​com/​things-​ to-​do/​great-​jack-​olantern-​blaze/ (accessed 6 March 2019).

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Walsh, V.A. (2012) James Fenimore Cooper: Cooperstown’s Literary Ghost. Literary Traveler. Available at: http://www.​literarytraveler.​com/​articles/​james-​fenimore-​cooper-​cooperstowns-​literary-​ghost/ (accessed 6 March 2019). Watson, N. (2006) The Literary Tourist. Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke, UK. Westover, P.A. (2012) Inventing the London of literary tourists: Walking the romantic city in Leigh Hunt’s ‘Wishing Cap’ essays. European Romantic Review 23(1), 1–19. DOI: 10.1080/10509585.2012.639180.

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Tourism of Literary Writing: The Brazilian Author as an International Tourist in the Amores Expressos Collection

Humberto Fois-Braga* Tourism Department, Universidade Federal de Juiz de Fora (UFJF), Brazil

Introduction: Outlining the Concept of Literary Tourism Writing Traditionally, the connection between tourism and literature is acknowledged and studied through the lens of supply offered by the destinations and organizations of the tourism sector, that is, by the ‘literary attractions’ (historic house museums, city tours, festivals, etc.). However, beyond the study of ‘literary tourism’, we suggest a ‘tourism of literary writing’, understood as ‘field work’ (that is, the journey to a tourist destination) undertaken by the authors before they start focusing on the ‘office work’ (the writing of their literary works). Such a type of tourism creates a sensibility of the author to his writing and thus he temporarily substitutes introspection of the written act for the outdoor activities and for the relationship with alterity/ otherness, developing ‘experiments’ in a real-life laboratory, that is, ‘mining experiences’ that will later on ‘glide’ into their creative writings. In order to do so, we propose a new look at the interface of tourism and literature, inverting the traditional hierarchy between these two terms: in the ‘tourism of literary writing’, the trip pre-dates the work, contrary to what happens with ‘literary tourism’, in which the existence

of an author and a literary work is assumed to antedate the travel. Consequently, in the first instance, the writer is the tourist himself, whereas in the latter the reader becomes a traveller. Perhaps one of the most visible forms of this touristic practice may be the artistic and literary residency, traditionally organized by cultural and/or renowned academic institutions, which are present in many cities of the world. Such organizations may offer residencies with grants and/or a per diem to many artists who stay for a season to develop a series of activities, aiming to exchange professional practices that improve their techniques and artistic sensibility. Since it is a space–time experience that encourages creation of ideas, the residency presupposes the travelling and a sort of introspection of the artist in his creative and educational process (Domingos Candeias, 2009). However, there are many types of tourism of literary writing that emerge from individual initiatives, with the authors investing their savings to partake in such inspirational trips and to take a technical inventory that replaces the construction of arguments, descriptions and the setting of their future works. There are myriad contemporary Brazilian writers who make use of such resources, such as Lisboa (2014), who funded her own travel to Japan in order to write

*​humfois@​gmail.​com © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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Rakushisha. We also find this articulation between travel and authorship in the works of João Gilberto Noll, Reinaldo Moraes, Daniel Galera, Bernardo Carvalho, among others. The difference between both practices is that in the ‘traditional residency’ there is a support structure to welcome the artist-tourist; in other forms, which we have named ‘alternative residency’, the travellers leave without such support in their destination. The traditional residency only takes place in some cities, usually those that have supporting institutions (e.g. The Berlin Artists-In-Residence Program, DAAD); conversely, the alternative residencies, not restricted by the supporting apparatus and monetary attractions, are free to take place in any city the artist or supporting organizations deems interesting. Regardless of the model, the tourism of literary writing is based on three acts of experience: (i) the triggers (the act of setting off on a journey); (ii) the mining (performance/execution of the trip); and (iii) the gliding (an internal transformation due to the trip). First, there is a motivation and a structure that make the departure possible (i.e. the experience triggers). Later, there are the experiences in the territories of transit and of arrival (i.e. a mining of experiences), put into practice by the travellers who seek inspiration, fictionalized in their artistic works (i.e. a gliding of the experiences). The ‘mining of experiences’ is related to the field study undertaken by the traveller-author, where and when he builds his repertoire (through inventory, inspirations, research, etc.), which later glides into the writing of his books. In other words: it is about the ways the traveller-author occupies and experiences the city that attracts his aesthetic interests, constituting a time-spatiality often different from the one adopted by the mass tourists who are organized in traditional tourist circuits, since it sets aside some time for the flânerie for research and to register their own ideas and feelings. In the tourism of literary writing there is a presumption: the traveller exists before the author, in order to travel and reference what is real, thereby reaping personal experiences which will (sub)consciously pervade his writing. There is an external reality that must glide into the novels/poetry/essays/etc., as well as an appreciation of the subjectivity of the traveller: it is only

possible to talk about something that was previously experienced by the author himself. Finally, in this search for inspiration and a referential repertoire for the writing, the trip comes before the creation of the ideas and narratives. Normally, the ‘mining of experiences’ does not include the action of writing the texts and thus functions as the backstage of narrative, being a pre-creation act. The organization of the narrative, the construction of the text, normally happens when the traveller returns home and becomes the persona of the author, a moment in which the ‘sliding of experiences’ really come to fruition. Thus we believe that the artistic language that arises from the tourism of literary writing is allegorical in a Benjaminian aspect, since the travel experience is redone in the creative writing. The traveller now becomes the author and thus the trip does not end when the author arrives home; it continues with the writing of their literary work. In other words: in the tourism of literary writing, the traveller does not end his journey at the destination, but rather he transforms himself into an author on his return. So this kind of tourism generates a lack of synchrony between the time of the trip, the writing and the publishing of the work. Next we will study the ‘experience triggers’, since we consider them to be the most important acts for the emergence of the tourism of literary writing. And such triggers take place from five decisions that must be made, whether through the writer’s independent travels or through the organizers of such grants of official residency: (i) the model for financing the trip; (ii) the decision about which cities to visit; (iii) the selection of the participating authors; (iv) time spent by the travellers in the inspiring destinations; and (v) the definition of the mission/compensation demanded from the authors-travellers. To exemplify these triggers, we are going to analyse the multimedia project Amores Expressos1, due to the fact that it received the bulk of its criticism for these five aforementioned elements. Developed by RT Features, a Brazilian Entertainment Production Company, in partnership with Companhia das Letras, a publishing house, the project constituted a lucrative model of tourism of literary writing. In other words, it made use of inspirational travel and field studies as a strategy to gather national authors, which

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was innovative in the cultural and editorial markets in Brazil. The project, whose concept came from producer Rodrigo Teixeira, founder and director of RT Features, with the curatorship of writer João Paulo Cuenca, started in 2007, by sending 17 Brazilian authors to 17 cities in all corners of the world: Paris, Istanbul, São Paulo, Mumbai, Shanghai, St Petersburg, Berlin, Havana, Buenos Aires, Dublin, Tokyo, Cairo, New York, Lisbon, Sydney, Mexico City and Prague. These travelling-writers were expected to spend one month in the city to which they were sent, gathering information and experiencing the city. The intention was feeding a blog with their travel narratives, generating a documentary with episodes broadcast by a Brazilian channel and, finally, when they returned to Brazil, writing a novel that told a love story that took place in that city, which would be adapted into a movie. We will see that the experience triggers of this project have faced criticism from the cultural and intellectual métier, because of public financing of private travels, the elitist choice of tourist destinations to be visited and transformed into the setting for the novels, the selection of the travelling-writers, and the theme ‘Love Story’, which was considered a literary cliché. We can understand the origin of, and the polemic related to, the project from a documentary analysis of the articles published throughout the years in the main Brazilian newspapers and magazines, namely Folha de S. Paulo, O Globo and Veja (a weekly magazine), which are all national publications and influential enough to change the narrative angle of important issues in the public arena. Before its emergence as an object of academic research, the controversies surrounding the project appeared in the media, due to coverage of the intense feuds that arose. It is worth mentioning that the project continues to be considered a reference for others which follow(ed) and as pioneering a rather contemporary style of literature writing, especially in regard to using what we define as ‘tourism of literary writing’, in order to weaken the limits between art, author experience and writing. The Amores Expressos project has the merit of commercially organizing this tendency of ‘tourism of literary writing’, illuminating the convergence between travelling and literary creation. In interviews, Rodrigo Teixeira even

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mentioned that his initiative received praise abroad: ‘the foreigners value it more. I’ve received emails from editors and authors praising the idea of travellers and the fact that it was done aiming to adapt them to the big screen’ (Cozer, 2011, p. 6). Nationally, the project has become a reference for other collections focused on this type of meshing of tourism and creative writing. The project Redescobrindo o Brasil (Rediscovering Brazil, in English), which aimed to spawn 14 novels, to be published by the Casa da Palavra Publishing House, from the experience of 14 authors who would each spend 15 days in a Brazilian capital, was called ‘a humble offspring of Amores Expressos’ (Cozer, 2011, p. 6). In turn, the series Pequenos Exílios (Little Exiles, in English), from Dobra Publishing, was dubbed by Guia Folha as ‘Amores Expressos of the Poor’, since it is expected to spawn short novels whose writers ‘had a radical experience on foreign soil’ (Paulo, 2015, p. 11). The Que Viagem (What a trip!, in English) collection, thought up by writer Marcelino Freire and published by the independent label Edith, was identified as a ‘parody of the Amores Expressos collection’ (Brás, 2012), since it gave a ‘jocose answer’ by sending ten ‘unknown authors to places “where writers really go”’ (Cozer, 2011, p. 6), such as ‘Hell’, ‘Out in the Boondocks’, ‘Where nobody ever asked you to be’, ‘Beyond’ and many other humorous places, filled with puns in Portuguese. All these collections were based on travels that used Amores Expressos as a reference. Taking an inventory of the publications, so far ten books have been released, two were rejected2 and five are still being written3. The first book was released in 2008, called Cordilheira (Buenos Aires) by Daniel Galera. The second and third books came out in 2009: Estive em Lisboa e Lembrei de Você (Lisbon), by Luiz Ruffato; and O Filho da Mãe (St Petersburg), by Bernardo Carvalho. In 2010, two more were released: O Único Final Feliz Para Uma História de Amor é um Acidente (Tokyo), by João Paulo Cuenca, and Do Fundo do Poço se vê a Lua (Cairo), by Joca Reiners Terron. 2011 saw the release of O Livro de Praga – Narrativas de Amor e Arte (Prague), by Sérgio Sant’Anna, and Nunca vai embora (Havana), by Chico Mattoso. Finally, in 2013, three more works came to light: Barreira (Istanbul), by Amilcar Bettega Barbosa, Digam ao Satã que o Recado Foi Entendido (Dublin), by

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Daniel Pellizzari, and Ithaca Road (Sydney), by Paulo Scott. The next part of the chapter will analyse the experience triggers of the multimedia project Amores Expressos, guiding them through the following questions: To what extent is travelling necessary to write a novel, since we assume the experience of the traveller is an act that precedes the language of the author? And what would be, then, the role of an editorial project as a mediating filter of this transformation of experience into writing, while imposing certain narrative directives?

The Selection of Authors to Participate in the Initiative It was on 17 March 2007, in an article in the Culture section of the newspaper Folha de S. Paulo, that Amores Expressos started to be associated with a controversial project in the Brazilian literary circuit. With the title ‘Bonde das Letras’, the article by Cadão Volpato commented on the initiative by entertainment producer Rodrigo Teixeira (founding director of RT Features) with editorial curatorship of writer João Paulo Cuenca, together with the publishing company Companhia das Letras. It planned to send 16 authors4 to many world metropolises so they could spend a month living and experiencing these cities, and, when back home, write a love story that took place in the cities visited. Budgeted at R$1.2 million (app. US$300,000), including the price of tickets, production of documentaries and the publishing of the books, the organizers would ask for public funding, through tax breaks from the famous Lei Rouanet (Rouanet Law, in English) via the Ministry of Culture. With this article, it was made public that the project was not only literary, with that being only one element of the multimedia production chain planned by Rodrigo Teixeira: the travel experience should spawn two immediate products guided by the narrative aesthetics – a blog and a documentary, both seeking to explore the experience in transit of the author. In sequence, there would be the release of novels, and, finally, the transposition of such literary narratives (in)to the seventh art.

The day after the article was published by Folha, writer Marcelo Mirisola, who was not part of the collection, spearheaded criticism of the project, with the following comment printed in the Painel do Leitor (Reader Panel, in English) section: I am going to gather my party friends and request some money from the Rouanet Law. That is precisely what Rodrigo Teixeira and writer João Paulo Cuenca have done – and got R$1.2 million (‘Bonde das Letras’, Ilustrada, 17/03). And, just so the whole thing does not seem so biased, I will include, besides me, one or two hot shots above any suspicion in the mix. After that, it suffices to find a generous and idealistic editor. If he is a partner in a bank, so much the better. Only one detail was missing from the article: each ‘writer’ will pocket R$10,000 (approximately US$2900), aside from lodging, tickets and transportation around this big world. One month of the good life. I hope they write great books, and tell their stories during the next party of Paraty[5], of the following year. This is how literature is done in Brazil. (Mirisola, 2007b, p. A3)

New accusations erupted about the criteria of the selection process of the participating authors, and the titles of some articles in the press were overtly provocative in this sense, such as ‘Bonde das letras’ (Volpato, 2007, p. E1), ‘Bonde do barulho’ (Simões and Colombo, 2007b, p. E1) and ‘Teco-teco da alegria’ (Teixeira, 2007, p. 113). All of these carried a strong sense of ‘private club’, since the term Bonde may refer to a party, or a close-knit group, while Teco-teco da alegria might allude to a children’s group from the 1980s, in the sense that it was all a great party. Rodrigo Teixeira sought to defend his initiative, saying ‘no one questions a movie director about which artists he is going to use in his film. The project is mine, and I have all the right to make use of the law, since it exists’, to which Cuenca added that he was not friends with many of the authors chosen for the project, ‘but wouldn’t necessarily call them foes. Nobody wants to work with foes’ (Cuenca apud Simões and Colombo, 2007a, p. E4). And the controversy continued over the following days, with Mirisola returning to the newspaper to say ‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The criterion is friendship’ (Mirisola, 2007a, p. A2). Some years

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later, Cuenca blamed the negative reception to the project on ‘jealousy’ by those who felt left out (Guedes, 2011, p. 32). What is being discussed, in reality, is the perception that the authors who were invited to participate are part of the same circle of friends, making the literary project one of fraternal bonds, something that is perceptible when the initiative was pejoratively dubbed ‘bonde’ and ‘teco-teco’. There is nothing new about this attitude, since the very idea of literary field defended by Bourdieu (1996) or the one of creative groups defended by De Masi (2003) already brings, in itself, this perception of an art that is developed from an aestheticization of the policy of friendship. The issue here would be the public funding being invested in one type of private action, financing a fraternity that, by sharing similar values (all writers are from the middle class, who live in the main urban centres of Brazil and are, in their vast majority, white and male), would reinforce a rather homogeneous view of the world and would continue to legitimize artists who are already famous in the market of culture. On the other hand, what Mirisola defined as a sort of collusion and Cuenca as ‘jealousy’ shows nothing more that skirmishes that took place in the literary field, whose groups – which are constantly rearranged – take the discussion about arts beyond the aesthetic question, since it is pervaded by a political field that generates feuds and is based on friendships, grudges, intrigue, and is, in its essence, excessively human. Besides this, the project happened without any alteration in the choice of authorstravellers. RT Features kept all the previously selected names, because in the end the initiative was funded with company money and from sponsors, without government help from the Rouanet Law.

The Financing of Travel The nerve centre and most controversial point of the whole project is its submission for public financing through the Lei Rouanet de Incentivo à Cultura (Rouanet Law for Culture Incentive, in English), especially when the amount was excessively high relative to traditional editorial

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projects. Basically, the criticism was based on the discomfort of seeing public funding pay for trips of a group of friends to specific sought-after tourist destinations, financing a project from the private sector that does not represent the plurality of perceptions about the theme of love, when what is expected of such public institutions is to finance groups that do not have enough symbolic and economic capital to reach visibility in the market. In defence of the initiative, Luiz Schwarcz, founder of the Companhia das Letras publishing house, stated that the use of the law was positive because it would incentivize culture in an area – literature – that is threatened by a lack of resources, mainly while shedding light on new authors (Simões and Colombo, 2007a, p. E4). Rodrigo Teixeira, the creator, stressed his opinion in an interview for O Globo: My impression is that there is a sort of uneasiness because the writers themselves do not know that this path exists, that the Rouanet admits tax breaks for literature projects’ ... ‘Tax breaks for cinema projects and the theater might be easier, because you have famous thespians involved, but in literature, with a good project, you also find companies that are interested. Today, however, the majority of books written with support from the Law are of Art, not fiction. (Teixeira apud Condé, 2007, p. 02)

The interview pointed to an issue that was beyond the project Amores Expressos, and it was about the Brazilian cultural market and the financing structure of the law itself: To what point would it be valid to fund private trips and projects or even renowned artists, ignoring a coherence between approved projects and a public policy of culture? In that respect, Amores Expressos was only the expression, the symptom, of a problem with the public policy of artistic creation and Brazilian literature. That is, artists who are already famous have easier access to funds, which creates a virtuous circle and a legitimation of their presence in the Brazilian cultural scene, while those who are on the sidelines can rarely, or only with great difficulty, project themselves nationally with their peripheral voices via governmental funding. Some critics even suggested that the project Amores Expressos should be submitted to the Ministry of Tourism and not Culture (Cozer, 2011, p. 6). This shows that the discussions in

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the public arena sought to constitute zones of morality, while trying to answer the following question: What types of trip could be financed through public funding? According to writer Ademir Assunção (apud Simões and Colombo, 2007a, p. E4), ‘the market should make it available to itself, not to be moved by public funding. If it is to participate in book fairs or debates in universities abroad, ok’. In this sense, the trips are only justifiable if they serve the promotion of the author, his works and ideas, but never to incentivize the writing. This same perspective was adopted and amplified by the Movimento Literature Urgente (MLU – Movement for Urgent Literature, in English): Created in 2004, the MLU delivered in 2005 to the Ministry of Culture a manifesto signed by 181 writers, in which they asked for the implementation of grants of incentive to literary creation, exchange programs with other countries, literary expeditions around Brazil, governmental purchases of books directly from the author, among other things. The first members of the MLU were ‘new’ authors (Marcelino Freire, Ademir Assunção, Joca Terron), but established names such as Milton Hatoum and Moacyr Scliar also signed the document. (Millen, 2007)

For the MLU, travels of creation (which is referred to, by us, as ‘tourism of literary writing’) could also be funded by the government, so long as they are integrated with a public policy of promotion of Brazilian literature. However, after such controversies about the use of public money, the creators gave up submitting the project to the Lei Rouanet, and instead funded them from their own pockets: RT Features covered R$510,000 (around US$150,000), for the trips, the image rights for the recording of the documentaries and the copyrights for the transposition of the works for the cinema: ‘each author, aside from the trip with a one-month stay and a little per diem of 100 euros a day, will receive 10,000 Reais (approximately 2,900 dollars) for the audiovisual rights of the book’ (Teixeira, 2007, p. 113). The investment made in this ‘tourism of literary writing’ – financing the authors who should travel, visit, reside, write and publish – was a calculated risk, since the products originated from the published novels would be a source of revenue for RT Features. As Rodrigo Teixeira put it: ‘if it all

works out, with these two films alone [based on the books Cordilheira and O Filho da Mãe], I can already pay the costs and make a profit’ (Teixeira apud Almeida, 2013b, p. E4 [our insertion]). Companhia das Letras was responsible for the costs of editing the books, having priority and prerogative to refuse originals. Then, the discussion about funding of the project Amores Expressos was softened, but the structural problems of the law of fiscal incentive were not solved. The reporter (Teixeira, 2007, p. 113) who ended up doing a meta-analysis of the criticism of the Lei Rouanet and the criteria of selection of authors involved in the project, concluded that ‘incapable of producing a strictly literary polemic, the Brazilian authors now fight for plane tickets. Paid by you, the tax-payer’. Summarizing the development of the discussions about the collection Amores Expressos in the newspapers Folha de S. Paulo and O Globo, we can see how each of these media outlets approached the topic: if in both papers the article was mainly in the Culture section (Ilustrada & Ilustríssima in Folha, Prosa & Verso and Segundo Caderno in O Globo), in O Globo, the project was referred to twice in the social column Gente Boa, written by Joaquim Ferreira dos Santos (Santos, 2007a, b), in notices mentioning the trip of authors en route to their one month abroad. Here, aside from making the author a personality who is featured in social columns, the trip also gets an air of social status – not only a project in the cultural sections of papers, but present in other more mundane sections. However, to Azevedo, in his blog hosted by Veja Magazine, ‘the article about Amores Expressos should be found in the economy or police sections. Or maybe, run the news together with, I don’t know, the financing lines that BNDES[6] is opening for Sugar Mill businessmen or the pages reserved for scams and stories of con artists’ (Azevedo, 2007). From what has been said in the previous paragraphs, public financing of the project mobilized Brazilian critics, although the question was eventually solved through private financing. What must be understood is that Amores Expressos catalyzed a much broader discussion about the ethical and moral limits involving public financing in projects developed by large companies.

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Deciding the Cities to Be Visited In the case of Amores Expressos, the choice of cities participating in the project also encouraged controversy, with the cities chosen being labelled as part of the ‘Elizabeth Arden Circuit’ (Simões and Colombo, 2007a, p. E4), a term from the diplomatic world used to refer to cities that, due to their economic and cultural prestige, are preferred by all diplomats. When we observe the geographical distribution of the 17 destinations selected, we can see that six of them are situated in Europe, five in the Americas, four in Asia, one in Oceania and another one in Africa. It is noticeable that they include capital cities, which are connected with a cosmopolitanism and a centrality in the global imaginary. Consequently, it is also noticeable that cities from peripheral countries or ones that face deep human dramas (e.g. war and famine) were not included. The writer Ricardo Lísias took the initiative to ask: ‘why won’t anyone go to “Black Africa”? Is there not love in the Gaza Strip? What about in the Cité Soleil, in Haiti?’ (Lísias apud Simões and Colombo, 2007b, p. E4). Once again, João Paulo Cuenca came out to defend the choices, saying that they were based on two premises: ‘the market, that is, the curiosity which a city such as Tokyo arouses in readers. And the aspect of identification of the city with the work of the author: Joca Reiners Terron has a relation with Cairo. Sérgio Sant’Anna, with Prague. There is also a subtle aesthetical choice there […]’ (Cuenca apud Simões and Colombo, 2007a, p. E4). And he continued, in another interview, stating that the cities were associated with writers taking into account different questions, ‘some out of affinity, others by misunderstandings and discomfort’ (Cuenca apud Guedes, 2011, p. 32). Thus, Cuenca highlights that some cities would better attract the attention of readers-consumers than others, as well as have better conditions of literary creation visà-vis certain writers, since they would develop affinities or discomfort with the place. Obviously, the editors defined such cities based on market criteria, but there is also the Bourdieusian ‘homology effect’ operating in these selections: in the definition of the capitals, there is the capture of a shared collective imaginary between the creators of the project and the

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intended audience, all of them Brazilian, part of the middle or higher class, residents in big urban centres and with a high level of education. All of them share the same values related with these choices: the cities chosen for the project are important centres in the world network of contemporary commercial and social transactions, all of them are part of international tourist routes which inspire images of exoticism, sophistication, erudition and dépaysement. They are integrated with the current flows of mobility, and although novelized, they are still places of appeal to visitation and identification for distinct readers. They are, thus, international cities, found in favourable places on the shelves of bookstores dedicated to tourist guides, which now slide into the national section of romance novels. However, there was also counter-criticism, with columnists and intellectuals seeing the aforementioned comments made by Ricardo Lísias as an absurd association between the literary craft and suffering, since ‘it seems that some would only consider the project acceptable if the travelers went to poor and inhospitable places, with scarce possibilities of fun’ (Simões and Colombo, 2007b, p. E4). The opinion was shared by Azevedo (2007), who also criticized Lísias for suggesting that Amores Expressos should have ‘a true mark of misery’, demanding that ‘the writer must suffer at least a little’, meaning that he or she should be sent to places considered dangerous and/or poor. To travel in order to inspire, but not to any destination, since the premise was that each city visited would be capable of awakening some sort of passion and inspiration in its visitors, which would condition and mould the writing. This is why Sérgio Sant’Anna, a famous writer included in the project, would go to ‘beautiful places which inspire love, such as Prague’, while suggesting that Mirisola, a fierce critic of the project and one of those excluded from the selection, should go ‘write a love story in Transylvania’ (Sant’Anna apud Rodrigues, 2007b). Here, it becomes clear the construction of the imaginary of how each destination would inspire a type of writing: that of a romantic love in Prague and a vampire-themed one in Transylvania. Without a welcoming institution that would offer these writers a structured artistic residency, in this type of ‘tourism of literary writing’ it was the city itself that became a

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legitimizer of such ‘field laboratory’. In other words: if in the traditional residency, the status of welcoming institution encompasses or attenuates the importance of the city where it is located, in Amores Expressos it is the city itself that comes first, and not the institution. It then becomes a pivotal space for the ‘mining of experiences’. More than an institution, it was in the streets of these cities where the writers spent their days. As it can be seen in Amores Expressos, it is not the arrival but rather the departure that is the most important aspect in this type of ‘alternative residence’ described in this study. Who welcomes the travelling artist? Without a specific agenda, or a list of activities to be performed, the artists spend their days wandering around the city, disconnected from any institutional support in their destination, following their own personal rhythms. All of those aspects made the discussions about the cities chosen for the project even more important, since the ‘tourism of literary writing’ was understood by the critics as simply 30 days of paid vacation, as opposed to 30 days of literary field work. As Marcelo Mirisola stated, those writers, ‘party buddies’, would be given ‘a month of the good life’ (Simões and Colombo, 2007b, p. E1).

The Length of Stay of the Travellers at the Inspiring Destinations But, if the destinations inspire the writers in the most diverse ways, the period of 30 days set aside for the ‘mining of experience’ was considered to be too short by one of the most important literary critics in Brazil. Silviano Santiago talked about it: The Project Amores Expressos [...] is not free, although I don’t like the collection. I like the initiative to push the young writer towards an idea that goes beyond the borders of our nation. And how do you push them? Making them live one month in another country and coming back to write a book. How much do you learn/know about a different country, in just thirty days? That is where I start to criticize the Project. But the pushing part, I approve. It doesn’t mean that books about country matters should not be written. It’s not that. I just feel that we should broaden the horizons of the text. In

order to do so, one does not need to necessarily go to another country. The number of works from Argentinian, French or North-American literature is wonderful. It allows the Brazilian author to open his text and receive support from beyond the national borders. (Santiago, 2011)

The literary critic disapproved of the length of the stay and even questioned the need to travel in order to write a novel that broadens the horizons of texts. It seemed to him that the reading of classics from other cultures would be more apt for this aesthetic and theme than the travel experience; in other words, for those authors who wish to go beyond the national literature, being a reader is more important than being a tourist. In fact, without a clear agenda of activities in the destination, to experience the city in the rhythm and the way they see fit, we could expand Santiago’s discussion and ask: Are 30 days too little or too much time? The answer should be conditioned to an explanation about which field functions these travellers should carry out. We know that the 30 days were defined from financial and time questions needed to transform the experiences of travelling-authors in a spectacle to be consumed in blogs and in documentaries, as seen before. The title of the collection brings this entanglement of significations into our debate: Amores (Loves) would reference the theme of the books; Expressos (Express) because the experiences of these authors in these cities were conditioned to only one month. The same way that mass tourism is criticized, there was criticism of the speed of experiences allowed through this tourism of literary writing. On the other hand, such a renowned literary critic casts a doubt: before asking ourselves if 30 days is a lot or a little, we should ask if travelling is really necessary to write a novel inspired by and taking place in an unknown territoriality (never visited) by the author. We do not defend that travelling is necessary to write a novel; Chico Buarque de Hollanda, for instance, wrote Budapeste without ever visiting the European city, making use of guides, manuals and the drawing of maps to build his literary Budapest (Buarque, 2003). However, it should be taken into consideration that ‘field work’ is a fashionable trend in the process of internationalization of arguments and

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scenery that encompasses the contemporary Brazilian novels. In Brazilian literature history, travel reports of European travellers from the 19th century served as the foundation of an external eye for the nation, allowing for a way to interpret and write the state of being Brazilian (thus called Brazilianity). With the current trend of international ‘tourism of literary writing’ in the 21st century we see the writers themselves setting off on this journey to highlight the strangeness and to look at Brazil ‘from the outside’. As the critic Karl Erik Schøllhammer states, Amores Expressos characterizes ‘a sort of inverted exoticism of the globalized Brazil, now an emitter of tourist flows and of nomadic artists to all corners of the world, while before, it used to be the target of foreign eyes’ (Schøllhammer, 2010, p. 4). Finally, this type of international tourism starts a discussion about the place occupied by contemporary Brazilian authors, now inserted in global cultural flows. Their novels, made from international experiences, problematized the very canons of Brazilian literature. The literary critic and researcher Heloísa Buarque de Hollanda, in an interview about Amores Expressos, stated: ‘we all know the impact of travelling on the imagination and the daily perspective of things, a new routine, a new language, a certain exile’ (Hollanda apud Guedes, 2011, p. 34). Following this same path, Rodrigo Teixeira saw the travels of the writers as ‘a way to further broaden the minds of authors, regardless of the quality of the material that is going to be delivered’ (Teixeira apud Rodrigues, 2007a). However, this was not a unanimous view, since heavy criticism emerged challenging to what extent the trips were necessary for artistic creation and stimulus: But what needs to be said and is far from the discussions about financing and incentives for the projects of artistic creation is an even more polemic topic: To invent a love story happening in São Paulo, Buenos Aires, Mexico City, Havana, Lisbon, Cairo, Mumbai, Shanghai, Saint Petersburg, Berlin, Dublin, Paris, Tokyo, New York, Sydney and Prague is it necessary to physically travel? To pretend completely, as the poet Pessoa, the pain (or the love) that you so strongly feel, is it necessary to have something beyond the ‘Mill and art’ as Camões

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proposed? In order for it to be believable, does the writer need something more than a powerful imagination and what was sedimented as a reader in his memory? In order to fable, is it necessary to experiment? To invent a great love, is it necessary to experience it? (Rumores e Ruidos, 2012)

The article ends with these questions, maybe previously answered by Veja magazine: ‘writing is the cheapest of activities: all it takes is pen and pencil to dedicate to it. Public money to build and equip libraries, maybe. But never to finance literary tourism, even if it is à la Xavier Maistre, on a trip around the bedroom’ (Teixeira, 2007, p. 113). In fact, without a clear agenda of activities and an organization to welcome them, these tourist-writers were not certain how to fill their 30 days, which harmed the understanding of the need to travel. As Volpato (2007, p. E1) explained the project ‘16 Brazilian authors en route to 16 different destinations in the world, to experience something – anything –, come back and write a book’ [our emphasis]. Loose and detached from an organization (universities, cultural institutions, etc.) where they landed, the justification for the travel in search of a pragmatic objective (a new technique, the building of a network, etc.) was substituted by the subjectivity of a certain ‘search for an inspiration’. The academic argument of travel writings being based on official literary residency was, in the case of Amores Expressos, substituted by the ideal of the trip that transforms and inspires, which led to the contestation of both the length of the stay and the need for the trip itself. Thus, if the traditional residencies are praised, are the alternatives seen as negative, since it would be travelling for the sake of travelling? Finally, does the trip itself inspire the writer? How could one measure the impact of such a trip on literary works? Without extending the discussion, since it would be part of a study of ‘mining of experience’, we can see that these critiques about the duration of the trip and even to question its need were based on the speech of ‘inspiration’. However, other activities were carried out by the authors in these cities where they disembarked: beyond the subjectivity which pervades the act of ‘inspiration’, there was also a technical basis for their field work, mainly because many sought

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to read, study, experience the city in order to construct the narrative arguments with the atmosphere of these places, as well as to make an inventory of names, places, establishments, equipment, etc. to add the information to the novels, constituting in their works a descriptive referencing of reality. Also, some took the time of stay in order to build professional networks and conduct professional experiments, giving lectures at universities, attending events, etc. What is certain is that none of these 17 travellers had any problems throughout the 30 days they spent ‘mining experiences’, which made João Paulo Cuenca, curator of the project, ‘celebrate the fact that none of them had “disappeared, died or been kidnapped”’ (Simões, 2008, p. E8).

Defining the Mission/Compensations Demanded From the Writer-Traveller ‘Sixteen writers traveled to sixteen big metropolises of the planet to fulfill a mission’. That is the introductory sentence to the trailer that promotes the series and documentaries of Amores Expressos. But what would their so-called mission be? Technically, it would be to search for a love story taking place in their assigned destination, where they stayed for 30 days. However, the semantics of the word ‘mission’ brings with it a subconscious history of exploring, difficulties and dedication, in other words, it feeds the imagination about a ‘quest’ structured after Campbell (1949) Hero’s Journey. The aforementioned "mission" can be understood as a sort of repayment, by the travellers, for benefiting from the project. However, on the need to write a novel that spoke about ‘love’, the Veja magazine article casts its dose of sarcasm: ‘sixteen Brazilian authors will each travel to a different city of the world, from New York to Shanghai, in search for inspiration for – look how sweet – a love story’ (Teixeira, 2007, p. 113) [our emphasis]. It was up to Mirisola to spearhead the criticism that, later on, became widespread: ‘How is it that, in 2007, a writer can accept a proposal to write a love story in Paris? That is simply public money funding clichés.’ In the same article, Cuenca counter-argued, saying that the theme would not be clichéd,

since each writer would bring his new perspective to the discussion, which would help build a mosaic of probabilities of love in the contemporaneity: ‘Adriana Lisboa [in Paris] will have to write a love story that is not a cliché’, says the curator. ‘None of them is going to write a sugary love story. Can you picture Mutarelli [from New York] doing something like that?’ (Cuenca apud Simões and Colombo, 2007a, p. E4) [our insertions]. We understand that the problem does not lie in the theme of love, since it is a recurring theme for all arts; its plastic potential is undeniable to be moulded into the contexts of a society. There is not, we believe, any problem in an incentivized literature (ordered) that is about love: the question is not about which argument is to be financed, but which authors will speak and from what places these discourses will come. In other words, the perceptions of love experiences that are being legitimized. Other secondary compensations for the writing of the romance were also demanded, transforming the writers into products of the project. So, the authors made themselves appear in a rather phantasmagorical fashion in their novels, but also through other contract mechanisms – the requirement of a blog narrating their travel experience and the participation in taped documentaries throughout their stay in the cities – they made themselves visually present, making public the act of pre-creation. In that way, the experience of pre-writing of the travelling-authors also integrated show business. According to Debord (1997), ‘the fundamentally tautological character of the spectacle comes from the simple fact that its means are, at the same time, its end. It is the sun that never sets in the empire of modern passivity. It covers all the surface of the world and it is indefinitely impregnated with its own glory’. In other ways, being a light that never goes out on a stage whose curtains never close, ‘in the spectacle, the image of a reigning economy, the end is nothing, the unraveling is everything. The spectacle does not wish to achieve anything other than itself ’ (Debord, 1997, p. 17). More specifically, the backstage, the making of the spectacle, the production itself, is now available as something else to be consumed, and like their works, the writers also become

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merchandise in this society. The curtains go up and the backstage occupies the stage, making it into a part of the experience of the spectacle. Backstage is in (almost) full visibility, making the literature come down from its sacredness to mix with other speeches seen as profane: the media and touristic. The literary work, thus, is beyond a closed product, being constructed by these many media and touristic circles, supposedly peripheral, that sustain it. Amores Expressos, through the blogs updated by their travel writers and their documentaries which make them characters of an interview, highlights the travelling-author, created before the existence of the work itself. It can be noticed that with such mechanisms of visibility, the author himself becomes a product as much as his yet-to-be-published work; but the access to his persona was limited to the moment of experience that preceded the writing. It refers to those moments when they were, through travelling, searching for inspiration and speculating. In the face of that, the authorial performance was attached to the persona of the traveller who ‘mined experiences’ for his writing, while the act of joining the collected fragments and the construction of his novel (i.e. the moment that the ‘gliding of experiences’ happened) was kept isolated and invisible behind the aura of introspection, which involves the concept of authorship.

Final Considerations: Proposals for Future Research The intention of this chapter is to organize the information and discuss the concept of ‘tourism of literary writing’, the main element that we consider the ‘experience triggers’. In order to do so, we have reflected on the project Amores Expressos, which innovated the approach to the literary craft that served as reference to other Brazilian and international initiatives. In the end, the project Amores Expressos constituted a specific style of ‘tourism literary writing’, with the authors travelling between April and September 2007, logging ‘510 days of traveling and almost 160 thousand kilometers, which corresponds to four times the

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circumference of the Earth. These are the statistics of a year’s project, which gathered 17 Brazilian writers of three generations and sent them to spend a month in the most varied destinations’ (Abos, 2008, p. 12). Amores Expressos was conceived outside of the literary circuit, being a multimedia and touristic project that, among several strategies, also launched books as part of the editorial project, as well as produced documentaries and films from audiovisual projects. The project was divided into stages, with each one generating a cultural project to be commercialized on a specific platform: before the writing, there was a trip of the 17 writers to the chosen cities, generating 17 blogs and 16 documentaries produced by the Academia de Filmes, broadcast by TV Cultura and Art one channels. Later, there was – and there probably will continue to be – the release of literary works derived from these experiences of international travel. Finally, the project continues with the adaptation of some of these literary works into screenplays, generating films to be co-produced by RT Features (in fact, the participating authors sold their copyrights to the production company even before writing their works). Furthermore, if these travel reports written by the authors would reach the public for free (via Internet or television), the same would not happen with the novels and films. The type of touristic activity promoted by the organizers of the project served not only to allow the authors to ‘mine experiences’ for a future work they would write, but also enabled the construction of new lucrative products for the financing companies. In other words: the ‘tourism of literary writing’, which would be a sort of backstage pre-creation, also became part of the spectacle: the draft of ideas and the author as a traveller came to the surface, be it through the writing of the blog or through the images and sounds of the documents (visual, oral and written aspects). Finally, the writer acted as a performer in the trip he took. He had to talk about himself to talk about the literary work. It is proposed that any future research must be enacted on the other two pillars that make up this model of touristic-literary activity, which are the gliding and mining of experiences. Thus, it would be important to study the ‘mining of experiences’ (via blogs

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and documentaries of the project Amores Expressos) and the ‘gliding of experiences’ (comparing the contents of the blogs with the novels released, as well as expanding the analysis from the interview with the authors). In this way, the triad of experiences that compose the ‘tourism of literary writing’ would be analysed in their entirety and, consequently, we would be able to observe other meanings of travelling in the construction

of novels that compose the collection of Amores Expressos. Further research could examine how the ‘mining of experiences’ influenced the authors, not only in the referencing of what is real, but also in the making of the characters and the building of an urban atmosphere for the works, with a certain connection of a traveller’s subjectivity to their creative writings, which is entitled ‘gliding of experiences’.

Notes Amores Expressos means ‘Express Love’, in Portuguese, and shall continue to be referred to in its original name throughout the text. 2 André Leones had his first novel rejected by Cia. das Letras, and eventually published it in 2010 through Editora Rocco with the title Como desaparecer completamente (São Paulo). Another rejected novel was the one by Cecilia Giannetti, whose working title is Desde que eu te amo tanto (Berlin) which is still without a publisher. We consider that these novels, while ‘marginal’ in relation to the collection, emerge from experiences made possible by the Project, since it keeps in the narrative the cities where the authors ‘resided’ for one month. 3 The others, yet to be published, were the object of an article in Folha de S. Paulo, on 27 July 2013, with the title ‘Commission gave writer’s block to Amores Expressos authors’. According to journalist Marcos Rodrigo Almeida (2013a), ‘lack of inspiration, overwork and difficulties in dealing with the theme of the series broke the heart of many writers from the Project Amores Expressos’. This is the case for Lourenço Mutarelli, who went to New York, Adriana Lisboa in Paris, Antonia Pellegrino in Mumbai, Reinaldo Moraes in Mexico City and, finally, Antônio Prata in Shanghai. However, all of them, according to the article, intended to (re)write the books and shortly presented them to the publisher. 4 Later on, there was an update: Marçal Aquino, initially expected to participate, abandoned the Project claiming personal matters, being then substituted by Paulo Scott and Daniel Pellizzari, which raised the number of writers to 17. 5 The author alludes to the ‘Festa Literária Internacional de Paraty’ (The Paraty International Literary Festival), an event that takes place yearly, in a coastal city of the state of Rio de Janeiro. 6 Banco Nacional de Desenvolvimento Social, or, in English, Brazilian Development Bank, owned by the government. 1

Acknowledgement I would like to thank Luiz Guilherme Amorim de Castro for the English language version of the original text, originally written in Brazilian Portuguese.

Further Reading Bettega, A. (2013) Barreira, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Buarque, C.B. (2003) Budapeste, 2nd edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Carvalho, B. (2009) O filhoda mãe, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Cuenca, J.P. (2010). O únicofinal feliz para uma história de amor é um acidente, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Galera, D. (2008) Cordilheira, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil.

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Lisboa, A. (2014) Rakushisha, 1st edn. Editora Objetiva, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Mattoso, C. (2011) Nunca vaiembora, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Pellizzari, D. (2013) Diga aSatã que o recado foi entendido, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Ruffato, L. (2009) Estive emLisboa e lembrei de você, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Sant’Anna, S. (2011) O livrode Praga: narrativas de amor e arte, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Scott, P. (2013) Ithaca Road, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Terron, J.R. (2010) Dofundo do poço se vê a Lua, 1st edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil.

References Abos, M. (2008) Amores Expressos já TEM os primeiros livros. Jornal O Globo 08 May, 12. Almeida, M.R. (2013a) Amor por encomenda: atrasada, série Amores Expressos rende mais 3 livros e ‘DR’ sobre limites da literatura por demanda. Folha de São Paulo 27 July, E1. Almeida, M.R. (2013b) Encomenda travou escritores da coleção. Folha de São Paulo 27 July, E4. Azevedo, R. (2007) Amores Expressos: O cinismo com mão de veludo da intelligentsia brasileira. Blog do Reinaldo Azevedo, 24 March. Available at: http://​veja.​abril.​com.​br/​blog/​reinaldo/​avesso-​do-​avesso/​ amores-​expressos-​o-​cinismo-​com-​mao-​de-​veludo-​da-​intelligentsia-​brasileira/ (accessed 7 March 2019). Bourdieu, P. (1996) As Regras da Arte: Gênese e Estrutura do Campo Literário, 2nd edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Brás, L. (2012) Fundo do poço. Folha de São Paulo, 24 November. Buarque, C.B. (2003) Budapeste, 2nd edn. Editora Companhia das Letras, São Paulo, Brazil. Campbell, J. (1949) O herói de mil faces, 1st edn. Editora Pensamento, São Paulo, Brazil. Condé, M. (2007) O preço da criação. Jornal O Globo 24 mar, 1–2. Cozer, R. (2011) Literatura sustentável: O romance brasileiro na era do marketing. Folha de São Paulo 23 out, 6. De Masi, D. (2003) Criatividade e grupos criativos, 1st edn. Editora Sextante, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Debord, G. (1997) A sociedade do espetáculo, 1st edn. Editora Contraponto, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Domingos Candeias, V.L. (2009) Residência Artística: Espaço do Tempo de Criação. Dissertação de Mestrado em Comunicação, Cultura e Tecnologias da Informação. Universidade Nova de Lisboa, Lisboa, Portugal. Guedes, L. (2011) Viagens literárias em busca de amor. Revista da Cultura 53, 32–34. Lisboa, A. (2014) Rakushisha, 1st edn. Editora Objetiva, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Millen, M. (2007) Amores Expressos. Prosa online, 21 March. Available at: http://​oglobo.​globo.​com/​blogs/​ prosa/​posts/​2007/​03/​21/​amores-​expressos-​51834.​asp (accessed 20 December 2016). Mirisola, M. (2007a) Seleção. Folha de São Paulo 25 mar, A2. Mirisola, M. (2007b) Bonde das letras. Folha de São Paulo 18 mar, A3. Paulo, F.S. (2015) Estradas paralelas. São Paulo 30 mai, 11. Rodrigues, S. (2007a) Polêmica expressa. Blog Todoprosa, 20 March. Available at: http://​veja.​abril.​com.​ br/​blog/​todoprosa/​posts/​polmica-​expressa/ (accessed 20 December 2016). Rodrigues, S. (2007b) Com a palavra, Sérgio Sant’Anna. Blog Todoprosa, 21 March. Available at: http://​ todoprosa.​com.​br/​com-​a-​palavra-​srgio-​santanna/ (accessed 20 December 2016). Rumores e Ruidos (2012) Amores Expressos. Available at: http://www.​rumoreseruidos.​com/ (accessed 7 March 2019). Santiago, S. (2011) Paiol Literário: Silviano Santiago. Available at: http://​rascunho.​com.​br/​silviano-​santiago/ (accessed 7 March 2019). Santos, J.F. (2007a) Amores Expressos. Jornal O Globo 7 abr, 3. Santos, J.F. (2007b) Amores Expressos. Jornal O Globo 8 set, 3. Schøllhammer, K.E. (2010) Em vez da exploração, uma pequena crônica. Jornal O Globo 20 fev, 4. Simões, E. and Colombo, S. (2007a) Uso de incentivo fiscal no “bonde” divide escritores. Folha de São Paulo 24 mar, E4.

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Simões, E. and Colombo, S. (2007b) Bonde do barulho. Folha de São Paulo 24 mar, E1. Simões, E. (2008) ‘Amores Expressos’ já tem três romances. Folha de São Paulo 10 mai, E8. Teixeira, J. (2007) Teco-teco da alegria. Revista Veja 28 mar, 113. Volpato, C. (2007) Bonde das letras. Folha de São Paulo 17 mar, E1.

15 

Stay Eat Love: Travel Books, Italy and the Emotional Geographies of Place

Kelley A. McClinchey* Department of Recreation and Leisure Studies, Faculty of Applied Health Sciences, University of Waterloo, Ontario, Canada

Introduction Ever since the Grand Tour, travellers journeying to Italy have documented their experiences through diaries and journals, and in letters to family back home. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe published his memoirs in 1816–1817 of his travels in 1786–1788, Mark Twain famously published The Innocents Abroad in 1869, Henry James published Italian Hours in 1909, D.H. Lawrence published Twilights in Italy and Other Essays in 1916, and Edith Wharton published Italian Villas and their Gardens in 1904 and Italian Backgrounds a year later. Thus, the history of literary travel of Italy is not new. However, Italian travel by the British and Americans declined during the Great War and the Second World War, with travel still declining through the post-war period. Images of a Mussolini-led fascist state remained as Italy worked hard to rebuild infrastructure and create a post-fascist Italian identity (Parks, 2013). It was not until the 1960s that an increase in safe commercial airline supply along with a renewed image of Italy (helped by the film Roman Holiday (1953) with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck) that travel to Italy began to increase. Travel literature, memoirs and books began appearing in

earnest in the 1990s with Eric Newby’s seminal work A Small Place (Newby, 1994) and Frances Mayes’ infamous text Under the Tuscan Sun (Mayes, 1996). Mayes focused on the challenges she faced re-building her second home, and the distinct characters she met while going about her daily life in Cortona. A decade later, it was Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert (2006) that became equally infamous. It was a deeply personal, unfiltered and sensuous collection of descriptions of Italian food, people and culture that vividly created images in the imaginations and realities of its audience. Without a doubt, these travel books about Italy excite interest, feelings and involvement and describe landscapes that are included in their narratives (Herbert, 2001). While Laing and Frost (2012) considered how books, including non-fiction narratives, as a cultural phenomenon affect our conceptualization of travel, attention on the impact or influence of literature on tourism is still lacking. Autobiographical narratives act as placemaking tools bridging the divide between the construction of tourism sites and the self-identity process, yet this has been underexplored (Rickly-Boyd, 2009). Writers and travellers, too, want their own place ‘under the Tuscan sun’. Once a traveller has experienced Italy,

*​kamcclinchey@​uwaterloo.​ca © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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whether it be the rural landscapes of Tuscany or Umbria, the distinct hustle and bustle of Rome or Naples, or the intense connection of family heritage in Sicily, once they have stayed, eaten and experienced Italy, there is love. Feelings and emotions have been studied in connection with the tourist experience in several contexts (Bigne and Andreu, 2004; Goossens, 2000; Kidron, 2013; Lee, 2015), but literary travel about Italy is a new direction in the growing area of emotions and tourism. Reijinders (2011) argued for future studies taking into account the complex interactions between narrative characteristics, feelings of belonging and the experience of place. More specifically, emotional geography is human engagement with powerful cultural places, material culture, intangible heritage, emotion and sensory encounters with places and objects. Urry (2005) showed how specific sites are constructed in ways saturated with emotion, sometimes wild and frightening, and sometimes aesthetically pleasing and relaxing and sometimes dependent on ideas of rootedness. Thus, this chapter seeks to understand the way in which emotions are located within the consumption of places in Italy as communicated through travel book narratives (Urry, 2005).

Literary Travel and the Travel Book There are now many more literary places than ever attracting a greater diversity of tourist types. Literary places are no longer accidents in history, sites of a writer’s birth or death; they are also social constructions, created, amplified and promoted to attract visitors (Herbert, 2001, p. 313). It is for this reason that tourism practitioners and destination marketers should pay closer attention to the demand for places that connect with various forms of literature. For example, literary places can be destinations that are marketed as being the birth/death place or place of writing of a famous novelist, poet or playwright (e.g. William Shakespeare’s Stratford, James Joyce’s Dublin and Ernest Hemingway’s Paris and Cuba). They can also be destinations that are represented in fiction novels and then originally travelled to by literary pilgrims (Herbert, 2001), leading them to being marketed specifically for literary tourism (e.g.

Beatrix Potter’s English Lake District and Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Prince Edward Island). Literary places are also (the topic of this chapter) places that are represented in non-fiction travel accounts, including travel memoirs, autobiographies, news articles and now travelogues and blogs (Santos, 2004). What is intriguing about literary travel about Italy is that there have been more travel books published in the past 15 years than in the previous 30 years combined. This demonstrates that there are specific qualities, experiences, characteristics and senses of place that Italy instils in travellers, so much so that there is a desire to write, record and publish one’s experiences. Literary travel is not simply a function of ‘literary influences’ but a medium through which a range of cultural meanings and values may be communicated (Squire, 1994). It has grasped the attention of tourism scholars as a form of niche tourism (Herbert, 2001). There are several early examples in the research focusing on fiction literature and its influence on travel. Squire (1994) examined the English Lake District as the home of Beatrix Potter, author of the famous children’s book Peter Rabbit (Potter, 1902), with regard to how culture is produced and consumed for tourism. The author L.M. Montgomery, of the famed Anne of Green Gables novels, and her birthplace Prince Edward Island, Canada were the subject of a study by Fawcett and Cormack (2001) concerned about the continued commercialization of the towns on Prince Edward Island and neo-liberal attempts to benefit from Montgomery's heritage. Other early examples explored non-fiction literary texts. Towner (1985) first examined diaries, letters and journals in order to assess four key elements of the Grand Tour. Through the analysis of these non-fiction writings, Towner (1985) discovered that the 1820s and 1830s are an important time period in the development of a more formalized tourist industry. More recently, literary tourism has returned to the academic discussion because of the way in which media as a whole has altered how we record, document and share our travel realities and imaginaries, both through time and space (Salazar, 2012). Literary tourism has itself been reconceptualized by some to be incorporated within media tourism – tourism that involves various media forms, such as novels, travelogues, travel

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blogs, journals, news articles, promotional videos and popular film (Beeton, 2005). There have been some notable examples of recent research involving travel literature and/ or travel writing (Bandyopadhyay et  al., 2008; Conrad-Guthrie, 2016; d’Hauteserre, 2011; Jenkins, 2003; Laing, 2010; Osagie and Buzinde, 2011; Philips, 2011; Reijinders, 2011; Yan and Santos, 2009) and some specifically examining non-fiction texts. Wilson et al. (2009) found that travel provides a mechanism for life-changing experiences for women through guidebooks. More comprehensively, Laing and Frost (2012) argued that this is also present in autobiographical texts such as The White Masai (Hofmann, 1999) and Eat Pray Love (Gilbert, 2006). Enoch and Grossman (2010) explored travel diaries of tourists in India. By processing their experience through writing a diary the tourists deconstruct and reconstruct both ‘India’ and ‘Home’ as well as the relationship between them (Enoch and Grossman, 2010). Despite a renewed awareness of literary texts and their influence on tourism, the examination of tourism-centred texts still awaits serious critical interest (Osagie and Buzinde, 2011; Ryan et al., 2009). Dann (1999) mentioned that the distinction between writers who travel (for whom the goal is the written word) and travellers who write (for whom the central purpose is the journey) is becoming somewhat blurred. No longer is there a fine boundary between diary, guide book, memoir, and quest romance. Instead, Dann (1999) defines travel books as being part memoir, autobiography and quest romance. The travel memoir (travel book) as a series of texts has yet to be analysed in terms of its contribution to the emotional geographies of place in tourism. Exploring emotional geographies in the context of literary travel of Italy is a nascent area of research. There is without a doubt acknowledgement that Under the Tuscan Sun (Mayes, 1996) and Eat, Pray, Love (Gilbert, 2006) have had a profound impact on tourist demand in the regions of Italy described in these narratives. Moreover, these texts spurred literary tourism supply in these places, such as guided walking and bus tours of Tuscany and Umbria (e.g. Travelweek Group, 2016; www.​underthetuscansun.​it). However, there is still a great need for tourism practitioners and destination marketers to tap

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into these untouched yet deeply moving stories of place. The travel books chosen were categorized as contemporary travel literature in that they were published after 1990 (Table  15.1). Contemporary travel literature differs from other travel literature about Italy published in the 20th century (e.g. Sea and Sardinia, Lawrence (1921) and Thrilling Cities, Fleming (1963)). These texts have had a profound impact on how Italy was represented in the past; however, their form as modernist memoirs differ from those published during/after the ‘postmodern turn’. For this research, 20 English-language travel books were selected. A comprehensive list was created from local bookstores and web searches of A ​ mazon.​ca and I​ndigo.​ca as well as travel websites/blogs about Italy. While this is not the total number of travel books on Italy, it represents an accurate sample of the authorship, their style of writing, content, form and the destinations they visited.

Emotional Geographies Tourists are pushed by their emotional needs and pulled by the emotional benefits of travel (Goossens, 2000). Memorable experiences at specific heritage tourism sites have also been shown to induce specific feelings and emotions (Kidron, 2013; Lee, 2015). Segmentation studies have applied emotions as they pertain to the enjoyment of leisure and tourism services (Bigne and Andreu, 2004) and emotion in travel experiences have already been documented (Falcone, 2011; Wilson and Harris, 2006; Wilson et al., 2009). Buda et al. (2014) argued that exciting challenges exist for tourism researchers when closer attention is given to the embodied emotionality of tourist places. What is still lacking is how specific places instil emotions, feelings akin to notions of place identity and place attachment (Altman and Low, 1992; Hay, 1998). Emotions are universal throughout human cultures and psychologists have determined that some of these basic emotions include happiness, sadness, fear, disgust, anger, surprise, satisfaction, pride, contempt, embarrassment and amusement (Eckman,

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Table 15.1.  English travel books about Italy. Date Type of travel experience, published Author characteristics motivation

Title

Author

Summers in Supino

Maria Coletta McLean

2013

Female, Canadian

Return travel to ancestral home in Supino

At Least You’re in Tuscany

Jennifer Criswell

2012

Female, American

Individual travel, to eventually make a life in Tuscany

The Last Supper: A Summer in Italy

Rachel Cusk

2009

Female, British

Family travel, 3 months throughout Italy

The Reluctant Tuscan Phil Doran

2005

Male, American

Retired couple, travel to purchase a second home

Passion on the Vine

2008

Male, American-Italian Individual, family and business, travel to ancestral home

Dolce Far Niente: Paul L. Gentile Sweet Doing Nothing

2007

Male, American

Couple travel throughout Italy

Eat Pray Love

Elizabeth Gilbert

2006

Female, American

Individual travel

Blood, Bones & Butter

Gabrielle Hamilton

2011

Female, American

Repeated return travel to husband’s ancestral home

Extra Virgin

Annie Hawes

2001

Female, British

Individual, travel throughout Italy

A Vineyard in Tuscany Ferenc Mate

2008

Male, American

Couple, travel to purchase second home and own winery

Under the Tuscan Sun

Frances Mayes

1996

Female, American

Individual/couple, travel to purchase and work on second home

Memoirs of a Solo Traveler: My Love Affair with Italy

Margie Miklas

2012

Female, American

Individual, travel throughout Italy

A Small Place in Italy Eric Newby

1994

Male, British

Couple, re-visiting Italian village where they met, purchase a second home

Dances with Luigi

Paul Paolicelli

2000

Male, American

Individual, travel to search for family roots

Italian Ways: On and Off the Rails from Milan to Palermo

Tim Parks

2013

Male, British

Individual, travel through Italy by train

The Dolce Vita Diaries Cathy Rogers and Jason Gibb

2009

Female, American

Couple, travel to purchase second home and olive grove

Casa Nostra: A Home Caroline Seller in Sicily Manzo

2007

Female, British

Family, travel to ancestral home in Sicily

Mediterranean Summer

2007

Male, American

Individual, travel through employment

Sergio Esposito

David Shalleck with Erol Munoz

Continued

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Table 15.1  Continued Title

Author

Date Type of travel experience, published Author characteristics motivation

Living in a Foreign Language

Michael Tucker

2007

Male, American

Couple, travel to visit friends, purchase a second home

Travels with George

Olga Vannucci

2012

Female, American

Repeat travel with young son to ancestral village, travel throughout Italy

1999). Emotions are not easily defined, measured or singled out and are often combined in various degrees (Plutchik and Kellerman, 1980). They are also highly subjective, related to each individual’s experience, and multi-dimensional, which is likely why they have only been recently empirically studied in human geography (Hockenbury and Hockenbury, 2007). While much work has been explored in terms of the emotional in bodies and space, there is still a lack of understanding as to the feelings places inspire in us, such as passion, awe, dread, worry, loss, love and connection. An emotional geography, then, attempts to understand emotion – experientially and conceptually – in terms of its socio-spatial mediation and articulation, rather than as an entirely interiorized mental status (Bondi et al., 2005). Emotions are significant not only at the scale of the body but also at other scales, including the spaces of the home, the community, the city and the nation. Exploring the spaces and relations through which emotions are experienced offers insight into questions of difference and oppression by engaging with ‘how environments, variously conceived, are encountered as sources of distress, pleasure and commemoration, sometimes intensifying exclusion and sometimes fostering well-being’ (Bondi et  al., 2005, p. 8). Emotional geography is one that charts the sensory and affective qualities of place, as shown in the character, arrangement and interrelations of place and such elements as people and heritage – as made up of oral traditions, relationships and kinship, moral obligation, narratives, daily lives and ritual performance.

Method In order to investigate stories of place that are important to these destinations in Italy, this study examined travel books that were representative of travellers’ narratives of Italy as their subjective yet meaningful travel experiences. Therefore, an interpretive paradigm which is ‘sensitive to context’ was applied, as it is more interested in achieving an empathetic understanding of feelings and world views than with testing laws of human behaviour (Neuman, 2000). Tourism scholars often forget to examine cultural artefacts, such as paintings, literary texts, plays, films and songs. Yet these artefacts are indeed reflections and creative processes through which scholars can engage local particularities and articulate the intricate role enacted by tourism in everyday social complexities (Osagie and Buzinde, 2011). The use of hermeneutics in tourism research is not common, yet Jamal and Hollinshead (2001) argued for more attention to qualitative approaches that go beyond the comfort and inheritances of positivism and scientism focusing on the value and place of ‘messy texts’, ‘engaged interestedness’, ‘locality/local knowledges’ and the ‘confirmability of qualitative inquiry’. To be human means to be immersed and embedded in the day-to-day world, to be engrossed in the physical and the tangible world around us (Pernecky, 2010). Reisinger and Steiner (2006) (in Pernecky and Jamal, 2010) proposed that if Heidegger is right, everything that tourists experience, what they see, touch, hear, smell and taste, is real and authentic in itself. Adherents of hermeneutic approaches seek to understand the meanings objects hold for the perceiver(s), but they also seek to understand the relationships between them

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(including tradition, culture, heritage, history and social settings (Pernecky and Jamal, 2010, p. 1059)). Hermeneutic philosophers such as Heidegger (1996 [1927]) and his student Gadamer (1989) rethink interpretation as underpinning all forms of understanding and they see it as ontological, as fundamental to being human (Ablett and Dyer, 2009). For Heidegger, through his work, Being and Time (1996 [1927]), ‘Da-sein’ (being there) is a situated, historical and temporal being-in-the-world. Hermeneutics draws on two central tenets of qualitative research strategy: an emphasis on the point of view of the author of the text and sensitivity to context (Bryman, 2001). Hermeneutics emphasizes a detailed reading or examination of the text. A researcher conducts ‘a reading’ to discover meaning embedded in the text (Neuman, 2000). This entails attention to the social and historical context within which the text was produced (Bryman, 2001). Thus, the method selected for analysing travel texts in this study was latent content analysis. Qualitative latent content analysis was performed in order to accurately analyse the representations of Italy as a place and the meanings ascribed to Italy. Berg (2008) suggested that content analysis is a passport to listening to the words of the text, and understanding better the perspective(s) of the producer of these words. More specifically, latent content analysis is an interpretive reading of the symbolism underlying the physical data and a search for themes and concepts (Berg, 2008). Themes and concepts are two of seven major elements in written messages that can be analysed in content analysis (Sellitz et  al., 1959). Berg (2008) explained that a theme in its simplest form is a sentence, a string of words with a subject and a predicate. Concepts involve words grouped together into conceptual clusters that form around a particular theme or idea (Berg, 2008). Qualitative latent content analysis was used to analyse these novels because it is an interpretive reading of the symbolism underlying physical data and a search for themes and concepts (Berg, 2008). Place is seen as individualistic, although attachments and meanings are often shared. Several interesting findings emerged in the analysis of these non-fiction texts with regard to detailed descriptions of Italy that evoke emotion and senses of place.

The texts were systematically analysed through multiple readings searching for themes and ideas. Each novel was read through in its entirety marking sections, highlighting and tagging pages that had rich descriptions and points that were emotional. For example, meaningful place experiences include descriptions of the natural environment, personal characteristics related to place, emotional connections to place, sensuous descriptions of places, food, people, landscapes and intimate social interactions (Eyles, 1985; Hay, 1998; Stewart et  al., 1998; Snepenger et  al., 2007; Billig, 2005; Butz and Eyles, 1997; Jeong and Santos, 2004; Kyle and Chick, 2007; Shamai and Ilatov, 2005; Kianicki and Huziker, 2006).

Characteristics of Authors and Motivations In contrast to historical travel accounts in contemporary travel literature, especially about Italy during the Grand Tour, over half of these travel books were written by women. Associated with postmodernism is the breakdown of boundaries and the de-construction of meanings and texts (Salazar, 2012). Travel books were once authored primarily by westernized, heterosexual males with an adventurous gaze on quests to exotic, feminized landscapes (Salazar, 2012). Travel was individualistic and about conquering lands previously untouched by the foreigner. But this is no longer the case. Authors in this study were in a variety of life stages from young adults in their late 20s or early 30s, to parents with schoolaged children, to mature adult singles and couples. For some, the motivations for travelling to Italy were to tour different regions for lengthy time periods, to immerse themselves in local culture (food, wine or language), to purchase and re-construct a second home, or to re-acquaint themselves with family roots and return trips (e.g. Criswell, 2012; Coletta McLean, 2013; Esposito, 2008; Doran, 2005; Hamilton, 2011; Mayes, 1996; Paolicelli, 2000; Seller Manzo, 2007). Instead, regular travellers are documenting their experiences and their background and motivations differ from the past. The boundary is being broken

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between professional author and regular tourist/travel writer. For some authors it was for an extended travel experience with their family (e.g. Cusk, 2009; Vannucci, 2012) or a new short-term work experience (e.g. Hawes, 2001). Other authors in this study were at various stages in their life cycle and that particular time seemed a perfect one for a trip to Italy. Many authors were travelling to Italy during a break in their career/work-life (e.g. Doran, 2005; Tucker, 2007) or as a transition to a new stage of their life that they were uncertain about, such as a career change or retirement (e.g. Criswell, 2012; Gentile, 2007). For example, Criswell, 2012 explained the motivations behind other travellers and authors of these books as an almost-trope but that her narrative is different, Lots of people dream of Tuscany. Most do the sensible thing; they rent villas with friends and spend their days touring the countryside and exploring the hill towns. They sip the wine, savor the food, and enjoy the same conversations of their regular lives … only in Tuscany. There are fewer who actually decide to pull up roots and move to Tuscany. Often they are couples looking for a different life or who want to retire among the tangled peace of grapevines and ancient olive trees. They buy a centuries-old stone farmhouse to renovate and wax rhapsodic on the sweetness of the grass and idyllic pace of the countryside. We’ve all read those stories. The troubles with the locals, spending gobs of money so they can have all of their modern comforts. I loved them all when I read them too. Then there’s me.

Through the interpretative reading of the texts via latent content analysis three themes emerged: transformation, home and belonging, and emotional geographies of place.

Transformation Frost (2010) found that tourists portrayed in Outback films found their experience had a profound effect on them. The films he studied conveyed a message that something happens to the tourist in the Outback and they are changed forever (emphasis in the original). The effect is so strong that Frost (2010) characterized it as

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a life-changing experience or an epiphany. The tourist experiences positive effects ranging from completely changing their lives, to learning respect for others, to better understanding themselves (Frost, 2010). In a similar sense, the authors of these books experienced transformation ranging from simply experiencing daily challenges such as language difficulties, to completely upturning their lives in order to live in Italy after repeat visits (e.g. Criswell, 2012; Doran, 2005), to learning to appreciate high-quality home-cooked food and locally made products (e.g. Hamilton, 2011; Shalleck and Munoz, 2007), to regaining a new perspective on life or a new life direction (e.g. Mate, 2008; Tucker, 2007). Change was described as personal in terms of physical life changes like moving, becoming more appreciative of strong senses of community, natural, simple foods, becoming more patient or more understanding of cultural differences. Feelings of belonging, not belonging and conflicts over identity were also challenges these travel writers faced. Authors described struggles with language, government bureaucracy, Italian cultural norms and being labelled as an Outsider (Relph, 1976). Examples ranged from trying to understand why specific tasks were so difficult to accomplish (finishing a brick retaining wall in a garden) (Mayes, 1996), to understanding train schedules (when they are not posted) (Parks, 2013), to how to order a panini and an espresso from the Auto Grill (purchase the food first then take your receipt to the counter) (Gentile, 2007) to knowing when it is appropriate to drink a cappuccino (never after 12 noon) (Hawes, 2001). At times, experiencing these challenges and making it through made the authors feel a part of Italy and perhaps more like an Insider (Relph, 1976). For example, Tucker (2007) thought about how ‘The Rustico’, the stone house he and his wife, Jill Eikenberry, contemplate buying as a second home, makes him feel: I told Jill how I was feeling at that moment, sitting next to the garden watching the birds; about the pull this place has for me, how the rhythm of the land dictates the pace for everything and everyone. I’m not a particularly patient person – I don’t usually do the stillness thing well – but I thought that living in this house, in this valley might change that some.

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Authors’ transformations of challenge and survival also mirror that of a quest. Many narratives have a quest embedded in them. Laing and Frost (2012) discussed several types of quests within both fiction and non-fiction travel narratives and perhaps the ‘quest for love’ or the ‘quest for healing’ could be applied here. However, it is more likely that these narratives are a ‘quest for self-discovery’. Criswell (2012) travels to Italy over the course of 10 years re-affirmed her desire to completely change her life. No longer interested in pursuing a career as a lawyer and living in New York City, Criswell, instead, had other motives: I don’t want to be a lawyer!!!!! I want to write. Over the past few weeks, this demand had floated up from an echoing place within me as I’d drifted in a rickety boat in the blue grotto of Capri, as I’d sipped an espresso in the eerie quiet of a Venice morning, as I’d licked melting gelato from my fingers while browsing the Campo de’Fiori in Rome. Being a lawyer hadn’t brought me any such satisfaction … But as I watched the morning sun glint off the stately cypress trees in the distance, I realized I didn’t care. I wanted to do what I’d done since childhood. I wanted to write stories.

For others, a trip to Italy occurred during a period of transition in their life. This was especially the case for those authors who had recently retired or were thinking about whether their chosen career path was all there was to life; that maybe there was something more. This was especially the case for Gilbert (2006), whose trip to Italy was the first part of a threepart journey to find what she felt she had lost along the way. Gentile (2007) planned a month-long, dream trip to Italy with his wife after they retired. Driving through Italy the trip was filled with memorable experiences, beautiful sites, challenging mishaps. yet it was an overwhelmingly emotional journey, This had truly been the experience of a lifetime. We had immersed ourselves in the culture, acquired some great Italian recipes, met wonderful people, and learned so much more. I met my family and gained a greater understanding of my father. We had felt guilty about retiring and had been agitated and stressed when we left home; now we were very relaxed, mellow, and happy. The trip had transformed us.

Home and Belonging The theme of transformation, such as gaining a new perspective on life, or ‘surviving’ challenges or even simply learning about new cultural traditions, also connected to a sense of home and belonging. Some authors, in their first trips to Italy, came to the realization that Italy had changed their perspective on life to the degree that they craved a desire to feel at home and to feel like they belong. While they may not have consciously been aware of these emotions and feelings before their travels, they discovered this during their experiences in Italy; it was happenstance. This was true for Mayes (1996), of the famed Under the Tuscan Sun. On first visiting Italy, she and her husband decided to purchase a second home in the Tuscan countryside. After multiple trips, volatile currency exchanges and indecision over the molto lavora (much work), they finally decide to buy ‘Bramasole’. While enjoying their first night at the villa, outside on the terrace drinking prosecco, Mayes’ husband Ed whispers, ‘Still want to go home, or can this be home?’ Newby (1994) explained the way the familiarity of the place and all the food being homemade connected with their senses, thereby contributing to an overall feeling of returning home: Here and there long shafts of sunlight penetrated the dark shadows cast by the vegetation overhead, and when an occasional ripple of time passed through this glade everything was dappled with light and shade. It was a magical place and one to which we always looked forward to returning. It was a memorable merenda. Almost everything was homemade and of the best.

Criswell (2012) questioned her decision to travel to Italy and eventually move there because of her own self-doubt as well as those who questioned her motives. However, her newly perceived roots gave her the confidence to continue forward: My insecurities revolved more around what the Italians would think of me, my cooking skills, and my decidedly unfashionable apparel rather than any adjustment I’d be making to the way I was living day-to-day life. Each time I’d returned to Italy in the years following that first adventure, the connection I’d felt to the people

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and to the countryside was strengthened. This is where I’m supposed to be. I wasn’t just picking up roots; I was planting them in the right spot.

While visiting the ancestral home of her father on one of several trips with her young son back to Italy, Vannucci (2012) described what she was searching for while at the public beach in the region of Liguria. Not wanting to pay fees at a private beach club, Vannucci heads to a public beach with her son, ‘The public beaches have to be there, they’re legislated, but they’re tiny … They’re usually very crowded and they don’t have that feel, the part I coveted, of belonging.’ So instead, as a guest of her aunt, they head to a private beach club. The notion of home becomes emphasized when typical family battles occur over what one might consider on the ‘outside’ as being strange yet from the ‘insider’s’ perspective is quite normal. Vannucci (2012) explains the ‘battle of the cousin’s olive oil’, My aunt gets her olive oil from a cousin on her father’s side of the family who has olive groves in western Liguria, close to France. She is very proud of her olive oil, proud that it’s so good and made by family. She loves to talk about it to anyone who will listen. A cousin on her mother’s side also has olive groves, these in Tuscany, and he brings her some olive oil to try. It’s also very good, though possibly not as good, and much more expensive. The first cousin wins.

Tuan (1977) explained that a sense of place is an emotional connection and a sense of belonging to a place but that rootedness implies longevity, having spent a lot of time there. For many, Italy exemplifies this sense of belonging, but of also being rooted. As Vannucci (2012) commented, ‘People live in the same place for generations, and interact with the same people, they are part of a web. I think it’s what sustains the country … everyone creates a web that fills their needs and that’s how things get done.’ Perhaps this is also why many travellers, especially those with familial ties, also feel a deep sense of belonging and of home, even if it is their first time travelling there or they are only there for a short period of time. Because of the deeply set roots of the web in Italy, many feel an insatiable need to connect. Vannucci (2012, p. 181) wrote in another section of her book about how her travels back to Italy bring back a jumble of memories and that the memories mixed up with the present are

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what make her who she is, ‘returning home, from home. And we go home again, and return home, from home’. One aspect of her travels back to Italy that brings with it deep emotion is the fact that two people, her uncle and a family friend, have recently passed away. These were two people she specifically came to see on her travels in Italy. A sense of belonging, regardless of Italian family ties in Italy, was also a theme that emerged in these texts. Instead, there was a sense of belonging that related to feelings of connection with loved ones while being in Italy. Tucker (2007, p. 49) described how his desire to chase his own pleasures and dreams can only be important if he never loses sight of the dreams of his wife, Jill, but for some reason this one, about owning a second home in Umbria, was different, She’d seem to be saying that she wanted this. Why the change? Why the house? Why this moment? ‘Because it felt like home,’ said Jill simply, from the passenger seat. Wait a minute. Was I talking out loud or was she reading my mind again? All those other places – in the south of France – they were vacation places. It was really fun to go there for a week or two, but we could really live our lives in this house.

Tucker (2007, p. 90) also commented on landscapes as being a symbol for his feelings of belonging, ‘We passed beneath the breathtaking aqueduct that spans the deep gorge between the town and the mountain on the other side and we knew we were home’. In another excerpt, Tucker (p. 142) talked of the comradery and mundane topics of conversation of friends as well as the comforts of home-cooked food, all connecting to the sounds, sights, tastes and feelings of familiarity: A new batch of kittens were climbing up the pergola poles to escape the attention of family kids, who pursued them relentlessly; platters of bruschetta appeared, the toasted, oiled bread covered variously with truffles and mushrooms, liver paste or tomatoes and basil; JoJo and Martin continued their argument over Fidelio, even though he was long out of the picture; Bruce showed me a brochure for the high-speed internet connection that had just become available; Bruno had just bought a new pile of rocks that he was developing high up in Campello Alto; Karen, Mayes and Jill made a date to go to the gym together. Plates of pasta

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arrived – ravioli Letiziam strengozzi al tartufo, spaghetti Benedictina. We were home.

In contrast, Cusk (2009, p. 216) used sensuous descriptions of Italy as being more like the home they wanted to have as the opposite of the true reality of going home: Outside a warm wind is blowing. The sea is a field of dark inflections; the boats rock sleepily on their moorings. We walk along the road, into Santa Margherita, and find a table at a packed little place by the port, where the heat and laughter and the smells of cooking, the deep wooden shelves of beautiful wines, the baskets of rough bread, the old padrone in his stained apron, the faded colour photographs of Italian landscapes, the glad cases of lemon tart and tiramisu, seem to distill all our manifold experiences into themselves.

Cusk described how her children have forgotten what it is like to be ‘home’ and how they have forgotten to live anywhere but at the centre of experience. What is important is that being in Italy gives them a sense of belonging and of home without the need to be rooted in place (Tuan, 1977). These notions of being there/‘Da-sein’ are situated in the historical and temporal aspects of being in Italy in the present in terms of the traditions, culture, history and social settings experienced by these travellers (Heidegger, 1996 [1927]).

Emotional Geographies Travel writers in this study described at length their feelings and emotions in relation to specific places, whether it was a rural landscape in Umbria or Tuscany or the hustle and bustle of streets in Naples or Rome. For example, Paolicelli (2000, p. 18) described a deep yet unexplainable feeling when walking the streets of Rome: When I walked Rome’s streets, listened to the music of its traffic and crowds, the rush of its river, the high-pitched shouts of its children; when I breathed the dust of a thousand ancient forms, I felt a presence that did not exist for me elsewhere. I was not concerned with future, I was absorbed with present and past.

In contrast, it was the many facets of Tuscany that gave Mate (2008, p. 255) an emotional connection:

But perhaps the magic of Tuscany is not all in the senses: not just in its food and wine, or its hill towns, or the drama of its ever-changing light. Perhaps its magic is in the treasure we too often neglect – the peace within ourselves.

Similarly, Doran (2005, p. 13) described the way Tuscany made him feel: I spotted a glorious cluster of cobalt-blue grapes as perfect as wax fruit and succulent enough to adorn the brow of Bacchus. I picked one and popped it into my mouth. The sweetness was so pure it staggered me. For a long time afterward I could taste the sun on my tongue. Oh, no. I had only been here a few hours, and Tuscany was already beginning to work its magic. Its insidious charm and inexhaustible natural beauty were seducing me, and if I wasn’t careful, I was going to find myself feeling happy for no reason.

Family ties to past generations gave travel writers in this study justification for searching out this tie to their roots, which often became a very emotional journey. Gentile (2007) described the connection he had with his grandfather while visiting the village where his grandfather grew up as well as some distant family members: It was beauty and drama and history – my history. It was geography – my geography. When my father talked of the beautiful hills and streams where he played as a boy, this is what his mind saw – something vastly different than the smoke-choked steel valley where he spent the rest of his life. Maybe that is why he talked so little of this place: the loss was too painful, the difference too severe.

After travelling around Italy off and on for three years, Paolicelli (2000, p. 268–269) finally makes a connection to his familial roots in Gamberale, a village deeply impacted by the Second World War and its aftermath: I studied the handwriting on the cards. It was unmistakably my mother’s. It made me feel good to know that she had helped these people, even though she’d never told me a thing about the terrible times this village had gone through … La Signora smiled kindly. She took my hand and clasped it both with hers. ‘We are family’, she said. I choked back tears, again.

In another situation, Criswell (2012) reminisced about family Christmases in America and missed

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her family and the traditional feasts, but she now imagines what one would be like in Italy. Laing and Frost (2012) adopted Adler’s (1989) concept of tropes, the narrative arcs concerning travel that have a long history and are still being used today in travel literature. One such trope is Seeking a ‘homeland of the soul’, which is akin to a pilgrimage that focuses ‘on a place that represents or symbolizes one’s values'. As one would perceive, food was a very important and prominent theme authors discussed in detail. More often than not, food descriptions were lengthy, colourfully written and exceptionally detailed. Seller Manzo (2007) described how she only became aware of the emotional importance of food in Italy when she first visited the ancestral home of her husband in Sicily: My first visit to Sicily initiated me into the cult of mangiare, but it was only after marriage to Marcello that I learned of its pivotal importance to the Sicilian soul. Food and thoughts of food may dominate one’s waking hours.

Several authors even gave recipes for their favourite Italian dishes within the text (e.g. Mayes, 1996; Rogers and Gibb, 2009; Shalleck and Munoz, 2007). Furthermore, authors’ descriptions related to how particular places connected with their senses (taste, touch, sight, hearing, scent) and emotions (Rodaway, 1994). Tucker (2007, p. 207) frequently described the meals he enjoyed in and around ‘The Rustico’ with an emotional revelation in relation to his senses as well as with the knowledge that each dish is made with intimate and attentive care by the locals: Then came the pasta – family style, of course. Hand-made strengozzi, which is the local dried pasta in this part of Umbria, in a wild boar sauce that had been slow-cooked for hours until the sweet, pungent flesh of the pig melted into the onions, celery, carrots and tomatoes to form a think ragu that fairly clung to the al dente strands of pasta.

Food, in general and its simplicity, brought forth many descriptions by authors continuously surprised by its delectability. Tucker (2007) describes his emotional connection and experiences with simple food when consuming the homemade lasagne his close friend has made:

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He brought in the lasagna and carved perfect squares for each of us. I tasted it, and it filled me with an odd sense of longing. Then I took the next bite and realized that’s what I had been longing for. Why was this the best lasagna I had ever eaten? Ever dreamed of eating? Because its texture was like a fragrant, silky pillow that disappeared almost before I could fully enjoy it? Because its taste was a subtle blending of flavors so close to one another – eggy dough, sweet, soft tomato, nutty parmigiana, buttery béchamel; a pastiche of pastels, not vibrant oils? Because it teased my senses, flamed my desire, stirred the greedy, gluttonous beast that lies, licking its chops, just below the surface of my cheery, unimposing exterior?

Gilbert’s entire trip was based on deep emotional experiences in Italy; learning the language, being on her own and eating locally made foods. She waxed lyrical about the simplicity of food, of Italian family, and of traditions: There’s another wonderful Italian expression: l’arte d’arrangiarsi – the art of making something out of nothing. The art of turning a few simple ingredients into a feast … I found a market near my apartment, only a few streets over from me, which I’d somehow never noticed before. There I approached a tiny vegetable stall with one Italian woman and her son selling a choice assortment of their produce … for the longest time I couldn’t even touch this food because it was such a masterpiece of lunch, a true expression of the art of making something out of nothing. Finally, when I had fully absorbed the prettiness of my meal, I went and sat in a patch of sunbeam on my clean wooden floor and ate every bite of it while reading my daily news article in Italian. Happiness inhabited my every molecule. (Gilbert, 2006 p. 61, 64)

Instead, Paolicelli (2000, p. 247) described the simplicity of the many facets of everyday life in Rome: I thought about the many hours I had spent riding Rome’s buses. I invariably enjoyed the journey, despite the insufficient seating and the lack of air conditioning. I loved studying my fellow passengers and was touched, every single time, by the tender and loving moments I witnessed between parents and children. There was always a great deal of smiling and touching, smoothing hair, conversation.

The tableau consisting of noisy get-togethers including multiple generations and distant

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relatives and friends, with several-course meals, wine and hours in the company of others was a common one and a space of shared emotional connection: But when Italians say ‘Mangia! Mangia!’ they’re not just talking about food. They’re trying to get you to stay with them, to sit by them at the table for as long as possible. The meals that my family ate together – the many courses, the time in between at the table or on the mountain or by the sea, the six hours spent talking loudly and passionately and unyieldingly and laughing hysterically the way Neapolitans do – were designed to prolong our time together; the food was, of course, meant to nourish us, but it was also meant to satisfy, in some deeper way, our endless hunger for one another. (Esposito, 2008)

Conclusion This chapter assists us in understanding the way emotions are situated within the consumption of places in Italy as communicated through travel book narratives. Travel books, a combination of travel memoir, diary, journal, quest romance and guide book, record tourist moments within spatial and temporal experience and are socially constructed (Rickly-Boyd, 2009). As such, 20 travel books about Italy were analysed under an interpretive paradigm of phenomenology and hermeneutics. Applying latent content analysis ensured that the texts were interpreted cognizant of the context and symbolism with which they were written in order to allow the authors’ original meanings to materialize. Through this analysis, three key themes emerged: transformation, home and belonging, and emotional geographies. Similar to other literary analyses, travel books about Italy conjure up tropes such as the ‘quest for love’ or the ‘quest for healing’ (Laing and Frost, 2012). In these particular narratives, travel writers were less motivated by a quest for love and more so by a quest for healing. In many instances, authors gained a sense of calm and cultural understanding, and were at peace both during their travels and when they returned home (e.g. Criswell, 2012; Doran, 2005; Mate, 2008; Tucker, 2007), but this was more likely because of the ‘quest for selfdiscovery’ (Laing and Frost, 2012). However,

much like Esposito (2008), many authors only realized this while travelling; it was not an initial motivation – their initial motivation was escape, change of pace from everyday life or connecting with family roots (e.g. Hawes, 2001; Tucker, 2007; Vannucci, 2012). This transformation, as self-actualization, brought forth intense feelings for authors as they determined just how much their travel experiences in Italy had changed them. In some cases, it was a new perspective on life, for others, it was the desire to purchase a second home, and for other authors, it was the trigger that initiated their permanent move, perhaps even finding new employment – a life transformation. Travel writers’ narratives also included deeply emotional descriptions that connected them to a sense of home and a feeling of belonging: a search for the ‘homeland of the soul’ (Laing and Frost, 2012). In many instances, authors felt that these aspects had been missing from their daily lives (e.g. Cusk, 2009; Doran, 2005; Hamilton, 2011). In other authors’ narratives, there was a need to return to one’s familial roots, to search out these connections to a home that they knew existed somewhere (e.g. Esposito, 2008; Gentile, 2007; Paolicelli, 2000). In these particular stories, authors shared intimate accounts of searching for family roots, returning to the ancestral homeland and rekindling lost relationships due to emigration, new generations and geographical distance. Relationships have been shown to exist in other tourism contexts between emotions and heritage (Lee, 2015). Lee (2015) also demonstrated a correlation between emotions, culinary attractions and nostalgia. In a similar sense, authors in this study described deeply emotional geographies associated with challenge and change, stories of family connections, and deeply sensuous descriptions of specific foods, wine and heritage landscapes (e.g. Coletta McLean, 2013; Mayes, 1996; Esposito, 2008; Gilbert, 2006; Tucker, 2007). These were not always positive: in many cases, authors included the harrowingly difficult experiences of language barriers, bureaucracy, cultural miscommunications and uncertainties with difference (e.g. Doran, 2005; Gentile, 2007; Criswell, 2012), but this did not deter them from their overall positive senses of place. In so many instances, it was food and family that emerged

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as connecting travel writers to their emotional geographies of place, whether in a trattoria in Rome, a pizzeria in Naples or a friend’s home in rural Umbria (e.g. Gilbert, 2006; Paolicelli, 2000; Tucker, 2007). Tourists are pushed by their emotional needs and pulled by their emotional benefits and are relevant in pleasure-seeking and choice behaviour (Goossens, 2000). Tourists experiencing greater pleasure show an increased level of satisfaction and in turn more favourable behavioural intentions (Bigne and Andreu, 2004). This is likely why the tourists/writers in this study travelled to Italy in the first place, became deeply moved by their experiences and kept returning to visit. Their emotional experiences relating to transformation, home and belonging, and senses of place stayed firm in their mental imagery, remained with them, and motivated them to write, record and publish their stories. As we read these narratives about emotional connections with self, belonging and place in Italy, we want to have these experiences too. Authors of these travel books stressed pleasurable feelings not associated with being a tourist, per se, but of experiencing Italy like a local. In fact, their narratives often included disgruntled descriptions

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of ‘other tourists’ in these places and how the authors perceived they were not like ‘them’ at all (e.g. Criswell, 2012; Cusk, 2009; Doran, 2005; Miklas, 2012; Tucker, 2007). Because of their deeply intimate stories, emotional connections with place and detailed descriptions of tourist experiences, the travel book becomes a place-making and marketing text, much like a brochure, guide book or article in a travel magazine. These narratives are at the nexus of spatial and temporal experience as tourists use multi-sensory experience, material objects and landscape cues to connect memories with contemporary events and personal history (Rickly-Boyd, 2009). Many destinations are literary places worthy of exploring that have yet to be discovered. Acting like an extensively explained word-of-mouth recommendation, travel books are worthy of further interpretation by tourism practitioners and need further examination. Travel books, therefore, are an untapped tourism resource for understanding tourists’ stories of place and how places connect us with our senses, emotions and feelings, and instil in us memorable experiences that remain deeply ingrained in our sense of ‘Being’ (Heidegger, 1996 [1927]).

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Literary Tourism: Conclusions and Practical Applications

Ian Jenkins1* and Katrín Anna Lund2 Faculty of Life and Environmental Sciences, University of Iceland, Reykjavík, Iceland; 2Department of Geography and Tourism, Faculty of Life and Environmental Sciences, University of Iceland, Reykjavík, Iceland 1

Literary tourism is an important part of a destination’s palette and has been a measure of the tourist gaze for perhaps millennia. The chapters in this book have illustrated the extensive appeal that literary texts still have for tourists, prompting them to visit destinations of book settings or places where an author has lived. In many senses it is reflective of the eclectic development of tourism and an echo of a postmodernist gaze in which the market has splintered, creating pastiches for tourists to engage their imaginations in hyper real and more than real tourist destinations. It seems evident that access to literature has changed, much of which has been due to advancements in technology and, to some extent, the globalization of literary tourism. The expansion and variability of new texts has extended the reach of literary tourism to new markets. The physical, printed nature of a book has changed too and books can now be accessed via electronic and digitalized formats, further expanding the immediacy of the text, although this does not appear to have been greatly detrimental to printed book sales. Indeed, the digitalization of text has increased the availability of literature and

introduced another important aspect of literary tourism: the Blog. However, due to the availability of new technologies, major institutions are in decline. The chapter on libraries presents a challenging polemic to their continued existence and proposes where they might discover a new niche in these changing literary times. Strategically there may well be opportunities for tourism destinations to recreate tourist spaces and new products for libraries. Many national libraries are iconic spaces and unique (Bodleian, British Library, etc.), which can transmute the tourist gaze rather like a cathedral and a pilgrim, yet library tourism is hardly ever considered a part of literary tourism destinations.

Effect on Today’s Destinations The diversity of the chapters illustrates the international perspectives of literary tourism. The cultural hegemony of English is somewhat prevalent in this particular book, but all languages have their own literary tourism destinations, as demonstrated by the Indian chapter on literary

*Corresponding author: ​jenkins@​hi.​is © CAB International 2019. Literary Tourism: Theories, Practice and Case Studies (eds I. Jenkins and K.A. Lund)

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tourism. Creating stories and images from literature as seen by Fois-Braga’s chapter demonstrates the eternal demand for both travel and love stories in a country. The efficacy and ethical aspects of paying authors to act out a love story in major global cities is an interesting gaze, challenging the traditional ‘resident author’ exchange within an academic environment. Although clearly controversial in Brazil, the idea is novel and reflective of an aspect of hyper reality. It has also been shown that small communities with limited cultural capital can develop into national and international literary products. The exemplar, from the UK perspective, is the Hay Festival. It is now internationally renowned with international satellite festivals in countries around the globe, including Colombia, Spain and Denmark. The key to Hay’s success was that of books, Hay-on-Wye claiming to be the first ‘secondhand book town’. In essence, it was an organic development created through the vision of one person, Richard Booth. The Hay Festival capitalized on ‘book destination’ as an energizer for ideas and discourse and has developed into probably the UK’s number one book festival; it currently hosts approximately 100,000 visitors a year in a town with a population of just 1500. Opportunity and vision were the key attributes here by a single tourism visionary. Jules Verne’s book The Floating Island was quite prophetic in its imaginary vision of today’s tourist destinations and markets. As in Verne’s discourse, the elite tourist now seeks out exclusive destinations such as Dubai’s Palm Islands and MS The World (the world’s largest private cruise ship). Indeed, currently the tourism industry is being encouraged to develop sustainable destinations similar to the preservation of resources on the ‘Floating Island’.

environmental awareness. This is a challenging treatise which demonstrates how it is possible to change views through impassioned words and texts. ‘Being there’ is an important concept of the novel and other literary texts. Tourists are enthralled reading about a destination, which frequently stimulates wanderlust, ignited by an author. These travels enact different spatio/temporalities, allowing the imagination to travel into hyper and more than real, factual and fictional worlds stimulating awareness of the richness of the surroundings. For example, what must it really like to be in the Wild West? Frost and Laing provide the narrative for imagining ‘frontier times’ and some sense of this history continues to be enacted today through tourist attractions in the region. Furthermore, Blaer shows how metempsychosis tourists enacting the footsteps of contemporary travellers and explorers take on their personas which can be seen as yet another way to follow a text when travelling. One of the reasons people attend literary festivals is to actually hear, see and sometimes engage with an author whom they admire – a real-life experience replacing an imaginary one that a book often evokes. Empathy and emotional links are also prime motivators at many literary festivals, whereby the tourist is attempting to understand or relate to the author’s psyche. A platform for questioning the author about his/her work can also be found at such festivals, creating emotional links between the visitor and the author; this is often part of the reason for attending a festival. There also appear to be forms of ‘communitas’, wherein visitors have a feeling of empathy with like-minded people at a literary festival. This seems to emulate a temporal and ethereal experience often felt at these festivals that vanishes once the festival ends, with little physical evidence remaining that it ever actually existed.

Emotive and Experiential The idea of travel based on a book or poetry might seem rather far-fetched, yet as seen in the chapter on poetry it can be inspirational, linking sustainability with a tourist’s experience. Emotive words can be instigators for change and poems or poetry have been shown to have influenced tourists, especially when linked to

Applying Literary Tourism As mentioned in the Preface, one of the purposes of the book is to foster an understanding of how literary tourism can be designed into tourism products as well as gaining an understanding of how literary tourism products

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function. In many cases literary tourism is a supportive product to an already established tourism destination, even sometimes supplementary to a destination’s arts and cultural strategy. Literary tourism is cited within the context of a cultural segment of the tourism market and in many cases can be considered to be a unique product, much akin to a niche. That said, it is important for tourism actors to understand how literary tourism operates and what utilities can be used to foster literary tourism at a destination. The following are considered important aspects of literary utilities that tourism organizations and entrepreneurs could use.

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Conversely, multi-author literary destinations attract a much wider audience, providing greater commercial activity and development. The larger literary festivals are excellent examples of this; their success is usually based on the premise of numerous authors and developing festivals which have appeal to a wide range of literary interests. The evidence suggests that literary audiences are well educated and from higher social classes, so their expenditure is likely to be higher too. There are also larger numbers of women than men at literary events and sometimes destinations.

Festival and Events Development Thoughts on Literary Tourism Development Knowing the author and the audience The nature of a text or publication will appeal to a specific section of the tourist market and certain authors will attract different types of literary tourists. Categorizing the author and his/her attractiveness to literary tourists is very important. Some authors are clearly extremely popular and will have a wide and long reach to potentially large markets, for example Dylan Thomas. Others are regarded as less popular and more specialized in terms of their body of work. Then there are the multi-author destinations or journeys, creating a combination of literary images and landscapes. For example, Dylan Thomas, with his international fame, attracts tourists to spaces where he lived and worked. But Dylan Thomas is not straightforward in terms of marketing, as there are a number of famous destinations connected to where he wrote and lived: New York, Swansea, London and Laugharne (Wales). This highlights that there are opportunities to develop literary products around his work at all these destinations. Indeed, an annual Dylan Thomas Festival is held in Swansea, Wales, but it is a very small festival designed to explore the authentic representation of his work. Commercialization is not the aim and hence the festival provides little economic benefit to the destination of Swansea.

Literary festivals are excellent commercial vehicles for capturing the benefits of tourist incomes for a destination. The most important criteria is attracting popular authors, so that the visitor can have an experiential engagement with an actual living and breathing author. Purchasing a book, personally signed, is often another essential aspect of attendance for many tourists. But the ‘communitas’ of the visitors is also important, which means imbuing the atmosphere with a literary feel: likeminded literary people. Unfortunately literary festivals do have a specific market and tend to attract an older age group, usually well educated. Furthermore, economic gains are often very short lived, with many festivals having temporal and spatial impacts vanishing after a week or two, only to be recreated the following year. Another important practicality relates to the time of year the festival or event will be held. Literary festivals and events are now commonplace and their powers of attraction will vary depending on the character of a destination and the nature of the literary tourism that is being developed. Finding a unique perspective is a given, as audiences are well versed in literary tourism and its products. Perhaps sometimes smaller community festivals can be a precursor for developing larger festivals in the future, or as some destinations do, combining a literary festival with a series of other cultural festivals at the destination.

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Using a Location’s Opportunities to Engender Repeat Tourism Literary tourism on its own is usually insufficient to ensure a destination’s success, although the ‘book town’ concept suggests that it is possible and certainly some destinations such as Hayon-Wye have survived on this singular product. Rural locations can develop products around literature and become important players in the destination tourism palette. Culture capital is the key here, as some destinations are clearly arts and culturally orientated, which means that adding or developing literary tourism to the strategy is not difficult. On the other hand, developing grassroots literature events can blossom into national and international tourist events. Many of the iconic festivals now on the literary circuit began as small grassroots developments, not unlike many of the fringe festivals that grow around major festivals.

Tourism Agencies and Actors Few literary destinations develop without the support of their tourism NGOs and businesses. The evidence demonstrates that tourist boards are able to sell the importance of literature at a destination to potential tourists. Every country has its famous authors and classic books; with the globalization of literature and the many language translations of famous texts, many destinations now have the potential to be global literary destinations. Support by arts councils and local governments is also a good source of funding for encouraging a literary destination to develop. An interesting aspect of many literary tourism destination successes is the vision and drive of a single or a few tourism actors who have recognized the opportunities for developing a destination and also have some degree of business acumen. Creating cultural capital can be achieved, given the opportunity and drive of tourism actors; who would have thought that a tourism destination could be made from secondhand books? There are now structured programmes to develop worldwide book towns with practical help and support on management and strategy.

Transport Networks With all destinations, transport networks are a key element in encouraging tourism, but they can also present access and sustainability challenges for visitors. Cars still remain the main method of transport for tourists and destinations need to address this issue, especially in terms of sustainability and carbon footprint mitigation. In particular, rural locations are more likely to be presented with this challenge. Yet poor access doesn’t necessarily reduce the number of tourists to an area and can actually enhance secondary spend, especially if the tourist is not a day visitor.

Marketing and Communications Image and brand development is a key element in developing literary tourism and some literary texts are themselves brands. The Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings series of books and films create their own image and aura, which can be enhanced and developed to create themed trails and theme parks. But other more multi-author tourism destinations require branding, which can be developed from a locale if they are to become an international brand. Sponsorship seems to be a key to the success of destinations and in particular events and festivals. Sponsors reflect the nature and development of a literary brand and destination, so caution must be taken on the type and quality of sponsors engaged to develop a literary destination. It is not unknown for certain authors to actually withdraw from literary programmes if they think the nature and type of sponsor is unethical. Literary destinations can have repeat tourists who are those that the mass tourism market misses and appear to be a feature of literary tourism.

Involving the Local Community ‘The community’ is one of those terms frequently used when developing a sustainable tourism destination. However, communities are not homogeneous and have different perspectives, protagonists and desires. Any literary

Literary Tourism: Conclusions and Practical Applications

product requires the support of the local population, which perhaps needs to be part of its development or at the very least kept informed of developments. Unfortunately, the larger the importance of literary tourism, the more often there is a propensity to withdraw from engaging with the community. This is not singularly a literary tourism problem, but one for most tourism developments at destinations. The community does not have to be involved to guarantee success, but it helps to create understanding and cooperation with a friendlier ambience at a destination if consultation is undertaken.

Accommodation Provision Depending on the size of the literary tourism development, accommodation can become a challenge, especially if outside urban areas and if festivals are held at peak times of the tourist calendar. The rise of Airbnb seems to have assisted in helping fill accommodation shortages, certainly for rural locations. Airbnb also has the advantage that the profits go back into the locale and not into corporate chains. As has been shown, certain events create such high demand that accommodation needs to be booked at least a year in advance.

Internationalize Many literary festivals and events regard themselves as being international, but the evidence suggests otherwise and few if any book festivals are truly international. Most literary events tend to attract domestic tourists and a ‘few’ international tourists. However, the image of being an international festival or destination is important and one that should be encouraged. A proper international festival will have the majority of the audience from outside the home country and many of the authors may also be international. Yet specific destinations of single authors can be and are international destinations, as demonstrated by towns such as Stratford-upon-Avon and Dublin. The status and popularity of the

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literary author and their appeal to the international audience is essential.

Sustainable Management Finally, it should be axiomatic that all literary destinations and products are developed within the concept of sustainability. Climate change and other sustainable factors such as plastic waste need to be managed. Perhaps the most visible and significant impact relates to energy consumption; visitors should actually reduce their carbon footprint rather than just be encouraged to do so. Furthermore, social and cultural impacts are often overlooked due to an emphasis on economic and environmental benefits. Social and cultural elements are now a necessary requisite of sustainability, to be managed by the destination, especially with an emphasis on the community being part of any literary tourism destination development. Given that literary tourism is cultural, it seems expedient that cultural impacts are properly managed.

Concluding Remarks Literary travel has always been a part of tourism, although not always fully acknowledged or documented. A number of destinations that have recognized the importance of literature have succeeded in developing a lucrative tourism product. As has been demonstrated, even destinations with no literary base can become literary destinations and there are also other places with a potential literary base that have yet to develop. It is evident that books and narratives have an extremely powerful influence on many readers and at some point this is transferred into a demand to visit a destination. Even fictional characters and destinations can be used to attract tourists. There is still much research to be undertaken within the topic of literary tourism and it is hoped that this book has stimulated further investigation into its potential and the development of new products and destinations in the future.

Index

Note: Page numbers in bold type refer to figures Page numbers in italic type refer to tables Page numbers followed by ‘n’ refer to notes Abroad. British Literary Traveling Between the Wars (Fussell)  6 absences  37 present  41–43 abstract tourism  134 Academia de Filmes  159 accommodation  183 Hay-on-Wye  127 actors tourism  25, 37, 102, 118–119, 181, 182 Hay Festival  124, 125, 126, 128 adventures  54 virtual  142 affluent tourists  126 after-effect, of festivals  100–101 agencies, tourism  182 Airbnb  127, 183 allegorical writing  150 Alphabets (Heaney)  87 alternative education providers  102 alternative residency  150, 156 aluminium  33 Amazon  74 ambulant gloss (Hulme)  74 American frontier  46, 54 American South  143 American West, imaging through novels  46–56 Americans  33 Amores Expressos  149–162 books released  151

project criticism  150–158 ancestral home  171 Angels Camp (California)  143 Anne of Green Gables (Montgomery)  164 anthropo-cosmic tissue of human life (Bachelard)  84 appreciation  90 appropriate behaviour  98–99 apps  91 Aquarellen uit Ital (Duykers)  4 archetypal Westerner  50 archetype, of Eastern dude  51 architecture  107–109, 108 Arctic  77 Arctic Crossing (Waterman)  78 aristocrat  28 natural  50 armchair tourists  4 Around the World in 80 Days (Verne)  76 around the world, human-power  79 arrivals, tourist  3 Art one  159 arte d’arrangiarsi (art of making something out of nothing)  173 artefacts cultural  167 textual  17 artist-tourist  150 artistic tourism  137 arts councils  182

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186

arts festivals  94 Asda  110 assets  61, 65, 66–67 associations, emotional, with Hadoti region  137 attractions visitor, libraries as  106–117, 107 Western tourism  47, 47 audiences, knowing  181 augmented reality  19 authenticity  66, 143 concept of   1–2 of the hero  49 objective  48 of the West  54 author-related places  134 authors  94 Brazilian  149–162 characteristics and motivation  168–169 knowing  181 own experience of place  17 women  5 authorship  159 autism  110 autobiographical narratives  163 autonomous media  48

backstage  158–159 Baltimore (Maryland), Poe connection  145 Bangladesh  136, 137–138 Banglapedia, The  136 Barcelona  59, 62, 63–64, 66 baseball identity  145 beaten track  1–2, 6 behaviour as performance (Goffman)  142 behaviours appropriate  98–99 ethical  34 literature-inspired  145 being  84–85 being there (Da-sein)  168, 172, 180 Being and Time (Heidegger)  168 Belgian visitors  3 visas for  13n2 Belgium  5 Flemish travelers to Italy  3–14 belonging, and home  170–172, 170–175 benefits, indirect, of libraries  110 Bengali literature  136 Beyond the Horizon (Angus)  79 Big Blackfoot River Valley  143 Birmingham (Alabama)  143 Birmingham (UK), Library of   108, 108 blinded tourism  12 bloggers  79 blogs  25, 79, 151, 159, 179 about Vilnius  16, 18–25 definition  18–19 blue sky (Merleau-Ponty)  85

Index

Bodleian Libraries (Oxford)  106, 108, 109, 112 Western Library site  109, 111 Bodley Medal award winners  109 Boekengids  4 Bonde das Letras article (Volpato)  152 book destination  180 book festivals  183 see also Hay festival book sites  133–134 book towns  121–122, 130, 180 concept  182 book-inspired tourists  143 book-tourism  121 books  137, 174–175 purchasing  101 secondhand  129–130 see also travel books bookshop tourism  94 bookshops  60, 121–122 in Hay-on-Wye  121–122, 122, 130 secondhand  121, 130 bookstore tourism  135 bourgeoisie  58 brand, development  182 branding  62–63, 138 destination  107 Brazil  180 Brazilian authors  149–162 Bréf til Láru (Letters to Laura) (Þórðarson)  38 British Library  108 Budapest  156 building projects, Floating Island  33 bulls  144 buses  127 business acumen  182 Verne’s model  33

cafés  21, 60–61, 140, 143 Cairo  155 Calaveras County (California), County Fair and Jumping Frog Jubilee  143–144 capital literary  96 see also cultural capital car transport  128 carbon footprints  127–128 offsetting  128, 130, 182 reduction  183 Cardiff University  128 case studies, approach  118–119 Catholic circles  4–5 Catholic pillar  12 cats  21 causal categorization  25 causal organization  19, 23 celebrities, at Hay Festival  121–122 Celtic Ireland  87

Index

change  32, 169, 174 climate  78, 125, 127–128, 183 Channel 4 122 characteristics of authors, and motivations  168–169 characters  15, 141 circularity of festival attendance (Wilks)  96 cities  110 choice for Amores Expressos project  155 Kota (India)  134, 136–137 literary  57–70 marketing and literature  62–63 City of Literature (UNESCO)  58, 62–64, 66 award criteria  63 civilised East, and West comparison  51 class-contempt  6 clay bells  20, 21 climate change  78, 125, 127–128, 183 climatic factors  34 clothing  51 cowboy  54 co-creation  95, 102 coffee  21 Coffee Inn  22 coffee-shops  21 Comanches  52–53 comical narrative  78 commodification  66 common knowledge generation (Chwe)  102 communication  182 Floating Island  33 model (Shannon-Weaver)  25 community cohesiveness, Hay-on-Wye  128 engagement  130 local  111 involvement  182–183 Companhia das Letras  150, 152, 154 compensation, writer-traveller  158–159 conception of human beings  83 connectedness  84 with surrounding world  83 connecting temporalities  37–39 connections  25 spiritual  25 connectivity online  78–80 consumer preferences  62 consumption  60 aspirational-experiential (Robertson and Yeoman)  96, 101 contemporary re-imaginings  77–80 contemporary travel literature  165 content analysis  168, 174 latent  168, 169, 174 controversy  153 Amores Expressos  151, 152, 155 cooling off, after performances  99 Cooperstown (New York), Cooper connection  145 Cotswoldisation  129, 130 cowboys

187

clothing  51 seasonal work  50 Creative Cities Network (UNESCO)  58, 62, 64–65, 66 creative tourism  60 creativity  66 Creature in the Map, The (Nicholl)  74 criticism see controversy cultural artefacts  167 cultural capital  96–97, 122, 130, 182 acquiring through literary festivals  96–97 Bourdieu  93, 95, 101 embodied  101, 102 Hay-on-Wye  128 individual  98 personal  109 cultural enrichment  109 cultural festivals  94 cultural impacts  129–130, 183 cultural integrity  130 cultural producers  102 cultural resources  95 cultural tourism  60, 64, 133 development  109 cultural understanding  71 cultures crossing  77–78 other  77 Da Vinci Code, The (Brown)  141 Da-sein (being there)  168, 172, 180 dangers of death  54 threatening tourism  34 dark past  78 dark tourism  12 data collection, qualitative method, Hay Festival research  124 day visitors  127 day-to-day needs  110 De Toerist  4 destinations  31, 65, 71–72, 133–134 becoming popular  60 branding  107 development  1 Hay-on-Wye and Festival  120–132 image  54 imaging, Hadoti region  136–137 literary  16, 164 literary-ness of   144 marketing  62 multi-author tourism  181, 182 today’s  179–180 tourist space  118–119 detrimental effect of tourism  83 development literary festivals and events  181 literary tourism  1, 181–183 strategy, for cities  65

188

Index

Devil’s Labyrinth, The (Johnson)  77 diaries  165 Þórbergur’s  39, 40 Dietsche Warande & Belfort  5 digital technologies  72 digitalisation of text  179 dime novels  46, 52 discontentment with treatment of natural environment  78 Discorso sul delitto Matteotti (Mussolini)  5 discourse  3, 6, 10–12 and tourist gaze  16 ‘discover the real’ slogan  109 discovery, journeys of   73 dislocation  128–129, 130 distinctiveness  62, 66 diversification of service, libraries  108 documentaries  151, 159 dog  39, 43 donkey  29 Door oud en nieuw Italië (Throughout old and new Italy) (Thans)  7, 10 Dubai  30 Palm Islands  180 Dublin Book Festival (DBF)  94, 97, 99, 102 dude  51, 52 ranches  52 Dude Ranger, The (Grey)  49, 51–52 Dylan Thomas Festival  181 e-reading devices  137 Eastern dude  51 Eat, Pray, Love (Gilbert)  165 ecological crisis  83 economic spend  127 economic sustainability  125–127 economy, 21st century touristic  30 Edinburgh  57, 62–64, 66 International Book Festival  63 education  76, 93, 95, 102 or entertainment  100 Een klassieke reis in het ‘Schoone Italië’ review (Claes)  4 18th century  29 El Dorado  74 Elizabeth Arden Circuit  155 embeddedness  90 embodied emotionality  165 embodied state  95 embodiment of cultural capital  101, 102 of favourite characters  143 through festival attendance  98–99 emotional geographies, of place  164, 165–167, 172–174 emotional links  137, 180 emotions  42, 164–165, 167, 174 emotive words  180 empathy  180

emulation  79 emulative journey  73–82 texts  79–80 writing  74 genre  79–80 energy  31, 183 English Lake District  164 English travel books about Italy  166–167 enjoyment  102 enrichment, cultural  109 entertainment  95, 102 or education  100 entrepreneurs  33 environment natural  78 poet’s connection with  90 environmental awareness  83 environmental sustainability  127–128 envisioned or fiction-related spots  134–135 ethical challenges  118 ethical values  34 ethno-graphic collective case study, of literary festivals  97 ethnography  97 of absence  37 Eurasian steppe  78 events branding  62 development  181 library-hosted  109 literary  94 literary-related  61–62 programming of, Hay Festival  122 Wales  121 evil, removal of   51 exceptional tests  79 excursionist visitors  127 exhibitions library  108 rare-item  109 expectations  12 Expedition, The (Lewis)  79 expenditure, tourist, at Hay Festival  126, 126 experience(s)  49, 60, 153 acts of   150 literary place  142–143 local  109 meaningful place  168 realms of (Pine and Gilmore)  95–96 of surrounding world, dynamics of (Bachelard)  85 tourism  93 tourist, classification (Cohen)  96 travel in Italy  167 triggers  150–151, 152–153, 159 experiential learning theory (Kolb)  95 explorers early  74 women, polar  77

Index

expressions, Italian  173 extroverts  109 Facebook  112–113 fairs  94 fairy tales  21–22 familial roots  174 familiarity, of place  170 family  174–175 ties  171–174 fascists  5, 11 feasts, traditional  172–173 feelings  164, 167 festival-goers, profiling  97–98 festivalisation of culture  94 festivals  63, 94 see also Hay Festival; literary festivals fiction  11, 46, 60, 61, 164 see also novels; stories field work  149 film-induced tourism  57, 59, 60 films  48, 52, 79–80, 159 Outback  169 financial loss  34 financing of Floating Island  32 public, of Amores Expressos  151, 152, 153–154 fjord  40–41 flagship construction  61 Flemish travelers to Italy  3–14 interwar travel(ogue)s  4, 7 Floating Island Company, Limited  33 Floating Island (Ile à hélice), The (Vernes)  29–35, 180 fly-fishing  143 focused tourist literary gaze  21, 22 Folha de S. Paulo  151, 152, 154, 160n3 FOLIO 64 following-in-footsteps  39–41, 73, 74–77, 78, 180 earlier journeys  75–76 motivations and metempsychosis  76–77 typologies and terminology  74–75 food  173–174 homemade  170 foolish character  10 footsteps  43, 72 genre  74, 77, 80 retraced  37 travel writing  74 see also following-in-footsteps Footsteps of Columbus (Cannon)  75 Forks (Washington)  141 framhjágangan (bypass)  38 Francis of Assisi  11 fraternity  153 freedom dark side of   51 of libraries  106

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café (Flagg)  143 friendship  153 frogs  144 frontier times  180 frontier tourism (Laing and Crouch)  76 frontier travel narratives  46–56 frontier of writing Heaney  87 Valkeapää 89 funding  182 see also financing Gamberale  172 Gaono Street (Vilnius)  23 garland of hand-made clay bells  20, 21 gaze  2, 12 international  130 literary definition  25 focused and scattered  19–22, 25 performing  22–25 loving  84 postmodernist  179 see also tourist gaze gazing, different modes  16 geek  111 genius loci  16–17, 19–20, 21–22 Geography of Literature: textual territories and imaginative maps project (Vilnius University)  18 Geworfenheit (Heidegger)  85 gliding of experiences  150, 159–160 global events  3 global partners  122 goals-actions-outcomes  19, 23 golden hare  20 GPS 39–40, 42 graffiti  20 Grand Tour  5, 7, 72, 164 Goethe’s  8 Il Duce as object of interest  12 and learning  93 grassroots developments  182 gravesite  134 Greek museum media visibility study  112 GSTC criteria  128 Guardian, The  122 guidebooks  75, 135, 165 Baedeker  8–9 guided journey  5 guides, Hadoti region  137 Guildford Library  112 Hadoti region (India)  135–136 Halloween  144 happiness  109

189

190

Index

Hay Festival  61, 120–132, 180 actors  124, 125, 126, 128 celebrities at  121–122 growth  130 plan  127 international status  122 sites new green fields out-of-town  123–124, 124 old Central Grounds in the primary school  123, 123 Hay Festival Foundation  129 Hay-on-Wye  180 book town  121 bookshops  121–122, 122, 130 healing  174 hedonism, social  94, 102 Hemingway Days celebration  144 heritage  59, 66–67 literary  64 heritage tourism  60 heritage/place  59 hermeneutics  167–168 hero  49 higher social classes  126 homage, to location  59 home ancestral  171 and belonging  170–172, 170–174, 174–175 homemade food  170 Homeric description  9 hometown, of an author  136 homology effect  155 host community, and library  111 Hostel Bookers  79 Hour We Knew Nothing of Each Other, The (Handke)  119 HowTheLightGetsIn (HTLGI)  130 human beings  83 human life  85 human-power, around the world  79 humility  77 hunters and gatherers of value, tourists as  91–92 hybrid literary genre  80 hybrid texts (Hulme)  74 hyper-real places (Eco)  17 iconography of buildings  107 icons library  108 tourism  107 identity  66 baseball  145 creation  61 literary, of location  144 illusionary description  25 illusionary traditions  23 image  182 Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings  182

images  66, 107, 119 book  110 nuanced  29 imaginary  59 co-presence of different (Robinson)  62 to reality  62–64 world  15, 25, 57 imagination  157 construction of place  54 imagined places  94 imagining the American West through novels  46–56 Impossible Journey (Asher)  76 In the Footsteps of Scott (Mear and Swan)  76–77 In Search of My Beloved (Trans. Chapman)  38 In the Steps of Burke and Wills (Bergin)  76 In the Wake of Columbus (Ober)  74 income  130 town, from Hay Festival  126, 127 independent travelers  6 Indian art  136 Indian sub-continent  133–139, 165 Hadoti region (India)  135–136 Kota city  135, 136–137 individual  29 induced media  48 industry and global events  3 tourist  5 informal leisure arenas  93 information  102 infrastructure inadequacies, Hadoti region  137 innovation  31–33, 66 innovative display designs, library  113 innovative technologies  34, 137–138 Instagram  79, 113 institutionalised state  95 inter-cultural perspectives  78 interaction, between festival attendees  100 international gaze  133 International Hay Book Festivals  129, 129 international status, Hay Festival  122 internationalising  183 Internet  73, 91, 111–115, 130 interpretation  58–59 of literature  61 intertexts  8 Baedeker  8–9 interviews Hay Festival research  124, 125 literary festival studies  97, 98, 98 intimacy  84–86 introverts  109–110 Inuit society  78 investment, tourism of literary writing  154 Ireland, literary festivals  94 Irondale Café (Birmingham, Alabama)  143 island artificial  31, 33–34 Dubai  30

Index

Islenskur aðall (Icelandic Aristocracy) (Þórðarson)  38 Italian regime, of Mussolini  10–11, 12 Italy all-inclusive tour  13n7 interwar Flemish travellers  3–14 traveloguers  4, 7 interwar travel books  163–178, 166–167 Tuscany  163, 165, 169, 170, 172 Venice  7–8 women travellers  48 jeans  52 journeys  1 emulative  73–82 literary  1 personal growth  110–111 stories about  48 Kairaouine Mosque (Fes, Morocco)  107 katabasis  53 Key West (Florida)  144 Khalva in chocolate (Chuiko)  22 knowing, author and audience  181 knowledge  28, 85, 95, 101–102 Kon Tiki (Heyerdahl)  75–76 Kota city (India)  134, 135, 136–137

landscape  29, 49, 143, 171 is tension (Rose and Wylie)  37 literary tourism  59 majestic  52 tensioned  44 language artistic  150 subtler uses of   83–84 to promote environmentally responsible tourism  83 lasagne  173 latent content analysis  168, 169, 174 Lateran Treaty (1929)  6 lávvu (Sami temporary dwelling)  89 lawlessness  51 learning  28, 91, 108 for fun (Packer)  95 at literary festivals  93–105 from travel  71 and festival settings  95–96 Legend of Sleepy Hollow, The (Irving)  144 leisure activities  95 settings  93 libraries  72, 111, 179 diversification of service  108 and host community  111 innovation design displays  113

191

online  111–115 as a place of change  110–111 as a safe place  109–110 as a visitor attraction  106–109, 107 Library of Birmingham  108 library tourism  106–117, 115 library-hosted events  109 life cycle/stages  168, 169 lifeseeing  60 Liguria  171 links, emotional  180 Lisbon  61 literary capital  102 literary city  57–70 configuration elements  65 literary festivals  60, 71–72, 120, 180–181 after-effect  100–101 development  181 festival-goers, profiling  97–98 as forms of literary tourism  94 fringe events  94 growth of   94 learning at  93–105 see also Hay Festival literary gaze see gaze literary pioneer  134 literary place  58, 134–138, 138, 164 experiences  142–143 quality analysis of literary tourism through  138 literary tourism applying  180–181 concept  133 development  181 features and forms  133–134 new subset  135–138 studies  58 types Busby and Klug  60 Marsh and Butler’s  59–60 literary tourist gaze see gaze literary-ness, destination  144 literaryscape, in Edinburgh  63 literature in city’s fabric  59 place-based, readings in schools  90 literature festivals see literary festivals Lithuania see Vilnius Lithuanian Department of Statistics  17 Local Color Movement  142 local community  182–183 local governments  182 locations  19, 58, 141 of literary scenes  143 and repeat tourism  182 rural  182 lonely travellers  29 Lord of the Rings (Tolkien)  48 film locations  61 Lost City of Z, The (Grann)  77

192

Index

Louvre  141 love  38–39, 118 love story  151, 152, 155, 157–158, 180 luck  20 sign of   20–21 Lux Perpetua (Brown)  88 luxurious tram  32 luxury segment, of tourist industry  30 lynching  50

magic  21 magical realism, of Vilnius  15–27 mangiare cult  173 marketing  61–62, 65–67, 108, 137–138, 164, 182 Dylan Thomas  181 Hadoti region  137 markets mainstream  80 non-elite  80 masculinity, exaggerated and violent form  49 mass tourism  93 Matilda (Dahl)  110 meaningful place experiences  168 media  54, 151, 164 autonomous  48 coverage  130 induced  48 and Mussolini  5–6 new  78–80 social  80, 107, 111–115 themes in  48–55 and tourism links  48 tourists influenced by  47 media tourism  60, 164–165 mediatised tourism concept  48 mediators, characters as  54 memoirs  165 memories  42, 171 meta-tourist narrative  13 metalevel  19 to literary landscape  15 metempsychosis  77 metempsychotic transmigrations  77 Mid Wales Tourism Forum (MWTF)  121 middle class  95 militia  32 millennials  109 Milliard City  31 mining of experiences  150, 156, 158, 159–160 Minnesota, Sinclair Lewis Interpretive Center  145 mission, writer-traveller  158–159 mobility  58–59 modernity, reacting against  49 Montana  143 Montgomery (Alabama)  135 moral awareness  84 motivations  6–8, 76 for attending DBF and MTS festivals  96, 98, 98

and authors  168–169 for travel  109 to Italy  6 motives see motivations Mountains to Sea dlr Book Festival (MTS)  94, 97, 98, 99, 102 movements, tourists’ 19 Movimento Literature Urgente (MLU)  154 multi-artist  89, 91 multi-author tourism  181, 182 multi-method qualitative design, festivals case studies  97 multimedia project, Amores Expressos  152, 159 multiplier effect  127 murder, of Matteoti in Italy  5 Museum of English Rural Life  115 Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft  37, 41 museum-based social media use  112 museums  133 visiting  95 Western USA 54 mythical world, imagined as authentic  55

narrations  30 narrative  1, 15–16, 42–43, 141 analysis  18–25, 25 of blogs and travelogues  25 of travelogues  17 autobiographical  163 characteristics  164 comical  78 deconstruction  23 frontier travel  46–56 and global realities  3 in literary tourism  17 meta-tourist  13 structure concept (Escalas)  19 Tales of Old Vilnius  18 that walk follows  39 travel writers’ 174 travellers’, of Italy  167 narrators Than’s  11 Timmermans’s  9 travelogue  10–11 natures  77 networks  65, 66 New England  142 ‘New History of the West’ movement  47 new media  78–80 New Orleans  140 New York North Tarrytown  144 Public Library  107, 112, 113 New Zealand  48 Lord of the Rings film locations  61 niche tourism  115, 118, 120, 164 Nobel Laureate (1995), Heaney  87–88

Index

Noble Savage image  75 non-fiction texts  164 north  38, 86–90, 143 looking  86, 90 North Pole  77 North Tarrytown (New York)  144 novels  9–11, 64, 66, 76, 78, 109, 140–141, 168 dime  46, 52 Floating Island, The (Vernes)  29–35, 180 imagining American West through  46–56 love story  151, 152, 155, 157–158, 180 Norðurfjörður to Reykjavik walk  36–45 polyphonic  19 Tales of the Old Vilnius (Frei)  17, 17–25 with a Western theme  46 see also Amores Expressos; fiction; stories O Globo  151, 153–154 Óbidos  62, 64, 66 objectified cultural capital acquisition  102 objectified state  95 office work  149 Old Patagonian Express, The (Theroux)  75 On the Road: How to Recreate Jack Kerouac’s Classic Road Trip (Gibbs)  79 On the Road (2012)  79 On the Trail of Genghis Khan (Cope)  78 One Dry Season (Alexander)  76 online connectivity  78–80 online travel stories  15 Orange  122 organisations, relational  22 Orkney  88 Outback films  169 outsiders  54 overtourism  128 Pacific, bamboo raft sailing (Severin)  76 Palermo  12 park and ride  127–128 passion  10, 36, 38, 88, 155, 167 peace  71 Pequenos Exílios (Little Exiles) (Dobra Publishing)  151 perceptions  84, 85 perform places  1 performances literary-inspired  144 tourist  142, 143 and trends  144–145 personal growth, journey of   110–111 personal self-improvement  102 personality branding  61 type  109 Pew Research Center  145 phenomenology  84–85, 174 of perception  84

193

and poetry  84 photos  10 physical and psychological condition  29 pilgrimage  7, 72 secular  133 to Rome  5 pilgrims  15, 25, 164 literary tourists  60 pillars  5, 12 Pinterest  113 place  17, 141, 168 author-related  134 of change, library as  110–111 configurations  58 emotional geographies of   164, 165–167, 172–174 hyper-real (Eco)  16–17 imagined  94 literary  58, 134–138, 138, 164 experiences  142–143 and literature  59 perception  19 performing  1 and poetry (Grigson)  86 safe  109–110 story  1 and tourist gaze  17 place-based literature  90 placemaking literary  64–66, 140–148 strategies  66 places of imagination concept (Reijnders)  48 plastic  127, 183 Pochishe Boishakh  136 poems, places into  86 poetical language  9 Poetics of Space, The (Bachelard)  85 poetry  72, 84–91, 180 of landscape and place, available to tourists  90–91 poets capacity to connect  89–90 as guides  83–92 Hadoti Region (India)  135–136 of the north (of England), Wordsworth  86 polar expeditions  76–77 police  32 policymaking, strategic  66 political conflict, Protestants and Catholics  87 political context  5 political situation  12 political turmoil  31 polyphonic novel  19 postmodernism  168 postmodernist gaze  179 Powys County Council (PCC)  121 Prague  155 predictable unpredictability  96, 101 presence, forms of, in a city  59

194

present  41–43 present absences  41–43 present-day tourism  33 priests  4–5 Prince Edward Island (Canada)  164 Princeton University  135 products, tourism  59 professional writing, websites  79 professionalism  32 Prologue (Brown)  88 prosaic  84 public funding, for Amores Expressos  151, 152, 153–154 public transport  31 public-sector financial support  121 publishers, Hadoti region  137 publishing houses  4–5 qualitative latent content analysis  168 Que Viagem! (What a trip!) (Freire)  151 quests  48, 53, 73, 74, 76, 170, 174 Quit India Movement  135 Rajasthan Patrika (Patrika)  135 rapport  85 re-imaginings, contemporary  77–80 readers dedicated  141–142 interest in a place  25 interpretation  17 Tales of Vilnius  18–25 and writer equality  17 readings  15 place-based, in schools  90 real-life places, associated with writers  94 reality  19, 22, 57, 62–64, 118 Red Cloud (Nebraska)  140 Redescobrindo o Brasil (Rediscovering Brazil)  151 relational deconstruction, of blog entries  23 relational organization, of tourist gaze  23 relationships, between city and literature  58 remembrance, rituals of   142, 143–144 Renaissance period  28 repeat tourism  182 research, travel literature and/or travel writing  165 residency  155–156 alternative  150, 156 artistic and literary  149 official  150 traditional  150, 157 resorts  31 resources, Floating Island  31 respect human standards  34 respite  110 response and responsibility  83–92 responsible tourism  83–84 reviews of travelogues  4

Index

Reykjafjörður  41 Rhinestone Cowboy look  51 rich and poor gap  34 richest Americans  30 Riding the Desert Trail (Selby)  76 risk  54 financial  34 rituals of remembrance  142, 143–144 River Runs Through It, A (Maclean)  143 romantic side of a trip  29 Rome  7, 172 authentic  6 everyday life in  173–174 former glory  11 foundation commemoration  10 pilgrimage to  5 RT Features  150, 153–154, 159 rural locations  182 rural spaces  137 Rustico, the  169 safe space, library as  109–110 St Kevin and the Blackbird (Heaney)  87–88 St Peter’s Basilica (Rome)  9 Sámi culture and language  89 San Francisco  140 Sant Jordí celebration (Barcelona)  63 Santa Maria della Salute (Venice)  8 Sápmi, poet, Valkeapää 89 scattered literary gaze  21, 25 scattered tourist gaze  22 scenes to ‘neutralize’ the well-documented  9 schools, place-based readings of literature  90 Schoonheidsvizioenen (Van Hoecks)  6–7 Scottish Storytelling Centre  63 Searchers, The (Le May)  49, 52–54 second journey (Leavenworth)  75 secondhand books  129–130 secondhand bookshops  121, 130 destination  130 security  129 economic  33 package  32 segmentation studies  165 self-actualization  174 self-discovery  91, 170 quest for  174 self-improvement  111 personal  93, 102 self-reliance  32 semiotics  29 sense of self   76 senses of place  175 Separation of the Herds (Valkeapää)  89 setting, book  143 Shackleton’s Epic (Jarvis)  81 sharing economy  31 Sheep Farming Museum (Iceland)  42

Index

Shilaidaha Kuthibadi (Bangladesh)  136, 137–138 shoes, old  23, 24 short stay visitors  126 sidewalks  31 sightseers  134 signs  16–17, 19, 25, 29, 143 illusionary  22 of luck, white bear graffiti  20, 20 Sinclair Lewis Interpretive Center (Minnesota)  145 sites and emotion  164 for self-education  102 16th century  28 Size of the World, The (Greenwald)  79 Skapo Street (Vilnius)  20 skills  101–102 social cohesion  35 social and cultural impacts, Hay Festival  128–130 social economic classes ABC 126 middle  95 social hedonism  94 social impacts  128–129, 183 social media  80, 107, 111–115 social tourism  133, 137 social unrest  34 socio-cultural impacts, measurement  97 socio-cultural perspectives  77–78 soldiers  10, 32 songs  135 South East Asia on a Shoestring (Wheeler and Wheeler)  78 South Pole  77 South Pole 2000 (Hamilton)  77 Southeastern Literary Tourism Initiative  135 space  22 of cultural enrichment  109 new dimensions of   25 poetics of   85 rental, libraries  109 rural  137 spatial categorization  25 spatial dimension  19 special-interest tourism  133 spectacle  158–159 spectacular moments or aspects  9 spectral ethnography  37 spectral presence  39–41, 43 speed bumps  18, 23, 23 spiritual journey (Reijnders)  77 sponsors/sponsorship  182 Hay Festival  122 stability, political  32 Standard Island  32–33 State Library of Victoria Melbourne  112 stay length, authors, Amores Expressos project  156–158 stereotypes Italy  6–8, 12

195

description  10 of West  51 stories  1, 15–17 created by walking (De Certeau)  43 fictional  25 reality of   22 primary  43 settings for  94 spatial  43 see also fiction; novels story places  1 storyline, Verne’s Floating Island  34 Strahov Library  114 Strandir region (Iceland), Norðurfjörður to Reykjavik walk  36–45 Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, The (Stevenson)  57 suicide  41–42 sun twinkle  20 superiority  6 sustainability  121, 130, 180 economic  125–127 environmental  127–128 Hay Festival impact  124–130 pillars of   124–130 social and cultural  130 symbolic signifier, of location  19 symbolism  168, 174 of clothing  51 symbols  143, 171 sympathetic nature  91 Tagore Memorial Museum  136 Tales of the Old Vilnius (Frei)  16, 17–25 tangible reality  57 tax breaks  153 technology  31, 42, 72, 179 innovation  34, 137–138 modern  79 visionary  32 telephone poles  42, 43 Tell Them to Get Lost (Thacker)  78 temporal categorization  19 of blogs  22 temporality  22 connecting  37–39 Texas frontier  52 text-receptive method (Eggersen)  91 text-to-tourism  15 texts autobiographical  165 emulative journey  79–80 hybrid  74 tourism-centred  165 textual artefacts  18–19 thanatourism  12 themed tours  48 themes in tourism and the media  48–55

196

thinking about tourists  83 This Side of Paradise: Interactive Tourism Edition  135 Thoughts of a Quiet Night (Po)  85 Times Cheltenham Literature Festival (England)  94 Toerisme  5 Tokyo  155 tourism development  1, 181–183 tourism of literary writing  149–162 author selection  152–153 cities to be visited  155–156 concept  149–152 length of stay  156–158 travel financing  153–154 writer/traveler mission/compensations  158–159 Tourism Partnership Mid Wales (TPMW)  121 Tourism Strategy (TWG)  121 tourism-to-text  15 tourist boards  182 tourist destination see destinations tourist experience see experience(s) tourist gaze  12, 28, 118–119, 179 co-creation  25 collective  16 concept (Urry)  16 scattered  22 on Vilnius  15–27 Tourist Gaze, The (Urry)  118–119 tourist-writers  157 touristic vision, Verne’s  31 tours  63 guided, Vilnius  17 literary  57 themed  48 traditional residency  150, 157 Trail of Genghis Khan, The (Cope)  78 tram  31–32 transformation  48, 54, 169–170, 174–175 transition in life  170 transport  31–32, 128 networks  182 travel  6 books about Italy  163–178, 166–167 definition  165 narratives  174 and education  80 guidebooks  75, 135, 165 Baedeker  8–9 writing  60, 72 21st century  77 travelling, as personal growth journey  110–111 travelling-writers  151 travelogues  1, 4, 75 Claes  9 definition  18–19 by Flemish authors to Italy  4, 11 intertexts  8 Mussolini reference  10

Index

narrative analysis  25 resemblance to guidebooks  9 stereotypical nature of   6 Sweet  7 Thans  10–11 Timmermans  4, 8–9, 10 Verschaeve  8 about Vilnius  16 Walschap  12 Travels with a Tangerine (Mackintosh-Smith)  74–75 Treasure Islands (Stephenson)  78 Trekways of the Wind (Valkeapää)  89 trends, and tourist performance  144–145 triggers  150 experience  151–152 tundra  89 Tuscany  163, 165, 169, 170, 172 TV Cultura  159 Twilight books  141 Twitter  79, 112 UK Post Office’s 9th Annual City Costs Barometer (2017)  17 Umbria  171 Under the Tuscan Sun (Mayes)  163, 165, 170 UNESCO Creative Cities Network  58, 62, 64, 65, 66 Cities of Literature  58, 62–64, 63, 66 Heritage list  17 unpredictability, predictable  99, 101 urban planning, in city branding, Kavaratis  61–62 value, tourists as hunters and gatherers of   91–92 values ethical  34 of place  141–142 Vastu Shastra  135 Vatican  6 Veja Magazine  151, 154, 157–158 Venice  7–8 Vilnius  16–27 blogs about  16, 18–25 Tourist Information Centre  17 violence  50 Virginian, The (Wister)  49–51 virtual adventures  142 virtual reality tours  113–115 visas  13n2 visibility  112 vision  1, 30, 31 visionary technology  32 visionary writer  30 visitation library  115 Library of Birmingham  108 and social media visibility  112 VisitBritain  107

Index

visitor attractions, library as  106–109, 107 visitors excursionists  127 middle-class and middle-aged  126 numbers  107, 123 short stay  121 VisitWales  121 Visų Šventujų Street (Vilnius)  24 visual clues  16, 19–20, 25 Vooruit  5 vouchers  109 Voyage of Italy, or, A Complete Journey through Italy, The (Lassels)  5 vulnerability  91–92

Walden Pond  143 Wales, festivals and events  121 walking  36–45 wanderlust  50 Washoe Tribe of California and Nevada  145 water  31 weather  21–22 rainy  21, 22 websites  79, 112 Welsh Government  121 West  48, 54 cure  49 tourism in  46–48 Western, male-centric focus  50 Western frontier (USA), tourism in  46–48 Western tourism attractions  47–48, 47 Westerner, archetypal  50

197

Wild West  47 Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre (Goethe)  8 windows into different lands  142 wisdom and types of competences (Aristotle)  95 witch hunting, Iceland  41 Woman who shot Mussolini, The (Stonor Saunders)  12 women  165 authors  5 equality, renounced  50 polar explorers  77 travel books by  168 travel writers  76 travelling to Italy  48 World Tourism Organization  3 writer-traveller, mission/compensations  158–159 writers  30, 94 Brazilian authors  149–162 from Hadoti Region (India)  135–136, 137 and reader equality  17 women  76 writing  133, 151 allegorical  150 emulative journey  74 travel  60, 72, 77–78 see also tourism of literary writing Wyoming  54

Yearbook of Tourism Statistics  3

Zane Grey Country (Arizona)  54 zombie, quelling of   41

CABI – who we are and what we do This book is published by CABI, an international not-for-profit organisation that improves people’s lives worldwide by providing information and applying scientific expertise to solve problems in agriculture and the environment. CABI is also a global publisher producing key scientific publications, including world renowned databases, as well as compendia, books, ebooks and full text electronic resources. We publish content in a wide range of subject areas including: agriculture and crop science / animal and veterinary sciences / ecology and conservation / environmental science / horticulture and plant sciences / human health, food science and nutrition / international development / leisure and tourism. The profits from CABI’s publishing activities enable us to work with farming communities around the world, supporting them as they battle with poor soil, invasive species and pests and diseases, to improve their livelihoods and help provide food for an ever growing population. CABI is an international intergovernmental organisation, and we gratefully acknowledge the core financial support from our member countries (and lead agencies) including: Ministry of Agriculture People’s Republic of China

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Literary Tourism Theories, Practice and Case Studies Edited by Ian Jenkins and Katrín Anna Lund Literary tourism is a nascent field of tourism studies, yet tourists often travel in the footsteps of well-known authors and stories without fully acknowledging how the power of the written word affects many of their tourism journeys. This book provides a wide-ranging cornucopia of literary tourism topics, fully exploring the nexus between the written word and travel. It includes tourism stories using a wide range of texts and narratives based on different sources connected to tourism. Furthermore, the book: • Provides a grounding in the theoretical perspectives on literature and the tourist experience. • Explores practical applications of literary tourism, such as destination promotion and creation, impacts of literary tourism on a destination, responsible tourism and the effect of imaginary journeys on a sense of place. • Uses global case studies to study literary tourism in action. Appealing to a wide audience of different disciplines, it encompasses subjects such as literary festivals, historical journeys, poetry’s affect on tourism and how narratives create a sense of place. The use of these different gazes within the book demonstrates how significant and far reaching the effect of literature can be on influencing travel, tourists and tourism, making this book an important read for researchers and students of tourism, social science and literature.