The Lure of Escapist Literature

Guest blogger, Jane Bradley

When it comes to fiction, for many people, it’s all about escapism. From salacious and sexually explicit stories of erotic adventures to tales of teenage magicians, werewolves and vampires, there’s no denying that there are big bucks to be made from marketing fantasy.

JK Rowling was the bestselling author of the last decade. The Harry Potter series has sold more copies, and been translated into more languages than any other book, with the sole exception of the Bible. From the books, films, and merchandise, JK has netted over a billion dollars. And it doesn’t end there.

There is a long list of multi-millionaire bestselling writers who’ve found fame and fortune scribbling escapist fiction, spanning numerous audiences, genres and ages, from Agatha Christie to Enid Blyton via Barbara Cartland, Stephen King and Dr. Seuss.

Now, some might argue that all forms of entertainment could be seen as escapist. Whether it’s avoiding eye contact with the other commuters on your train to work by getting engrossed in a romping bodice-ripper or a sinister crime thriller, or consoling yourself after an epic day at work by catching up with the cast of your favourite soap opera, the pressures and stresses of reality mean we all need an escape at times.

But is there a gender divide when it comes to escapism in fiction? Do our reading choices reveal more than we realise? According to academics and cultural philosophers like Slavoj Zizek, it’s all to do with trends. And those trends can be read as a response to or barometer of the wider social, cultural, and even economic contexts.

For instance, the popularity of lurid pulp fiction magazines, pocketbooks and so-called ‘penny dreadfuls’ featuring tales of sleaze, violence and vengeance during the 1950s is largely attributed to readers in post-war America and UK wanting to escape from the legacy and impact of WWII. Similarly, economic analysts have recognised the impact of the current global credit crunch; although most people have had to pay closer attention to their finances, escapism through entertainment has become more popular than ever, with figures rocketing in the gaming and cinema industries.

When it comes to escapism, nostalgia usually has a part to play, too. According to some critics, that’s the reason the Harry Potter franchise is so popular among adults as well as children; because it combines two staples of traditional children’s fiction; boarding schools and magic. Adored and devoured by far more readers than could ever have experienced first-hand the reality of being at boarding school, stories from Enid Blyton’s Malory Towers to Billy Bunter and St. Trinian’s and were essentially fantasies, in which children could escape from authoritative overlords, their parents, whilst still having the routine and authority figures required to prevent all-out anarchy being unleashed.

Author Michael Baywater explains in his book Lost Words: “Gothic public schools with arcane rituals; midnight feasts, crushes, pashes, hero-worship, bullying, snobbery, and above all, no parents in sight. This was the diet, and it nourished children from all backgrounds, whether they attended Gothic public schools or the local Bash Street comprehensive. And then suddenly, the tap was turned off.”


School stories fell out of fashion, interest waned from authors and readers alike and the ‘young adult’ genre blossomed to become essential teenage reading, with its blend of romanticism and realism, and graphic renditions of adolescent sexual inadequacies and insecurities.

“But,” says Michael Baywater, “the hunger grew until someone, finally, found a magical way round the unspoken ban…For what is Harry Potter but another schoolboy in another school story; perhaps at a school more explicitly magical than most, but still a school nevertheless. And now we are back where we always wanted to be: in a Manichean world, free from invasive parents, where good and evil are clear, where loyalties are pre-defined and the outside world is held at bay… at least for the time being.”

Then there are the theories about escapist fiction, cinema or other forms of multimedia being used as a multi-layered construct which on one level could be read as pure fantasy, but on another could be interpreted as allegorical retellings of real-life events. Continuing with everyone’s favourite lightning-scarred and bespectacled wizard as an example, a cursory glance at the ‘Politics of Harry Potter’ Wikipedia page is all it takes to find theories analysing themes of ethnic cleansing, indoctrination and terrorism in the books, and there have been a number of dissertations and doctoral theses examining these ideas.

Safety is an integral part of escapism, and probably explains its increased popularity at times of economic or political turbulence; when the world seems sad, bad and dangerous at every turn, retreating into a fantasy make-believe world with its own set of codes and challenges can be a comforting option. And safety goes some way to explaining why romance and erotica rank so highly when it comes to women’s reading choices.

As Jane Holland of Embrace Books explained when I interviewed her for For Books’ Sake earlier this year: “The focus with all fiction is to help readers explore other aspects of themselves, to lose their own ‘realities’ for a space within the pages of a book. If our titles help curious readers to test their horizons, emotionally or sexually, or to explore their desire in a safe environment, then that’s a bonus. But we’re not just about sexuality. Romance can also have a powerful cathartic effect on a reader, allowing them to experience the extreme highs and lows of a new love affair without having to be unfaithful to a current partner. This has a similar effect to watching a tear-jerker love film or a powerful theatre play, where you are left feeling ‘cleaned out’ emotionally afterwards. People need to feel like that occasionally. And not in a simplistic way.”

For readers of romance and erotica, fiction can be a ‘safe space’ through which they can explore and experiment with sexual desire without the real-world risks. A feature on For Books’ Sake about British erotica imprint Black Lace (sadly now defunct) had women from all over the world tweeting and commenting about how erotic fiction had helped shape their sexual identities.

There may be broad gender trends when it comes to the type of fiction we’re escaping into, but the function is the same whether the tales feature sci-fi robot assassins, vampire sex, historical scandals or Victorian lady detectives.

For most of us, escapist fiction is the equivalent of slobbing out on the sofa, eating junk food and watching endless re-runs of sitcoms and soap operas. They may not always be mind-expanding, challenging or provocative (although of course there are exceptions to every rule), and if they were the only options on offer, we’d probably be having hissy-fits in no time. But depending on the circumstances, they can be a comforting, safe way to temporarily escape into another world. And that’s something we all need at times.

Jane Bradley is the founding editor of For Books’ Sake, the intelligent but irreverent website featuring books by and for independent women. For Books’ Sake has been featured in print and on TV in the UK, and earlier this year they even got to meet Margaret Atwood.

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