Where have all the writers gone?

Last week I finally got around to seeing an exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery of portraits from Vanity Fair magazine. They had a collection of portraits from the teens, twenties and thirties, and then a selection from the eighties, nineties and the current decade (Vanity Fair had it's heyday at the start of the century, went out of business and was then revived, hence the 40 year gap).

There were some really gorgeous portraits on display, the one here of Gloria Swanson is probably my favorite- old Hollywood glamour at it's best.One thing that struck me as I perused was the sheer number of authors featured in the earlier years, and the almost total lack of them in the later pictures. "Of course you'd notice that" Liz said in her you're such a nerd tone. But it was strikingly true; early Vanity Fair featured HG Wells, Ernest Hemingway (kind of a hottie), Virginia Woolf (definitely NOT), Gertrude Stein, James Joyce, Yeats, Auden etc. etc. etc. Later Vanity Fair had a few good ones; Arthur Miller and Martin Amos were there in the early nineties, there was one of Seamus Heaney but after that, there was not a wordsmith to be found among the swanky stars and glitzy politicians.

"That's because there are no great authors today," Liz said. "That's so not true!" I exclaimed a little to loudly, garnering some evil looks from other patrons (British people are excellent at doling out death stares, the looks you get for jostling someone on the tube are truly terrifying sometimes). "I mean authors you would teach in class, not Tom Clancy," she continued. Exasperated, I started listing a string of modern greats; Ian McEwan, Salman Rushdie, Margaret Atwood, John Irving (not a bad looking guy in my opinion), Zadie Smith (almost model pretty), AS Byatt.

"Who?"

"She wrote the book Possession."

"Wasn't that a movie?"

I rolled my eyes and went to investigate a portrait of Thomas Hardy. I don't think you can honestly blame the magazine. Named after the novel, Vanity Fair is of course going to have shallow priorities- what's hot, what's popular. I think in the 1920's, writer's mingled easily with movie stars; all shared a space in the public conscience. The early pictures featured not just writers, but dancers, conductors, stage actors- a menagerie of different artistic talents. These days I guess Vanity Fair's audience is far more interested in reading about Gwyneth Paltrow (who starred in the movie Possession- and was featured in oh, half a dozen of the portraits), than AS Byatt. Maybe Vanity Fair still does features on authors, I don't know, I don't read it, but if they do they don't afford them the same glamorous film shoots with Annie Liebowitz that they grant George Clooney and Lindsay Lohan.

I'm not passing judgement on Vanity Fair- their portraits are still quite beautiful and it was an awesome exhibition. I just think it's sad that we as a society we devour information about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes but can't give Alice Walker the time of day.

CORRECTION: Liz would like me to tell you all that she is not "ditsy" and is in fact smart! Actually, she is one of my better read friends, so I really should give her a break. Liz is smart! Tell your friends!