I stumbled across a fascinating website the other day. Unbound, in the spirit of other crowdfunding sites like Kickstarter, is a platform for writers to pitch their novel ideas to an online audience of readers. If a reader likes the sound of a particular pitch, they can pledge money to help the writer reach the target amount they need to write that book and get it published. The reader, in return for their pledge, will then receive a copy of the book once it is printed/published in digital format. They can even get rewards – from having their name automatically included in the book’s acknowledgements to receiving a fancy collector’s edition if they pledge a certain amount.
Unbound has been described as a ‘revolution’ in publishing. I would agree, but only in a very literal interpretation of the word.
With the launch of Unbound, it seems that publishing has come full circle, returning to its medieval origins. The service essentially functions as a form of 21st Century patronage.
Patronage has been an effective form of supporting writers dating back to the pre-print era. A patron, with money to spare and an interest in books, would provide financial support so that a particular work they desire to read/be associated with can be published. Other than spreading the provided funding across a great deal more donors, how is Unbound’s system that different from medieval book production?
The early days of the print era offer a particularly interesting insight into the Unbound system of the day. In the preface to Thomas Malory’s Morte Darthur, English printer William Caxton describes how
[a]fter that I had accomplished and finished divers histories as well of contemplation as of other historial and worldly acts of great conquerors and princes, and also certain books of ensamples and doctrine, many noble and divers gentlemen of this royalme of England camen and demanded me many and ofttimes wherefore that I have not do made and imprint the noble history of the Saint Grail and of the most renommed Christian king, first and chief of the three best Christian, and worthy, King Arthur, which ought most to be remembered among us Englishmen tofore all other Christian kings.
Caxton’s ‘many noble and divers gentlemen’ pose a near identical function to Unbound’s readers: providing financial support so that a work they desire to be read/associated with can be published. Patrons could be publicly recognised in the work, either in writing or in image, as is the case with David Aubert’s miniature of patron Margaret of York in his Traités moraux et religieux. While certainly not as grand, doesn’t Unbound do something similar with its inclusion of all the donors’ names in the finished book?
Of course, in Caxton’s case, these ‘gentlemen’ are ‘demand[ing]’ him to create something at their suggestion (‘the noble history of the Saint Grail and of […] King Arthur,’ in this case already written in manuscript form by Malory), as opposed to Unbound’s authors proposing works of their own volition, from which readers can select their favourites.
But remember why these patrons are approaching Caxton. He has already made a name for himself, having ‘finished divers histories’ and many other books for which he has become well respected. Likewise, the most popular writers on Unbound are those already possessing significant status: today (02/03/2015), the most popular project on Unbound’s homepage belongs to Raymond Briggs, of The Snowman and Father Christmas fame. Even those who don’t immediately recall his works can find them listed on his author page. Compare this to Caxton, who makes sure to mention his previous experience with ‘Godefroy of Bouillon, of whose acts and life I made a book unto th’excellent prince and king of noble memory, King Edward the Fourth.’
Briggs has now received 106% of his funding target, arguably as a result of his name and experience. Rather impressive, certainly. But, for the moment at least, this modern iteration of patronage is inconsequential compared to its medieval equivalent. Unbound’s reader-donors have enabled Briggs to compile his newspaper column into a book. By contrast, Caxton’s ‘noble and divers gentlemen’ helped establish an entire printing culture in England.
Old Books, New Books 