The Kolkata Book Fair has been around since 1976. I’ve grown up with it. As a child it was an annual ritual. I saved up my pocket money and spent days roaming from stall to stall picking up books I liked - mystery novels, books about animals, Tintin and Asterix comics.
I always looked longingly at the Encyclopedia Brittanica stall, the hardbound volumes with gold lettering imposing and every so tempting. But I didn’t have the money and we didn’t have the space. But I liked to look.
At that time the book fair was just a place for a bookworm to run wild. But I didn't know why the Kolkata Book Fair was special. Now I do.
It is Asia’s largest literary event. Unlike the famous Frankfurt book fair it’s not a trade fair. It’s meant for people like me, the general public, the readers not the distributors. It is the world’s largest non-trade book fair. And the most attended.
And this year marked its 48th edition.
ANNOUNCEMENT1
This is Sandip Roy in Kolkata.
In the old days my bookfair excitement was about the books making news in London and New York. Mysteries, crime thrillers, adventures. I bought books about rock music and pop art and craft books because the West was cool and out of reach in Kolkata.
Now that’s not the case. Publishers like Penguin Randomhouse, Simon and Schuster and Harper Collins have set up publishing houses in India. The Indian writing scene in English is bustling with both literary fiction and rom coms.
CASH PAYMENT
The Book fair, despite its 400 stalls, is no longer your once-a-year date with books. In fact these days sometimes the fair seems to be the operative word not books
There are musicians performing. Folk music from different parts of the state.
SONG
Quiz competitions. With excited emcees trying to drum up crowds.
QUIZ
The food court does more business than many of the book stalls. Candy floss, icecreams. Biryanis. fish fries.
FOOD
And a bit of proeslytizing. Free bibles and Korans
BIBLES
And stalls selling courses guaranteed to bring success in MBA exams
LOTTERY
And for many in the crowds it’s just a family outing. Like a picnic. Or a cheap date spot for a young couple. The booker winners and New York Times bestsellers are no longer the big draws. The Americans put up a pavilion but mostly try to sell subscriptions to the American centre library.
US Pavilion
The Encyclopaedia Britannica no longer has even has a stall. No one wants that anymore. At least not physically when you can just get it online.
Now I realize for me the attractions have changed.
The Bengali books from little publishing houses are the draw. I find books I dont find in normal book stores because they are too niche. Books about Bengali surnames and folk rituals and the history of drinking in Kolkata. Or Bengali limericks
LIMERICK
Under one big tent are dozens of tables devoted to little magazines, even more niche publishers. Who put out labours of love perhaps on the birth centenary of some Indian film director or Bengali speculative sci fi. Or queer rights. Or a literary voice against sectarianism and communalism
LITTLE MAGAZINES
What keeps the Book Fair alive though are not the mega publishers with fancy pavilions but these little ones with heart. At the Little Magazines stalls there are rows of tables, some 200 little magazines. Each comes with just one chair. An extra chair costs 7 or eight rupees a day, about 10 cents says one of the magazine editors.
EXTRA CHAIR
And then there are the even littler magazines. Like Alok Dutta who is a walking stall.
ALOK1
Stories for fun, stories to entertain he cries.
He’s a book fair fixture. A white bearded bespectacled man, he has a cardboard crown saying he’s been coming for 50 years though this is the 48th book fair. He wears a sandwich board advertising his writing. 10 rupees or 8 cents a sheet. He writes little stories to make you laugh he says
ALOK2
But he has little time for interviews. He has sheets to sell. I’ve been covered by all media he tells me dismissively
ALOK3
Or there’s Runu Mullick, a grey haired woman in a sari, who went around with a rose and a bag of poems, handwritten in Bengali and photocopied. her poems about things she seen, the covid lockdown, the woman who sells lozenges on a public bus
She was selling 4 newly minted poems.for Rs 5 a sheaf. That’s six cents which is a steal if you ask me. And an anthology of poems by other poets like her pay as you please.
RENU1:
A book fair must have big publishers and fancy pavilions, but people remain its beating heart.
This is Sandip Roy in Kolkata for KALW