Literature and social movements continue to be inextricably linked. This is not a new concept. Although many would attempt to refute it, few members of modern society do not resonate with this fact. Politicians undoubtedly know the power of literature. It is this knowledge that fuels book bans, censorship, propaganda, and the targeted censure of journalists. In an age where the election of Donald Trump and the imminent implications of Project 2025 have the likes of The Handmaid’s Tale rising 400 places on the Amazon Best Sellers list, to read feels like a statement, or perhaps, an act of defiance.
It is a comfort to know that historically, in times of political panic and uncertainty, people have found resolve and comfort in literature. There have been countless instances in which books, essay collections or poetry have ignited revolutionary behaviour. The Wildfire, written under one-party rule in 1985 by Lung Ying-Tai, has been credited as contributing to the (eventually successful) democratising efforts in Taiwan. Silent Spring by Rachel Carson is a haunting novel which imagines a small American town which experiences a spring wherein all life—from animals to children—has been ‘silenced’ by anthropogenic misuse of pesticides, initiating the environmental movement and leading to the ban of DDT (the chemical which thinned pockets of the ozone layer to dangerous levels).
Anna Akhmatova’s poetry has been described as a ‘tool for resistance’ in Stalinist Russia. In her acclaimed work ‘Requiem’ a most poignantly depicted moment occurs between herself and a woman outside a stone prison. The woman simply turns to Akhmatova and asks, “Can you describe this?” At Akhmatova’s accession, “something like a smile passed fleetingly over what had once been her face.” This perfectly encapsulates Akhmatova’s goal in writing. Despite her poetry not igniting a revolution, she stood testimony to the plight of her people, an act of incredible bravery and resilience which acted as a great balm to a people who suffered a great deal. Sometimes, when resistance seems impossible, the most invaluable feeling is simply that of being seen.
It is easy to feel that one’s actions are inevitably insignificant in the current political landscape. Many young people have become understandably disillusioned with political participation. It can often feel as though there is no action to be taken on the individual level that can solve the problems that plague us. When battling this disillusionment, personally, I often begin by asking myself, “Can I describe this?”
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