Reading the recent Sydney Review of Books essay, Could Not Put It Down, it’s difficult to work out who its author, Beth Driscoll, intended to insult the most: readers for liking middlebrow books, writers for having the temerity to write them, or publishers for bowing to the demons of commerce by printing them.

Throughout history, writers, musicians and artists have created works of art to keep the wolf from the door and satisfy their paymasters. Without that commercial imperative, there would be no Michelangelo, Mozart, Shakespeare or Dickens. What is so shameful about writing a book and hoping it sells well?

The answer is simple: nothing.

Better Reading names Australia's top 100 books: not all great novels, but good reads Read more

Driscoll’s essay uses three recent publications by Australian female authors who to her mind typify “middlebrow” fiction. Middlebrow is such a loaded term. Condescending, definitely. But to whom exactly? She begins her attack by talking about the way these three books – The Landing by Susan Johnson, The Other Side of the World by Stephanie Bishop, and Relativity by Antonia Hayes – are packaged. The images of women or children on their covers have been deliberately chosen, she asserts, to appeal to the middlebrow readership.

Who are women. Because statistically, about 85% of books are bought by women, mostly between the ages of 40 and 65. True as that is, there is an implied criticism that these book-buying middle-aged women have the audacity to read diversely. As if, as readers, we should sustain ourselves on a diet of literary foie gras, staving off cravings for the occasional newspaper-wrapped fish’n’chips or a comforting, nourishing stew.

Publishers are in a difficult business and, like any business, are accountable to their financial masters. But deciding which books to publish is as much a decision about how well written they are as it is how many copies they will sell.

Recent figures show that sales of literary fiction are in decline. Bestselling Australian authors such as Liane Moriarty, Kate Morton and Michael Robotham provide the financial cushion that allows publishers to invest in lesser-known writers they believe in. Literary writers are beneficiaries of these middlebrow successes as much as anyone.

That the publisher chooses to package a book to maximise its appeal to as broad a market as possible is business knowhow. The author has nothing to do with it.

Driscoll’s further assertion that “it is not just critics but also readers who notice this packaging” is nonsense. Literary critics often make decisions about what to review long before the book is published. Critics cannot afford to judge a book by its cover because often, well, there isn’t one yet. Their decision is more likely made from the quality of the blurb in the publisher’s catalogue some six months earlier and the existing reputation of the author. So too for readers: the track record of an author outshines a cover. Let alone how prominently a book is displayed in the bookstore.

Dame Stella Rimington drew the wrath of literary critics in 2011 when she was chair of judges for the Man Booker prize and had the audacity to suggest that one criterion for judging should be “readability”. This year’s Miles Franklin award surprised many when Sofie Laguna’s elegantly simple The Eye of the Sheep won over the more literary (but equally marvellous) novel The Golden Age, by Joan London, now a Patrick White award-winner.

Simplicity also factors into Driscoll’s definition of middlebrow. But literary or commercial, writers write with an overriding desire to get their message through. Simplicity is an art form, impenetrability is plain (or not so plain) poor writing.

Sofie Laguna wins Miles Franklin prize for her novel The Eye of the Sheep Read more

Winning a major literary prize gives writers a sales boost, but by Driscoll’s measure a book’s literary worth diminishes as its popularity rises. As Stephanie Bishop questions in her stinging response to Driscoll: “Why would a large readership mean a lack of prestige?” Driscoll is determined to demean the reader for liking a book and the author for having written a book readers like. Middlebrow perhaps, but surely there is a middle ground, too?

In the end, the essay and resulting debate have done Johnson, Bishop and Hayes a favour. Talking about books, especially if that involves controversy, is a surefire way to sell more. Readers enjoy being part of the conversation, which is why we go to literary events and form book clubs.

Saying a book has popular appeal as well as being well written is bound to entice readers to pick up a copy. For that the author, the bookseller and the publisher can only say a big thank you to all us middlebrow, middle-class, middle-aged and (apparently) female readers.