Last week,yandex ten porno izlemek I read and finished a book that I have always known about but never quite came around to picking up: The Loverby Marguerite Duras. The bestselling classic, rooted in remnants of Duras' childhood, was written in 1984 and left a persisting literary legacy. But how I was reminded of it – and perhaps why I read it in under two hours – was unexpected. The title of the book was emblazoned on an aesthetic Instagram post, shared by model and actor Kaia Gerber.

Gerber just announced a formal iteration of her four-year-old book club, entitled Library Science. The Loveris just one of the literary choices Gerber has promoted to fellow readers and followers. Her book club, founded in the early days of the pandemic, began with Sally Rooney's Normal People. Since, her bookshelf has comprised of Oscar Wilde, Jia Tolentino, Marguerite Duras, Jeremy O. Harris, Kiley Reid, Tennessee Williams, and Ling Ma, encompassing genres from plays to memoirs to poetry. She has conducted interviews with writers and public figures like Lena Dunham, Jane Fonda, and Emily Ratajkowski, which have been broadcast to thousands on Instagram Live.

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Gerber's digital book club is impressively curated, intentionally placing emphasis on "new voices, writers to watch, overlooked, or underrepresented stories". And it's also an addition to a phenomenon that has long existed: the celebrity book club. Pop star Dua Lipa hosts a similarly thoughtful monthly book club through her site Service 95, where she has interviewed literary noteworthies like Khaled Hosseini, Patti Smith, and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and recommended reads like Klara and the Sunby Kazuo Ishiguro and The Right to Sexby Amia Srinivasan.

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The celebrity book club is nothing new. Oprah's headline-making book club has been around since 1996. Several have followed suit, from stars like Reese Witherspoon and Emma Roberts to singer Amerie to host Graham Norton. Rapper Noname created a Black-led book club and cooperative, one that has 12 chapters around the United States, includes a prison program that has sent over 25,000 to incarcerated individuals, and focuses on uplifting the works of marginalized writers.

Some of these clubs are also part of a larger content-making ecosystem: Reese's Book Club selections often precede the actor and Hello Sunshine production company owner announcing movie adaptations; Roberts' club Belletrist has produced Netflix and Hulu productions, including camp vampire drama First Kill. The book club-to-movie pipeline, here, is a money-making machine. These clubs, arguably, facilitate cultural relevance and engagement.

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Many are sold on the concept, or at least loyal to one public figure's reading recommendations. Dallas Athent, a writer and artist, tells me that she's an avid listener of Norton's Book Club on Audible, often purchasing book recommendations based on the podcast's selections. "The club is engaging because [Norton] brings on a panel of commentators, one of who suggests the book, and the other of which reads and critiques it. It's kind of like a live-action Goodreads," she tells Mashable.

Alexandru Voica, who works in AI and communications, is a fan of Amerie's book club. He tells me he initially watched her YouTube videos and now follows the channel more closely, finding the review and recommendations "very insightful."

Of course, the celebrity book club can also be contentious. Some readers are skeptical of the recommendations coming out of such clubs. Arunima Mazumdar, a writer who worked in publishing (and also hosts her own book club centered around Japanese literature), is one such person.

"I feel most of the books recommended by celebrity book clubs are either books their friends have written, which in most cases aren’t the finest, or they’re books that are usually plugged in by a publishing house, like a collaboration of sorts – paid or barter, that depends," she tells Mashable. When it comes to her own club, she says, "I’d never promote or recommend a book because the author or publisher is pushing for it."

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The endurance of these celeb clubs, and its new-age versions offered by Gerber and Lipa, are emblematic of a greater movement online. Reading is not a trend, despite many online suggesting otherwise, but literary groups and clubs are arguably facing a renaissance.

TikTok has undeniably aided this, not only through its mammoth-like BookTok community, but also through its emphasis on the aesthetic merit of reading. This has been proliferated by celebrities, too – Emily Ratajkowski has been noted for donning literary merch, while Kendall Jenner is frequently photographed reading "alt lit" at beachside hotels and yachts (with some of her choices leading to their authors being sold out on Amazon).

But beyond the idea of reading, people across generations are likely turning to book clubs to foster a sense of community. As I previously wrote, BookTok and apps like Fable are offering readers a chance to share and discuss stories amongst like-minded people. A scroll through comments on Reese's Book Club, Library Science, and Service95 show just how much people seem to be engaging – and even having back-and-forths.

While the celeb-founded book club has its critics, their intentions aren't all that bad. They may expedite the next Netflix production, but they are also playing a role in platforming the publishing industry, drawing attention to lesser-known writers, and lifting book sales. How can that be bad?