Elizabeth Gilbert, the acclaimed author of Eat, Pray, Love, has called off her recent novel, The Snow Forest. Initially set to be published in February 2024, it now has no scheduled release date. Gilbert stated that she decided to halt the publication to honor her potential Ukrainian readers, who had voiced their dissatisfaction on Goodreads over the book’s setting in Russia.
This instance of self-cancellation prompts several intriguing questions. Gilbert’s novel, set in mid-20th century Siberia, revolves around a group of people who withdraw from society to resist the Soviet government and protect nature from industrialization. The novel likely carries significant messages for today’s audience. Some critics argue that a few hundred people orchestrated this event, describing it as the actions of a “fascistic minority” following the directives of far-right nationalist groups. Novelist Francine Prose has expressed concerns that Gilbert is yielding to online harassment. Others argue that a historical fiction novel that humanizes Russians is not equivalent to taking sides in a war. They view the objections to the novel as cruel online shaming, driven not by genuine concerns for helping the marginalized, but by a desire to cause pain, specifically to Gilbert.
Conversely, Gilbert’s move, along with the arguments from those who demanded the cancellation, can be seen as part of a longstanding tradition of boycotts, divestments, and sanctions, a strategy often with significant symbolic and cultural components and a history of effectiveness. The strategy of non-violent non-cooperation is longstanding, from American colonists’ resistance against British rule to India’s independence movement, where Indians boycotted British goods and produced their own.
Significant victories in the fight against South African apartheid were achieved not through violent resistance but through international campaigns that isolated the regime culturally, economically, and in sports, inflicting social and psychological pain that eroded the system’s ideological foundation. Similarly, Czechoslovak resistance during the 1968 Soviet occupation involved distributing information, broadcasting resistance updates, changing street signs, and wearing national symbols, which, combined with protests and sanctions, led to greater non-cooperation later.
The Singing Revolution in the Baltic states during the mid-1980s saw large gatherings and displays of outlawed flags and songs. In 1989, the Baltic Way—a human chain stretching 675 kilometers—garnered international attention and led to their independence declarations in 1991, preceding the Soviet Union’s collapse. Since then, civilian resistance has been a key part of Lithuania’s defense strategy.
In Serbia, the student-led Otpor! movement employed symbolic protests, satire, and concerts to help depose pro-Russian president Slobodan Milošević. Similar tactics were used in Ukraine’s 2004 Orange Revolution to remove pro-Russian president Viktor Yanukovych.
Suzanne Nossel, CEO of PEN America, called Gilbert’s withdrawal “well-intended” but regrettable, emphasizing that fiction and culture foster understanding and empathy and should not fall victim to war. Yet, Nossel acknowledges that culture is not only affected by war but also a battleground for propaganda, intimidation, and cultural annihilation. Despite this, Ukrainian creatives have defended galleries, museums, and collections, and used various art forms to maintain national identity and promote peace, while also aiding in reconstruction efforts. Symbolic resistance on the front lines, such as singing and defiant acts toward Russian soldiers, has also been significant.
In Russia, peace activists have held protests, and many have been arrested or fled. Subversive street art and online critiques of the war have emerged despite government crackdowns. These forms of non-violent cultural resistance complement sanctions, technological disruptions, and trade restrictions imposed on Russia.
According to Sergey Faldin, a young Russian anti-war protester, the impact of sanctions will eventually diminish people’s fear and lead to Putin’s downfall. Gilbert’s decision to cancel her novel might seem minor compared to the warfare and military power, but words and ideas can have profound effects, and many small actions can accumulate to create significant change.