Arts Vanity: Rachel Maksy Hugged Me Last Week

As the new Books Exec, I would like to talk about someone who should be my worst enemy. Faced with the daunting prospect of a 400-page hunk of text versus YouTube, many of us fall down the rabbit hole and spiral into a wonderland of 20-minute videos with brightly colored thumbnails. Influencers, one could argue, will lead to the death of reading — the scurvy curs!

But that defensive mindset, rallying around books like we’re in a medieval motte-and-bailey castle, ignores the beautiful pockets of the internet where creativity can flourish and nerdy people enjoy fun things. Which is, after all, the point of reading for most people.

I was at the Boston AURORA concert last week when my eye snagged on a head of brilliant red curls, braided into a crown. The woman was wearing a long plaid skirt with a brown cardigan and worn leather satchel — the peak of autumnal cottagecore. Something about her seemed oddly familiar, as if we’d both been hobbits in a previous life, having second breakfast at the Prancing Pony Inn and discussing the proper way to cook potatoes with Sam Gamgee.

Then she turned around and my world shifted — it was Rachel Maksy.

Rachel Maksy!! A content creator on YouTube who uploads videos on everything from Joan of Arc cosplays to the making of a Toothless puppet (the dragon from How to Train Your Dragon). Her videos always seemed suffused in a warm, geeky glow. Random bursts of music from “The Lord of the Rings” and jokes about Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” find their way into her videos, alongside her distinctive vintage fashion and ability to turn styrofoam boards into anything. Meme culture, classic Brit Lit, and 2010s DIY all blend together to create Maksy’s unique appeal.

“Trust the process” and “like what you like” are probably the two key messages from Maksy’s videos. She inspired me to sew my own lunchbox. Her wonky facial expression and insistence on being a “floor troll” were both mannerisms that my little sister and I picked up and bonded over. I always look forward to Friday evenings because it means she’ll post a new video.

What do you do when someone you’ve looked up to for years is right there — right there! — at your favorite artist's concert — she has the same music taste! — and this is only the second concert you’ve ever been to so you need to cut awkwardly through the crowd — you’re not sure if you’re allowed to — and suddenly you’re right in front of her —- and she’s seen you.

“Er, hi, Ms. Maksy! I just wanted to say I like your, er, videos!”

There’s a scene in the book “Wednesday Wars” where the protagonist Holling Hoodhood meets his hero, Mickey Mantle. The famous baseball player treats him with disdain, causing the 7th grader to reflect: “When gods die, they die hard. It's not like they fade away, or grow old, or fall asleep. They die in fire and pain, and when they come out of you, they leave your guts burned. It hurts more than anything you can talk about.”

Thank goodness that’s not what Rachel Maksy was like.

Joy and warmth seem to radiate off of her. I can’t remember how it happened but she was saying thank you so much, hugging me, and asking me if I wanted a photo… I stood there grinning like an idiot while my lovely boyfriend held my bag and took photos because he knew I’d want them later.

As we walked away, I wanted to wilt from embarrassment — “I like your, er, videos!” — while simultaneously feeling the happiest I’d ever been. It was like Christmas morning being better than Christmas Eve.

Influencers are demonized as shallow, profit-driven individuals obsessed with fame and Stanleys. But there are some people who create art and upload it on social media as a way to make other people’s days a little bit better.

To Rachel Maksy, I am deeply grateful for your content and the world you’ve created online. I love the endless enthusiasm you have for costumes, crafts, and whimsical home renovation. Not only are your videos a safe haven from the stresses of ordinary life, they also have helped me be more confident in myself and my own interests.

To the book community, we need to put down our pitchforks and let down the drawbridge. Beyond the moat might just be new friends that express similar values in different ways. In addition to reading “Little Women,” we can also celebrate influencers who create a historically accurate 1860s version of Jo March’s clothing, or paint the insides of the book cover, or even make a fan edit of Timothee Chalemet and Saoirse Ronan.

YouTube will not be the death of reading. It merely acts as a space for us to discuss, create, and share ideas about the fictional worlds we love so much.

—Incoming Books Executive Laura B. Martens, aspiring Hobbit, can be reached at laura.martens@thecrimson.com.