This article is based on this Dutch article of Martijn Benders
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**The Mystery of Baudet and Wigman**
Why does it always have to be Martinus solving all these mysteries, I wonder aloud sometimes. At this point, I have Beurskens on his knees over email. He sputters and stammers after I mention that Marc Reugebrink was actually brought into the Bezige Bij as a poet in 1988 by Erik Menkveld. He then nominated and allowed his own editor to win the Buddingh’ Prize. Suddenly, it also dawns on Beurskens that Esther Jansma, wait a minute, wasn’t she programmed for the festival in 1998? And didn’t she let her own programmer win the Buddingh’ Prize?
What’s the difference between nepotism and networking, anyway? Because that’s exactly the distinction these people seem to lose sight of. They think this is a form of networking, but it’s not that at all. The distinction between nepotism and networking lies primarily in intent, the degree of honesty, and the impact on equal opportunities:
1. **Nepotism** means giving preferential treatment based on personal relationships, without consideration for qualifications or suitability for the position. It focuses on favoring acquaintances, often in situations where objective criteria are ignored.
2. **Networking**, on the other hand, is about building relationships and connections within a sector or field, often based on mutual interest and professional respect. It’s usually not about blindly handing out jobs, but rather about developing contacts that can lead to opportunities in a fair way.
The nepotism is already present in making an editor of Bezige Bij a programmer at Poetry International (that’s already a conflict of interest(1)) and further placing the commercial director of Bezige Bij on the board. In short, ethical awareness in the literary world mostly excels by its absence.
It was Guus Middag (Uitgeverij van Oorschot) who called Menno Wigman a copied voice in the NRC, after which Wigman was not nominated for the Buddingh’ Prize.
Now, onto the next mystery. Why is Baudet always carrying around Wigman and never mentions any other poet?
There we have the culprit: a poem, specifically from Menno’s debut collection *‘s zomers stinken alle steden* — lavender, lavender, bathing in a medieval spring — rhetoric that a feudal lord like Baudet finds utterly exhilarating.
Mystery solved, and it’s not even 8:00 in the morning. Huub Beurskens, by the way, penned a *wiedergutmachungsschnitzel* about Menno Wigman in the *Reactor* in the form of [this lovely review](https://www.dereactor.org/teksten/poezie-van-de-tegenspraak).
But I still feel the need to express something about the concept of debuts and debut prizes. In my own case, Rob Schouten threw “A collection with obesity” at me, which may seem like a jab at my weight, but it’s a jab coming from someone at the center of power, sitting on the funding-distributing seat at the Dutch Foundation for Literature (which then denies the grant application, even though it was the best-reviewed collection of that year). Outsiders who haven’t gone through the process often don’t understand how sensitive the position of a debutant is.
You lay everything on the table for judgment. In my case, a collection I had worked on for at least ten years. And when someone at the center of power casually involves your weight in their judgment, that’s pretty dystopian.
It’s not surprising then to see that two out of the three nominees in my case decided to hang up their poetic hats. If you don’t understand that being a debutant is a sensitive position, you don’t belong in the literary world, I’m sorry. If you behave this way, especially through this glaring nepotism, you are knowingly saddling people with trauma.
For many writers, debuting is a lifelong dream that requires immense effort, where every sentence and every line is weighed and considered in the hope of delivering the perfect work. That this effort is then written off with a comment that seems to criticize not just the work but also the person behind it can cut deeply. Especially when these words come from someone who has the power to shape a writer’s future.
If you have no regard for the sensitivity of a debutant’s position, then you are not fit to have a role in the literary world, I’m sorry. Yes, perhaps in today’s literary world, that’s true. But that world is held together by nepotism.
Let me stop here. On to lighter subjects: after the roots reggae project, I’m working on an album for JMH, Je Moerhussel:
The clever thing about this text, of course, is that it could very well be a text by Slick Rick himself, a rapper I happen to be a big fan of.
It’s quite the challenge to come up with a good rap album.
And I pretty much live from challenge to challenge.
I hope to have the album done by January.
Best regards,
Martijn Benders
(1) And once again, it’s a debutant. Debutants are easy to control because they still have to establish a career. Someone who already has a career is harder to boss around. The fact that debutants are constantly playing a significant role points to a very nepotistic structure. (And then it’s also a debutant who was their own editor…)