Before broadcasting, people read to one another to pass the time. Scary thought, eh? Embedded in popular fiction are examples not only of the practice, but also of its use in influencing an audience. Take this example, from P.G.Wodehouse.

The devious spin merchant is, of course, Jeeves who suggests its employ to effect a marriage between a young Mr. Little and a waitress called Mabel:

“The method which I advocate is what, I believe, the advertisers call Direct Suggestion, sir, consisting as it does of driving an idea home by constant repetition. You may have had experience of the system?”

“You mean they keep on telling you that some soap or other is the best, and after a bit you come under the influence and charge round the corner and buy a cake?”

“Exactly, sir. The same method was the basis of all the most valuable propaganda during the recent war. I see no reason why it should not be adopted to bring about the desired result with regard to the subject’s views on class distinctions.

If young Mr. Little were to read day after day to his uncle a series of narratives in which marriage with young persons of an inferior social status was held up as both feasible and admirable, I fancy it would prepare the elder Mr. Little’s mind for the reception of the information that his nephew wishes to marry a waitress in a tea-shop.”

“Are there any books of that sort nowadays? The only ones I ever see mentioned in the papers are about married couples who find life grey, and can’t stick each other at any price.”

“Yes, sir, there are a great many, neglected by the reviewers but widely read. You have never encountered ‘All for Love,’ by Rosie M. Banks?”