- Your first book, The Business of Books (L’édition sans éditeurs), was published in the United States in 2000. What was the reaction of Americans in the business? Did it advance their thinking or lead to new proposals about independent publishing?

This book was translated into about twenty languages. Everywhere, people in the publishing business saw in it what was happening in their own sphere. In America, reactions were mixed. For the most part, they were very positive: there were a lot of very good reviews, which confirmed the reality of the situation I was describing. To my great surprise, the book was therefore well received. With two or three exceptions, which you’d expect: journalists cited people I had blamed and who obviously didn’t agree with me.

As for changing their thinking, it’s too difficult: it’s rare that a person would entirely change his opinion by reading a book. No, I think that it confirmed and reinforced what many people thought – as is often the case with books. Many young publishers discovered that they were unaware of part of the history of publishing; some came to us to thank us for it or to apply for a job.

When the book came out, the number of not-for-profit publishing houses was already increasing, like in France, like everywhere. One of the important issues, for us at The New Press, was to encourage others to do the same thing. It was also a matter of showing bookstores and journalists that there was still an audience for serious books of this kind. In general, when a publishing house decides to stop publishing a certain kind of work, it tries to rationalize its choice. The management of large conglomerates say for example, “there is no audience for these books, nobody is interested in French literature,” or “it’s not worth it.” And so it was important to show them that yes, it is worth it, that there are still people who appreciate our editorial projects.

- You split your time between Paris and New York. What similarities and what differences do you notice between the American book market and the French market?

As I wrote in Le Contrôle de la parole, there are stunning parallels in terms of distribution. When you think about it, it’s odd that in France, where the Lang laws have now been in force for 25 years, independent bookstores only represent 18 to 19% of global sales figures in publishing. It’s the same proportion as in America. Moreover, there are many more independent bookstores in Paris than in all the United States. In New York, in 1945, there were 350 bookstores; there are now about ten left. You would have thought these bookstores would have a more important role, that they would be better at pushing books that aren’t best sellers. In both countries, this infrastructure has been weakened. Not so long ago, the concentration in America was much more acute than in France. But, with the Hachette-Vivendi merger (because after all Hachette was able to buy out 42% of Vivendi) the situation has been reversed. Now, in France, two thirds of production are from the big publishing houses; the four independents are having a hard time. France is more and more like the United States in this domain; it’s very serious.

But in France there are still many readers of literature in translation: if you look through Le Monde, you can see that it publishes more reviews of American literature than the Times. They are almost too pro-American. Translations from languages other than English are also much more important. In bookstores, there are shelves and shelves of German, Spanish, Italian literature, etc. You don’t see that in America, where translations are rare. That doesn’t mean that if translations existed and were covered in the media, a taste for foreign literature wouldn’t be demonstrated. That is a huge difference. As for best sellers, they play the same paramount role everywhere. But there are different systems: literary prizes barely exist here. There are prizes, but they don’t really drive sales. In France, there is an encouraging fact: the coup they tried to organize around Houellebecq’s last book did not succeed. Bidding wars for supposed best sellers are still uncommon, even if their “quality” is the same as what we find in the United States.

- There is a lot of talk about a crisis of literature in translation in the United States. What do you think of the European initiatives to favor the translation of foreign works? Do you have any advice?

It would take hours to answer this question. The problems are different depending on the region. The Japanese, for example, have a very generous grant program for translation, which encourages the purchase of rights, but for the most part, the books they propose are not ones that can be translated. They are mostly works that are so concentrated on Japan that it’s difficult to find an American audience for them… It’s a shame. For Germany, for France, there are translation grants, but in general they only cover a small percentage of the real costs. Furthermore, there are two types of costs when you translate a book. The first is the cost of the translation, which can be much greater than the author’s advance. The second is the shortfall due to the fact that sales will be very weak. If a State, a foundation, the European government pays 25% or 30% of translation costs, that’s not enough. This is where the “French Voices” translation campaign, a partnership between the French Embassy and the Pen Ame 1rican Center, is encouraging and will possibly have some good result (1)

The problem is complex... In the old days, big public libraries bought a large part of the books in translation. Now, their budgets are such that they no longer have the money to do it. There also used to be a semi-certain assurance of collaboration with the British, but that has also disappeared. We have translated many very good books for which we did not find an English partner, including books written by Nobel Prize winners. All this works together to make the situation more difficult.

That doesn’t mean that we can’t resolve the problem, and the initiatives of the Book Office are, I believe, very useful. Basically, we need to send some young people to Europe to see what’s going on there (2) and try to help the university presses to specialize in European literature. In fact, after The New Press, the main translator of French books is the Nebraska University Press. That says a lot about what’s going on in America. The French government spends an enormous amount of money to bring authors here – often celebrities – who essentially speak to a francophone audience. From my point of view, that’s a bit of a waste...

(1) The objective of this initiative is to publish thirty new translations of fiction and non-fiction in three years (2006-2008). Each book will receive a grant for the cost of translation ($6,000) and will have a preface written by a great American writer. Equally important is to create a new network of independent bookstores and book clubs.

(2) In February 2007, The Book Office of the French Embassy in the United States, in partnership with the German Book Office and the French-American Foundation, will organize a trip to Europe (Paris and Berlin) for nine American publishers and journalists.

- In your opinion, what are the best reasons to publish, as you do, authors of French expression? The French literary tradition or the richness of the francophone contribution, for more substantial content?  

Both, naturally. You can draw a parallel between what’s happening in France today and the English experience. English literature from old colonial countries were very successful here, especially Indian authors. Unfortunately for France, a large part of francophone literature come from either Maghreb, or “French Africa” which are relatively unknown to Americans. So there isn’t the same resonance, the same interest, the same habit of thinking about these countries. However, for years we have published books by Tahar Ben Jelloun, who has an audience. On the other hand, for Caribbean authors, we should be able to have some success. There is a new, post-colonial life in France that should have an effect here.

Moreover, there are many good authors in France itself, be they Echenoz or Volodine. In the tradition of Claude Simon or Marguerite Duras, today there is still important and interesting creation, which should be able to be published here. In the domain of non-fiction, there are very important French books on contemporary politics… which are points of view that should be heard in America and that, unfortunately, are heard less and less. La Guerre sans fin, which was a very good book, was published; unfortunately, it came out during a time where America – I say America, but I mean the American media, not Americans – didn’t want to hear any criticism about what was happening in Iraq. That’s going to change, I think.

- What are the main obstacles that make it difficult for contemporary French literature to have an audience in the United States?

Lots of French books are very narcissistic. Too often, these are books on the thoughts of one person about another. That just isn’t very attractive to foreign publishers. For this reason, the next to last book that we published by Toussaint, Faire l’amour, didn’t get much reaction in the press here. But it was very well presented, it had a beautiful cover, it was well written and rather narrative. But it was already on the edge of this area where the Americans aren’t so enthousiastic. The other day I was at a conference in Spain with Robbe-Grillet, who was saying that nobody had bought his books in years and years. But this problem didn’t start with the New novel; it has always existed for a particular kind of French book.

With essays, you have to take into account the disapproval of everything that comes from France. In any case, I believe this had some effect in the media. However, there are areas where the French experience could have been useful for America. Yet in France there are very few of this type of comparative study – between the Algerian war and the war in Vietnam for example. It’s funny to see that even the Pentagon has screenings where they show the Battle of Algiers to American generals… Even now, when all these very interesting studies on the history of slavery in France are being published, they are almost always monographs. It comes back to the same problem of the French university: in France, the young researcher has to do something very precise, very painstaking, very microcosmic. But even when we talk about the suburbs, for example, why don’t we ask what the politics of immigration are like in other countries?

- You were talking about Houellebecq, and the failure of his last book despite its elaborate staging. Jonathan Littell’s success galvanized and traumatized French publishers. The Anglo-Saxon model, with agents and bidding wars, seems to be winning…

I think we can’t talk about Littell’s case like something typical because, after all, he’s an American. He has an English literary agent who went to sell his book in other countries. The fact that this agent kept the subsidiary rights, as in all Anglo-Saxon contracts, went without saying – and this was talked about a lot in France. And the advance wasn’t enormous, unless I’m mistaken. Gallimard was surprised by what happened in terms of sales. It’s not as if someone said to them, “here is a best seller already completed, and you’re going to pay a million dollars.” I think they paid about 30,000 euros or something like that? For a book that’s almost a thousand pages, which they weren’t sure anyone would read… I wonder how many people read it; we never ask these questions. There is a very well known story of L’Etre et le Néant, which was missing pages 40 to 80, and only two people complained to Gallimard. In any case, this wasn’t the Anglo-American prototype of a best seller. This technique only works when you have a sure-fire best seller, which normally should sell.

On the other hand, the other day in Le Monde, there was a laudatory portrait of another agent – someone terrible, who did a lot of damage. This portrait was shameful, flattering and incorrect. The journalist suggested, “But why don’t you come open an office in Paris?” I wrote to the paper, which asked me to write an article in response (to be published). French naïveté, which doesn’t see the true dangers, is stunning…

If the Anglo-Saxon model was applied, it wouldn’t necessarily be dramatic. There are some very good agents in France, who have been working for a long time. Likewise, most American books have long been represented by totally decent agents, who protect authors without blackmailing publishers. No, that kind of literary agent isn’t bad. The conglomerates whose financial stability depends on the number of best sellers published annually (5, 8, 10) – there is the danger. They are willing to spend whatever it takes, even more than it takes, to get them. That starts a bidding war: on the one hand, you pay more that you should for a book; on the other hand, there’s no money left for other books. What worries me the most is the situation at Seuil, where La Martinière said “every book must be profitable.” That is where the damage begins.

- Soon we are going to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of Albert Camus’ Nobel Prize. In your opinion, did he leave a legacy in the United States?

I just wrote a book which is in part about the 40’s and 50’s in America and France. In the 50’s, Camus and Faulkner represented the “state-of-the-art intellectual” in the United States. These were the two major players, and all students had to read one or two of their works. They were part of a kind of intellectual curriculum. In much the same way, both of them talked about a racist society, which they accepted without “asking too much.” In the 50’s, American politics were very centrist. Camus’ The Stranger was the perfect moral voice for the time; I doubt that is still the case.

On the other hand, it should also be noted that it was the only book by Camus that was required reading for students, particularly because it represented a period in time. Some years, hundreds of thousands of copies of The Stranger were sold, compared to barely 10,000 other titles. This wasn’t what it was like in France. You have to see one thing: it’s not that people wanted to read it, it’s that they had to read it. They were told, “here are the two books you have to read this semester.” What would be interesting would be to look at the annual sales figures for The Stranger. To see at what point it declined. You’d have to ask Vintage Books for the sales figures.

André Schiffrin’s next book will be published in February by Melville House Press (A Political Education) and Liana Levi (Paris-New York aller-retour).

New York, Jan 2007