MODERN NOVELS.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19958, 27 November 1926, Page 26

MODERN NOVELS.

PUBLISHED IN THOUSANDS. A DEPLORABLE GLUT. EXPLANATION OF THE POSITION. When wo stand in front of the large displays 01 current liclion and iilerarure exhibited in the windows of the many bookselling establishments of the city w© wonder, like Coldsnnta s gazing rustics, that one small head could ever grasp or understand *he imposing array of letterpress displayed lor sale. There seems to De no limit to the number of books of all sorts, descriptions and sizes that are offered to the reading public. The ceaseless stream of novels that continues to pour from the printing presses of England shows no sign whatever of diminution. According to a prominent Dunedin bookseller, also connected with a wellknown London publishing house, nearly 5000 novels were released last year, and he stated that those who know are quite convinced that this year that total will be exceeded Speaking of the shoals of novels that pour into the country, the bookseller in question contained that it was impossible to handle one tithe of the literature offering. The glut of novels, he said, was not welcomed by retailers from a commercial point of view, and those who had the welfare of the reading public at heart feared that the common {good was not being served as it might be by such an indiscriminately supplied quantity of light reading matter. Moreover, continued our informant, with such a glut it was absolutely impossible for reviewers to do justice to their task. They could not do more than hastily glance through only a small proportion of the books published. “You can readily imagine,” he said, “the task which confronts the reviewers of any of the large London dailies, which to my certain knowledge are exected to comment on at least 100 novels weekly at the height of the season.”

Speaking of the conditions in the trade, the business man interviewed said that things were busiest in the late autumn when householders turned their attention to the preparations for the cold winter nights when the best prospects facing the people were a fireside and a book. The trade reached its ebb in the summer time when there was less reading, because more time was spent out of doors. But, although the demand for reading matter changed with the changing seasons, the genera] complaint of the trade was the inordinate supply of material that was continuously being rushed at them for disposal. The genera! complaint of publishers, said our informant, was that their books were not reviewed as they should be, though they were constrained to admit that a great deal more space was now devoted to books than was the case formerly. And the most curious thing about their outcry was the fact that they deplored most bitterly the glut of novels for which they themselves were responsible. They insisted that the vast majority of novels published to-day did not pay their way. According- to the estimate of a representative of one of the most wellknown successful London publishing houses, more than 90 per cent, of the novels issued annually were financial failures. He could vouch for that fact himself. Another, publishing concern frankly admitted that it published seven or eight frosts for every success, and consequently each good seller had to bear the burden of loss occasioned by the succession of failures which preceded it. “But why do publishers continue to issue such a percentage of failures?” asked the reporter. It would be supposed that as more than nine-tenths did not pay the cost of production, that business principles would forbid the carrying of such unprofitable work. It might be asked why, if there were so many “duds,” so few publishing businesses went bankrupt. Yet there would seem to be little fear of such a position facing publishers, for they are mostly sound and solvent business men of high standing. In reply to the reporter's question, the man of books said the explanation of such an apparently mysterious business policy could be found in the eternal lure of the fickle goddess Chance. The publishing of novels, he said, had become a gamble, in which the stakes risked were not high But the possibilities resulting from the issue of a best seller were alluring enough to whet the appetite of the most canny. In his opinion, there had never been a time when as much money could be made out of a successful novel as at present. The reading public had been vastly increased, and the facilities for reaching the reading public were now legion. It was because the money to be made out of successful novels so far exceeded the losses on financial failures that publishers issued so many hundreds of books that could never pay expenses. It was a gamble, and publishers, like the rest of us, had to make a plunge to do any good. Thus it was the reading public found itself faced with an array of light literature in which there were so many failures that it turned from buying books and adopted the doubtful expedient of subscribing to three or four circulating libraries.

Asked what constituted a good seller from the publisher’s standpoint, the bookseller said that if he could see 2000 copies of a book a publisher considered he was doing well, but still there were many degrees of success. A best-seller might reach a sale of 40,000 copies, from which the publisher would reap as his share of the profits about £2OOO, unless, of course, the author had already achieved a reputation which provided him with the opportunity to extract particularly good terms. Thus it would be readily perceived how completely the publication of one best-seller would wipe out the losses incurred on many less popular issues. If 2000 copies of a novel by a new author were sold the publisher would bo able to clear not only all expenses, but a small profit of about £7O, after paying the writer a similar sum on the basis of a 10 per cent, royalty. If only a thousand copies were sold they would barely cover expenses, and the author would get nothing, or next to nothing, for his trouble.

“But there are substantial profits to be made of novels that fall far short of the popularity of best sellers,” said our nformant. “An author who secures for himself a public, and -with each successive publication commands a modest sale of from 5000 copies upwards is a source of regular and certain profit to the company which has been fortunate enough co secure his books. Once a public is assured for a certain style of hook the chance of utter failure after initial success is very small, and the publisher can simply go about with the assurance that with each novel released he will profit to the credit of a few hundred pounds clear.” Another reason advanced in explanation of the present deplorable glut in novels was the keen competition among publishers in their search for new authors whose books would sell. Some of the more cautious insured themselves against too heavy a 'loss by getting the authors to contribute towards the cost of production, but most gambled on the chance of one success paying for many failures, ami hoped that an author gaining only a moderate success with his first book would prove a source of good profit with successive efforts. It was impossible for a publisher, he said, to tell beforehand whether a book would sell well, and the odds wore nI! against a first book being a success. The public taste in novels was so erratic that neither publisher nor bookseller could hope to state with any degree of certainty whether or not a book would sell well. But they knew what books were selling well, and this was their guide, but a fur from infallible one. Concluding, the dispenser of books said

sadly that in far too many cases literary merit had nothing whatever to do with popularity, so that this attribute docs not figure largely in the mind of the publisher contemplating the issue of any book. He must be guided entirely by public fancy if he is to make a success of his business. That was why so many of the books sent out every week were such deplorable productions from (lie literary standpoint.