Papers and Proceedings of the Twenty-Third General Meeting of the American Library Association Held at Waukesha, Wisconsin, July 4-10, 1901

Part 7

Chapter 73,995 wordsPublic domain

To one who has had an insight into the publishing business, the enormous mass of manuscript that is annually submitted to each of the great publishers is simply appalling. They are compelled to employ a corps of "readers" to cull out that which is worthy of consideration by an intelligent and skilled publisher. Much that come to hand has been hastily prepared by persons who lacked the time, experience or special training necessary to enable an author to prepare an acceptable manuscript, while the great majority of young authors have really no message to tell that is worth recording. Here comes the most difficult and trying task of the successful publisher--_the selection of proper material for publication_. It often happens that a rejected manuscript contains some good work--a promise of something better to come. Then the publisher points out the best features and encourages the incipient author to try again.

Thus books are made, not after a given pattern, like certain fabrics, but each is a creation in itself. The responsibility of the publisher, for the character of the creation, is by no means unimportant. He acts as arbiter of the standard of excellence that must be attained by an author before he is introduced to the public. The publishers' criterion is simply a question of cash. "Will the public buy the book and pay for it?" Nor can any other standard be adopted with safety. The whole question of supply must always depend upon public demand.

But the publisher is not infallible. He often makes mistakes. Between him and the readers is the dealer. The retail bookseller stands closest to the reading public. He acquaints himself with the essential character of the new book, points out to his customer enough of interest to cause him to glance through it, and finally sells it to him; for the intelligent bookseller knows the taste and reading habits of his customers. He has his leading customers in mind from the time he orders a new book till he has shown it and sold it to them. If they are pleased with it, and recommend it to their friends, who call at the store for it, the bookseller re-orders it, and, if he is so fortunate as not to be restrained by unfair local competition, he advertises the book and pushes its sale with energy, so long as interest in it can be kept alive.

Thus the retail booksellers in every city and hamlet throughout the country, standing close to the reading public, knowing what their customers will buy, are the real monitors of the publishers.

When the publisher considers the advisability of bringing out a new book, he cannot undertake to look beyond a few hundred booksellers. It is through them, and only through them, that he has learned to gauge the taste of the reading public. The paramount question for him to decide is, "How many copies of this particular book can I sell to dealer A, dealer B and dealer C; how many copies of this book can I hope with certainty to sell to all of my customers in the trade?" The publisher well knows that the dealer is governed by the same criterion as himself: "Will it pay; will this book be a ready seller, or will it cost me all of the profit I make on it to sell it?"

Thus the product of the author is subject to the immutable laws of supply and demand from the time he submits his first immature manuscript until he makes two, three, four or more trials, and finally has a manuscript accepted. But even then the publishers prepares only a small edition for a new author, and the dealers are very conservative in ordering a new book--especially by an unknown author. The conscientious bookseller awaits the verdict of certain patrons, knowing that, if the book is commended by one whose judgment is respected by local readers, he can safely re-order a goodly number.

Thus the author is dependent upon the publisher for the standard of excellence he must attain in order to achieve success; the publisher is dependent upon the dealer, not only in forming his judgment of the character of books that will sell, but also for the number that he may safely print; while the dealer is dependent upon his best and most critical patrons. Hence the relation of author, publisher and dealer is so close--indeed they are so mutually interdependent--that one factor could not be removed without vitally crippling the other.

A distinguished librarian, who has been a pioneer of progress in the library movement, has recently suggested the propriety of abolishing book stores (_see Publishers' Weekly_, May 11, '01, p. 1149) and allowing public librarians to receive orders and forward them to the publishers. If the distinguished gentleman did not have in view visions of personal gain for public librarians, he should have carried his philanthropic suggestion farther, and proposed to abolish both booksellers and librarians, and to allow the public to procure their books directly from the publishers, thus saving that moiety of gain that would be made by either in return for the service rendered. It cannot be supposed that so able and conscientious an administrative officer ever contemplated maintaining an extra corps of assistants, at an extra expense to the municipality or to those liberal benefactors who have endowed public libraries, in order that opulent citizens may still further indulge their tastes by purchasing larger private libraries, without paying the small commission or profit that is usually allowed to retail booksellers. On the other hand, if this proposal was made for the purpose of allowing libraries maintained by taxing the municipality, to engage in gainful occupation, this is carrying the socialistic idea farther than even our populistic friends have ever yet proposed.

However, inasmuch as this question has been raised, we are bound to treat it from an economic point of view. The question is, "Shall the bookseller be abolished and his office merged into that of the librarian, and can the librarian perform the offices of the bookseller?"

No one has ever questioned the value of the public library from the burning of the Alexandrian Library to the present day. The value of a library, as a _librarium_, or storehouse for the permanent preservation of books, has always been manifest.

Again, the public library gives a larger opportunity and a wider range than is possible in the private collection; and scholars, historians and students of all classes are daily made grateful to the trained, professional librarian, who has so classified the contents of the library as to make the whole available at a moment's notice.

Still another inestimable feature of the public library is that it maintains a public reading room for children as well as adults.

Finally, the library furnishes reading at home to those who are not yet in a position to become owners of books. The benefit derived from reading of this character is often of questionable value. The _habitué_ of the circulating library makes his selections from misleading or sensational titles. Little care and less intelligence is exercised in choosing either title or author. As a result librarians are constantly complaining that only the trashiest and most worthless books are read.

The circulating department of the public library is now supplemented by others that are conducted for cash profit. These have sprung up in many cities. And now we have the "Book-Lovers' Library," a corporation with capital stock, engaging in business for profit. It has the advantage of certain trust features. It proposes to organize branches in all of the principal cities and towns in the country. For five dollars a year it proposes to supply fifty dollars' worth of reading to each subscriber. An automobile is employed, with an attendant to deliver the books to subscribers each week and take up those that have been read. Having paid five, ten or more dollars, at the beginning of the year, the subscriber can read from morning till night, while the new books come and go with the lightning speed of the automobile.

As in many other circulating libraries, new copyrighted fiction is the chief staple supplied by the "Book-Lovers' Library"--the sweetest pabulum automatically administered.

After a season of such dissipation call in a neurologist to diagnose your patient, and he will advise you that by continuing the treatment the mind will be reduced to a sieve, if not ultimately to absolute imbecility. Having abandoned the more serious literature that calls into use all the faculties of the mind, the reader of nothing but fiction converts what would otherwise be a healthful recreation into dissipation, that is enervating and permanently debilitating to all the faculties of the mind, when carried to an extreme. Had the reader been denied the use of this automatic machine, and been compelled, as formerly, to browse through the book store in search of something to read, more serious books would have been selected--history, travel, descriptive writing or popular science, with an occasional novel by way of recreation.

But to continue the argument, suppose we abolish the bookseller, as has been proposed. This would not be a difficult matter. Most of them would gladly be "abolished" if they could sell out their stock for anything near what it cost them. Their profits have been so reduced by unfair competition that they are not sufficient to pay the cost of doing business. They have been compelled to carry side lines, as stationery, newspapers, periodicals, sporting goods, _bric-a-brac_, wall paper, etc., in order to make a living. By this means they have learned that other lines of merchandise yield a better profit than books. As a result most of them have greatly reduced their book stock, or entirely abandoned the sale of books, and put in more profitable lines of merchandise.

The causes that have led up to this result are manifold: 1st. They were strenuously urged, and they finally consented to allow discounts:

(_a_) To ministers of the gospel, since they are public benefactors.

(_b_) To school teachers, since they are public educators and benefactors.

(_c_) To public libraries, since they are for the most part eleemosynary institutions, and hence entitled to charity.

Indeed, when I recount the charitable benefactions that have been exacted and received at the hands of the retail bookseller, he seems to me to have been the most saintly character that has lived in my day and generation. And right here it is of interest to note that these ministers, these teachers, these physicians, these public librarians were actually receiving out of the hands of the public stated salaries that exceeded by far the annual net profit of the average bookseller.

2d. Having secured from the local dealer a discount equal to the best part of his profit, many librarians have gone behind him and appealed directly to the publishers for a larger discount. This has been granted in most cases, so that most librarians have recently been receiving as large a discount as local dealers.

3d. Commission agents have purchased complete editions of popular-selling books from the publishers, and re-sold them at a slight advance:

(_a_) To dry-goods stores, where they have been put on "bargain counters" and sold at less than cost, to attract customers to their stores.

(_b_) To publishers of local newspapers, who give the books away as premiums or sell them at cost prices, to increase the local circulation of their papers.

(_c_) To mail-order agencies, who advertise the books at less than they are usually sold for by dealers.

4th. Many publishers have been advertising and mailing their books directly to retail customers at reduced prices, or at the same price they recommended local dealers to ask for them, and they have prepaid the postage, thus _competing directly with their distributing agents, the booksellers, in their own field_.

5th. Finally, some local librarians, who a few years ago were appealing to local booksellers for a discount, having been granted the discount, have recently been supplying books "at cost prices" to other patrons of the local booksellers. Thus our friends, the librarians, having inverted the good old practice of returning good for evil, having helped to rob the local bookseller of his livelihood, now propose to abolish his office.

To carry the proposition to its conclusions, suppose we abolish the bookseller. Can the librarian take his place and send the orders in to the publishers? If so, if this is all there is to the bookselling business, why should the publisher pay a commission to the librarian for doing what the people could as readily do for themselves? But a general business cannot be carried on in this way. Publishers have tried it for years, yet only comparatively few people are willing to order books that they have not had an opportunity to examine, and of this class librarians are the most conservative. They, too, want to know what they are buying before they place their orders. Hence, this postulate: If the librarian is to succeed the bookseller, he must become a merchant; he must order stocks of books and take the speculative chance of selling them. But the librarian has had no experience or training in merchandising. Can he afford to hazard his own capital in an untried field; can he induce his friends to supply him with capital to invest in a business of which he confessedly has no knowledge? It would manifestly be a perversion of the funds of the institution in charge of the librarian, to invest them in a gainful occupation.

From what I have said, it must be apparent that booksellers, as well as librarians, have a province of their own, and perform a service that cannot be delegated to another. And hence it is desirable that we live and dwell together in peace and amity.

But in these days of combinations, reorganizations and revolutions in the conduct of business, the publishers have looked farther, in their quest for more economical purveying agents. For the past ten years they have been trying to induce the dry-goods merchants to carry books. But, after all this time, not more than half a dozen department stores carry fairly representative stocks of books. They confine themselves, for the most part, to new copyrighted fiction, and of this they handle only that which is widely advertised.

Of late, department stores and dry-goods stores have met severe competition in clothing stores, that make no pretext of carrying a book stock. They simply buy an edition of a popular-selling book and advertise it for less money than it actually cost. They do this simply as an advertising dodge, to attract customers to their stores. Then, too, the mail-order agencies have cut the price of the most popular books so low that it is no longer profitable to handle them. The result of this has been that many of the most promising new novels have been killed before they were fairly put on the market; for _as soon as they ceased to be profitable no one could afford to re-order them_.

The effect of this recent drift of the trade has been to stimulate the frothy side of literature to an extreme degree. The more serious literature is being neglected. The latest novel is the fad. Its average life is reduced to little more than one year, though the copyright lasts for twenty-eight years, and with a renewal it may be extended to forty-two years.

This shortening of the life of books has had a baneful effect:

(_a_) Baneful to the bookseller, since it frequently leaves him with a dead stock of books on hand that cannot be turned without loss.

(_b_) Baneful to the publisher, since the book stops selling and the plates become valueless before he has had time fairly to recoup himself for the expense of bringing it out, advertising it, and putting it on the market.

(_c_) Baneful to the author, since by shortening the life of his books the value of his property in them is reduced.

But perhaps the most baneful effect of this craze for ephemeral literature is upon the people themselves. As the standard or degree of civilization for a given age is marked by the character of the literature the people produce and read, we cannot hope for a golden age in American letters, unless the present system is reversed. Work of real merit is never done by accident, nor is it the product of mediocre talents. If we are to develop a national literature that shall fitly characterize the sterling qualities of the American people in this, the full strength of the early manhood of the nation; at the time when the nation has taken its place in the vanguard of civilization; at the time when the consumptive power of the nation is equal to one-third of that of the entire civilized world; at the time when men of talents and genius are annually earning and expending, for their comfort and pleasure, more munificent sums than were ever lavished on the most opulent princes; I say, if we are to produce a literature that shall fitly characterize this age of our nation, we must hold forth such rewards for the pursuits of literature as will attract men of genius, men of the most lustrous talents, men who are the peers of their co-workers in other walks of life. But this will not be possible so long as the present strife to furnish cheap literature to the people continues.

It should be observed that the bookseller has not suffered alone in this cheapening process. The publisher has suffered. Within the past few months two names that for half a century were household words, synonyms of all that is excellent in the publishing world, have met with disaster, and others were approaching a crisis.

Fortunately one firm stood out so prominently, as a bulwark of financial strength and security, that its president, Mr. Charles Scribner, of Charles Scribner's Sons, could afford to take the initiative in calling for reform. He invited the co-operation of other publishers, and a year ago this month they met in New York and organized the American Publishers' Association. Their organization now includes practically all of the general publishers who contribute anything of real value to current literature.

The publishers canvassed thoroughly the causes that had led to the decline of the trade, and they appointed a committee to draft reform measures.

In reviewing the decline of the trade, two facts stood out so prominently that it was impossible to disassociate them as cause and effect. The three thousand booksellers, upon whom, as purveying agents, the publishers had depended a generation ago, had shrunk in number until only about five hundred could be counted who were worthy to be called booksellers. The other fact, which doubtless made quite as deep an impression upon the minds of the publishers, was that the long line of books, on each of their published catalogs, was practically dead. Those books of high standard character, by eminent authors, books that for years had had a good annual sale, no longer moved. These standard books have been a large source of revenue to publishers and their authors for many years. But now so few of them are sold that it hardly pays the publishers to send their travellers over the road.

Few dry-goods merchants, druggists, newsdealers and stationers, that have recently been induced to carry a small number of books, feel sufficiently well acquainted with salable literature to warrant their carrying anything more than the most popular-selling new copyrighted novels and cheap reprints of non-copyrighted books that sell for twenty-five cents or less. As stated above, there are a few large department stores that carry a more general stock, but they are so few that the support received from them is not sufficient to compensate, in any measure, the loss sustained through the sacrifice of the regular booksellers. Moreover, the regular booksellers that still remain in the business have not been buying many standard books of late. Seeing their profit in fiction sacrificed by unfair competition, many of them have ordered only enough of the new copyrighted novels to keep alive their accumulated stocks of standard books, until they can sell them out or reduce them to a point where they can afford to abandon the book business.

From the character of the reform measures adopted by the American Publishers' Association, which went into effect on the first of May, it is evident that the publishers have determined to restore the old-time bookseller. This can be done only by the publishers enforcing the maintenance of retail prices, the same as is done by the proprietors of the Earl & Wilson collar, the Waterman fountain pen, the Eastman kodak, and many other special lines of which the retail price is listed.

When dry-goods stores and clothing stores bought these special lines and retailed them at or below the cost price, in _contrast to the list price_ asked in the special furnishing stores, in order to attract customers to their stores because of their wonderful "bargain counters," the manufacturers realized that the dry-goods stores were simply using up these wares to advertise their other business. They cut off the supply of their goods to these price-cutting dry-goods stores, and refused to supply any more goods, except under a substantial undertaking on the part of the dry-goods stores to maintain the full list price.

This, in a word, is the substance of the publishers' plan. They have agreed to cut off absolutely the supply of all of their books, net, copyrighted and otherwise, to any dealer who cuts the retail price of a book published under the net-price system.

On the other hand, the nearly eight hundred members of the American Booksellers' Association have entered into a mutual agreement to push with energy the sale of the books of all publishers who co-operate with them for the maintenance of retail prices, and not to buy, nor put in stock, nor offer for sale, the books of any publisher who fails to co-operate with them. This is substantially the same system that was adopted in Germany in 1887, in France a few years later, and in England in 1900.

The effect of this system in Germany has been to lift up the trade from a condition even more deplorable, if possible, than that into which it has fallen in this country, and to make it a prosperous and profitable business. It has proved beneficent and satisfactory, not only to dealers and publishers, but also to authors and to the reading public, for every city, town and village in Germany now sustains a book shop that carries a fairly representative stock of books, so that the people are able to examine promptly every book as soon as it comes from the press, and the authors are sure of having their books promptly submitted to the examination of every possible purchaser.

The results in France and England are equally encouraging, and it is believed that as soon as the American system is fully understood, and as soon as enough books are included under the net-price system, so that a bookseller can once more make a living on the sale of books, many of the old-time booksellers will again put in a stock of books and help to re-establish the book trade in America.

Having tried to define the present relation of publishers and booksellers, I beg leave to say frankly that I know of no reason why publishers and booksellers should maintain any different relations with librarians than they maintain with any other retail customers.

For example, let us take the new "Book-Lovers' Library," so called. Their plan is to sell memberships, and to deliver to each member one book a week for five dollars a year, or three books a week for ten dollars a year. They take up the books at the end of each week and supply new ones.