This post originally appeared on the Frankfurt Book Fair blog. I highly recommend visiting the official blog for interesting posts from Richard Nash, Alex Hippisley-Cox, and Arun Wolf
One of the most interesting figures Kaidi Urmet of the Estonian Publishers’ Association dropped in her speech about the Estonian Book Market was about the nearly inverted correlation between titles published in Estonia and overall sales. In 1991—just two years after the fall of the BerlinWall—only 1554 titles were published in Estonia. But because of the demand of readers, over 23,295,000 units were sold. The snapshot of 2007 paints a much different picture: 3410 titles were published (more than double the number from 1991), resulting in 8,853,000 copies (approx. 40% of the total in 1991).
Urmet pointed to the steady increase in book prices as the reason for this decline in sales. “In 1991 we were just starting to implement the capitalist model,” she said. “Books were much cheaper then—people could afford them.”
Although the past year has been rough on the Estonian book market (where hasn’t it been rough?), one of the bright spots has been the increased interest in memoirs and biographies. Rene Tendermann of Pegasus—which specializes in literary fiction and young adult titles—echoed this trend, pointing out that on the whole, nonfiction has done much better than fiction since the economic collapse. His big worry for the future is library funding though. About 20% of Pegasus’s sales are to libraries, but it looks like library funding will decrease by 40-50% in the next year.
Not all the news is bleak though. Ilvi Liive of the Estonian Literature Information Centre (ELIC) has had great success in recent years getting Estonian literature translated and published around the world. So far this year, 30 Estonian books have been translated into 15 different languages—including Albanian, German, Russian, and even English. This is a much different situation than what things were like in 2001 when the ELIC first came into existence and started developing a network of publishing contacts around the world.
One of the books she’s most excited about that’s launching at the fair is the French translation of the third volume of A.H.Tammsaare’s Truth and Justice, a five-volume Estonian family saga set in the 19th and early 20th centuries.
The latest issue of the Estonian Literary Magazine (produced by ELIC) is also releasing at the Fair and contains a range of articles on Estonian literature and reviews of a number of new titles. And for publishers interested in award-winning titles, there’s even a special feature on the Estonian Literary Awards of 2008.
“Rambling Jack—what’s that?”
“A novel. Novella, I guess.”
“Yeah, it looks short. What is it, a hundred pages?”
“Sorta. It’s a duel language book, so really, only about… 50 pages total.”
“And this—what. . .
Many authors are compared to Roberto Bolaño. However, very few authors have the privilege of having a Roberto Bolaño quote on the cover of their work; and at that, one which states, “Good readers will find something that can be. . .
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When a novel states a fact that ties into another fact and another and another, as the chain goes on. . .
César Aira dishes up an imaginative parable on how identity shapes our sense of belonging with Dinner, his latest release in English. Aira’s narrator (who, appropriately, remains nameless) is a self-pitying, bitter man—in his late fifties, living again with. . .
Originally published in French in 2007, We’re Not Here to Disappear (On n’est pas là pour disparaître) won the Prix Wepler-Fondation La Poste and the Prix Pierre Simon Ethique et Réflexion. The work has been recently translated by Béatrice Mousli. . .
Even though the latest from Jean Echenoz is only a thin volume containing seven of what he calls “little literary objects,” it is packed with surprises. In these pieces, things happen below the surface, sometimes both literally and figuratively. As. . .
Who is this woman? This is the question that opens Xiao Bai’s French Concession, a novel of colonial-era Shanghai’s spies and revolutionaries, police and smugglers, who scoot between doorways, walk nonchalantly down avenues, smoke cigars in police bureaus, and lounge. . .
For the past 140 years, Anna Karenina has been loved by millions of readers all over the world. It’s easy to see why: the novel’s two main plots revolve around characters who are just trying to find happiness through love.. . .
Linn Ullmann’s The Cold Song, her fifth novel, is built much like the house about which its story orbits: Mailund, a stately white mansion set in the Norwegian countryside a few hours drive from Oslo. The house, nestled into the. . .
Karel Schoeman’s Afrikaans novel, This Life, translated by Else Silke, falls into a genre maybe only noticed by the type of reader who tends toward Wittgenstein-type family resemblances. The essential resemblance is an elderly narrator, usually alone—or with one other. . .