An Irish Publisher – and a Strange Bird

When I was a teenager, I spent a lot of my time (probably too much) in secondhand bookshops – and a lot of my somewhat limited resources (again, too much) on the books inside. Croydon Bookshop* was a particular favourite haunt. It is now a kebab shop or similar. How’s that for a change of use? We had no television at home – but always plenty of books. And I added to the stocks.

One day, it occurred to me that I might be able to turn my growing interest in books into something from which I could actually make a living – namely, publishing them. And so the present difficulties began. The next time I went into Croydon Bookshop, I asked if they had any books on publishing. After a pause, the reply came: “No, I don’t think we do.” A pity – and something of a surprise. The place was chockful of books, and yet there was no clue in any of the publications as to how they had all come into being. Remember, this was at a time when the internet was not even a glint in the eye of Mr Berners-Lee, and YouTube didn’t exist. There was no one to guide me.

So I set about finding what I could, from whatever sources I could. Over the years, I’ve amassed a small collection of books on the topic. If the bookseller had recommended them to me all those years ago, it might have saved us all from a great deal of trouble. So, for any young (or old) person who is planning to venture forth into the wild, uncharted seas of book publishing, I offer these short reviews of three books by way of friendly advice. Seek them out for yourself. Entertaining reads they certainly are.

An Irish Publisher and His World – by John M Feehan

A slim volume, but large in influence. In 1969, Captain Feehan set down in print all that he had learned about the world of books as director of Mercier Press – which recently marked the eightieth anniversary of its foundation, and remains the oldest independent book publisher in Ireland.

The cover design, by John Skelton, is striking – of its time, modern, yet timeless. One is reminded of the “Books and Bookmen” column in Private Eye – a column which no longer exists, alas – another sign of the times.

Opening it at random, I read a pithy paragraph on why, although Irish publishers would prefer to print their books exclusively in Ireland, to do so would be commercially ruinous. This situation remains the same today.

John Feehan (uncle of current director of the press Mary, to whom the book is dedicated, along with the other two directors of the firm) was quite possibly a genius. After the Emergency (the Second World War), during which he served in the Irish Army, he travelled to Frankfurt, location of the world’s largest book fair, then and now. The fair was held in Nissen huts. Feehan learnt German and travelled to Frankfurt, with the express purpose of selling rights in his books to that country’s publishers – and did so, with books on the Aran Islands and other parts of the country.

This book is recommended reading for anyone interested in the lives of the books. It is particularly notable for the fact that the perspective is that of a military man in a (fairly recently) independent country beside a larger, much more powerful one.

Penguin Special: The Life and Times of Allen Lane – by Jeremy Lewis

Allen Lane essentially invented the modern publishing industry – but his story is hedged round with fanciful notions. The often-repeated claim that he dreamt up the idea of the paperback while looking for a book at a train station in the West Country may or may not be true. But he certainly popularised a new form: the inexpensive paperback book. And the quality of the publications speak for themselves. The acid test: they are highly collectable today.

Apparently the idea for the Penguin came from an unknown secretary at the firm. “What shall we call it?” “How about . . . Penguin?” Rather like Micky Mouse, the mascot was milked for all it was worth. The cuddlier the mascot, the more ruthless the company.

There were great discussions within the company as to how they should make Lane’s retirement. In the end, tired of all the back and forth, he suggested: “Invite everyone along, and provide plenty of food and drink.” Still a fine approach for a good party, I would say.

The cover image is well chosen – bowler hat, copy of The Times and all.

Incidentally, Allen Lane died exactly a year (to the day) before the present writer was born. And so ended a chapter in intellectual history. And another thing: Lane was a regular visitor to the south-west of Ireland, where he was entertained by . . . none other than John Feehan.

The corporatisation of publishing has created a homogenisation of product over the years – of which Penguin has arguably been as much a part as anybody. But truth be told, a Penguin book is still invariably a joy to read, then as now.

Strange Bird: The Albatross Press and the Third Reich – by Michele K Troy

It is often said that Allen Lane invented the serious paperback. The fact is that he lifted the idea – hook, line and sinker – from a German rival, namely Albatross, all the way down to the colours for Crime (green), Biography (blue) and Fiction (orange). Even the Penguin logo is something of a copy of the striking bird that features on the cover of this book.

Strange Bird traces the strange history of this . . . well, strange bird – a tale which takes the reader from Nazi Germany to wartime Britain and all points in between. On the dustjacket, Jonathan Rose writes that the book “reads like a highbrow thriller, where editors are double agents and al the great modern authors put in cameo appearances. That, along with Michel Troy’s engaging and personal style of writing, makes this book a page-turner”.

We are so much awash with paper now that it takes a leap of imagination to return in our mind’s eye to a time when it was rationed. As a publisher, if you weren’t given a ration (and books were not exactly considered to be essential items in wartime), you couldn’t print anything. This world is vividly recollected in this substantial work.

Seán O’Keeffe is Publisher at Third Age Books

*In Carshalton, not Croydon. The shop closed in 2016 after forty-five years in business, following the retirement of its owner. A somewhat familiar story.