The Domain of the Bestsellers

The lists of best selling fiction books in Brazil clearly show that the Brazilian publishing industry, in the segment tellingly called trade books (general interest books sold in retail outlets), is completely tied to North America. Especially in fiction, a book that has not been on the New York Times best seller list has little chance of interesting our publishing houses. This disinterest — a phenomenon of a purely commercial nature and fruit of the global economy — condemns Brazilian literature to isolation. How can a literature that is not published develop and evolve?

In the weekly ranking of fiction published in the Saturday supplement of this paper on Aug. 28th, of the eight out of the 10 authors with the most novels bought in book stores, five are Americans (Rick Riordan and Nicholas Sparks with two titles each, P.C. Cast, Dan Brown and Lauren Kate). The other three are the Chilean Isabel Allende, the Canadian William P. Young (not coincidentally, both are based in the United States) and last but not least, a Brazilian — the rookie Eduardo Spohr, author of A Batalha do Apocalipse: da Queda dos Anjos ao Crepúsculo do Mundo [translation: The Battle of the Apocalypse: Fallen Angels in the Twilight World]. The list in the weekly magazine Veja is similar, with the substitution of Paulo Coelho for Lauren Kate. It is a question of criteria as Coelho’s book, The Aleph, is a non-fiction title. But still, it makes no difference…

In order to publish a New York Times best seller, a Brazilian publisher needs to invest heavily. The publishing rights to these works are generally auctioned off and bids frequently surpass $100,000. Additionally, there is the cost of translation and of the first printing of, at a minimum, the 15,000 or 20,000 copies needed to break even. Add to this the money spent on publicity and media. When it works it is a thing of beauty! But the experience of accumulated distrust because of advances that were never recuperated dramatically shows that the supreme oracle of our publishing houses — the New York Times and Amazon best seller lists — far from guarantees sales success in Brazil.

The book business has never been, in any time or place, a champion of profits. But it has always found a way to accomplish its function as a civilizing force. However, since half a dozen big multinational corporations came to dominance in the last 30 years, the global communication business began absorbing into its conglomerates the most important publishers of Europe and North America. The literary content began to be pushed down, following the foolish principle that in order to increase the number of readers it was necessary to publish books “within reach” of the masses.

Well, that is the world we live in and no one is saying that literature should be only for elites; the making of an exclusive product for a select audience. Increasingly, here and around the world, this is a task that has fallen on the shoulders of small independent publishers, the publishing houses of universities, and those maintained by public or private non-profit institutions.

But when we are faced with the dominant and almost exclusive presence of foreign authors in the lists of best-selling novels in this country, we are led to one of two conclusions: either our big publishing businesses are neglecting national authors or these authors are disappearing or producing poor-quality work. We can discard the second hypothesis without fear of error. Any editor knows well the enormous quantity, and quality, that is available of originals offered by a myriad of unedited authors, as well as an equally surprising number of excellent writers who have found doors closed to their new books only because they have not been able to produce a best seller.

There are publishers and booksellers who argue, almost apologetically, “Our readers don’t really like Brazilian stories.” It is not very clear, but it seems that this argument means that the reader in Brazil is an elite intellectual that has tastes too refined for the “national product.” Hence the natural tendency to offer to the distinguished public the “imported product.” Very chic. But could someone please explain how the fiction that frequents the New York Times best seller list is generally speaking of the quality that would please someone of “refined taste”? It is better to admit then that what matters is the money.

The reality is that Brazilian literature sells poorly because the big publishers, which dictate the direction of the market, are not ready, except for the usual honorable exceptions — and even there, slowly! — to put money into it. No one seems to pay attention to the fact that genuine Brazilian content sells, and sells well, in the world when we talk about television shows, as our television networks have invested heavily over the past 50 years in these shows and have created an international standard of excellence.

In the book world there are also big investments, in extremely expensive foreign titles — mostly junk — that arrive with commercial credentials based only on their high sales index outside of Brazil. Then if the secret is money, why not use the same generosity to invest in the creation of Brazilian literature? And support the production of national literature does not only mean eventually publishing a run of two thousand copies and then abandoning it to its own luck.

Brazilian publishers need to look towards the future and think in the social and cultural responsibilities that their businesses imply.