The German Book Prize - Success story with side effects

The German Book Prize (Deutsche Buchpreis) has proved itself to be a successful marketing instrument. But in its shadow, a large number of new publications are hidden from the view of readers and media alike.
It was only a decade ago that the mechanisms by which a sophisticated work of literature became a best-seller were quite clear: if TV's literature program "Das Literarische Quartett“ ("literary quartet") had a novel on its list, the publisher could start a new print – irrespective of whether the book was praised or torn apart, on the following day it sold. Today there's still Elke Heidenreich, in whose favour one must say that she deliberately picks smaller publishers and holds their books up to the camera with the imperative "Read!" But aside from that? Who gives the book buyers direction? Who has influence, and jurisdiction over interpretation? Who decides which literary works are to be bought? It isn't the feature pages, at least not any more.
According to the German Publishers' and Booksellers' Association, in 2007 there were 14,056 new publications in the field of fiction in Germany. The complaint that this production of new titles is excessive can be heard time and again, but changes nothing: everyone continues hoping to hit the jackpot. But the complaint is perhaps nothing more than a reflex of cultural pessimism. The field in general and booksellers in particular found themselves in a serious crisis in 2002 and 2003. As a result, the Association came up with an idea: analogous to England, the U.S.A and France, Germany was in future to have a prize honouring the best German-language book of the year, no less. The German Book Prize was invented and an academy installed, which was to name an annually-changing judging panel.
Between famous and forgotten
Amongst the Academy's members are the President of the Goethe Institute, the Chairman of the Publishers' and Booksellers' Association and the Director of the Frankfurt Book Fair. And then, in the year 2005, year one of the German Book Prize, something happened that nobody foresaw happening in this form: the German Book Prize turned into a huge success. There shall be no mention here of the hubris that underlies the claim made by this prize: bringing to light THE best novel of the year – who would seriously presume to do that? The power that has accrued to this prize within three years has surprisingly become so great that even a not-insignificant number of its supporters are probably shocked. The original idea of drawing attention has come off completely, but at what cost? In August, the jury makes its longlist known, around 20 titles. A month later the shortlist appears, six titles. Whoever doesn't make it onto the longlist is not going to be here. Whoever is on the longlist but doesn't make it onto the bestseller list before the shortlist appears, isn't going to make it either. Which leaves around 14,000 titles with no more part to play. This may be putting things a little bluntly, but it's hardly an exaggeration.
More than a few highly-placed publishers' representatives would like nothing more than to see the prize done away with. The risk of not winning it is considerably greater than the chance of landing a success with its help. But that is not the only thing that can put a publisher under pressure: according to the rules, every publisher can submit two works of fiction. What that means for the bigger publishers is not hard to imagine - how do you plausibly explain to an author that his or her book has not been submitted, but that of a fellow author has?
And amongst the authors there is not complete agreement about the German Book Prize either. Daniel Kehlmann, whose novel "Die Vermessung der Welt" was nominated for the shortlist in the first year of the prize (it was won by the Austrian Arno Geiger and Kehlmann's book became a million seller anyway), made an observation worth thinking about. He wrote: "The existence of an author is often precarious from an economic point of view; of course one can force writers to undergo humiliating situations in the hope of the best-seller that would change their lives - but does that mean that one should do so? Books compete with one another: their authors don't.“ Authors who carry weight, such as Monika Maron and Michael Lentz, have already called for the abolition of the competition.
The counter-argument, put forward by, for example, the German Publishers' and Booksellers' Association, the initiator of the prize, can't simply be dismissed. The argument runs: the prize does not draw attention away from novels that were not nominated, but rather draws attention to the book as a medium, attention that had previously been lacking in a broad segment of the public. This is not redirecting the limelight, but a whole new stage. One can and may see things in this light, but it certainly can't be proven empirically except with figures, and the figures speak for themselves: the book trade at least has put its crisis behind it. One can weigh up the pros and cons of the German Book Prize however one likes, but one must always remain conscious of what the prize is: a marketing instrument thought up by the book trade. This is legitimate, but it is something one has to know.
Who gets the role of the kingmaker in a system like this, oriented towards labelling and buyer-friendly presentability, is obvious – whoever is on the judging panel of the German Book Prize decides on the book of the autumn. The power has shifted, from the subjectively-coloured television stage of the "Literarisches Quartett" to the no less subjectively-coloured composition of a panel of supposed and actual experts, randomly thrown together anew every year. And whoever doesn't belong badmouths their colleagues' choices: "Why isn't A on the list?" Or: "What is B doing there?" It's the same every year and it's part of the prize. Work on the panel is, for those who take it seriously, hard work.
The feature pages join in playing the Book Prize game. Only in October, when the prize has been awarded and the book fair is over, does it slowly start becoming more peaceful. And one can start giving some thought to those books that were buried under the avalanche of attention triggered by the prize. Until it's time for the next one – the Leipzig Book Fair Prize.
Literary critic and journalist
Translation: Michael Knight
Copyright: Goethe-Institut e.V., Online-Redaktion
Any questions about this article? Please write to us!
online-redaktion@goethe.de
October 2008










