Indian writing gets a boost

The idea of booksellers instituting an award for books is usually associated with marketing tactics. But there are some who do so out of a genuine love for books. VIJAY NAMBISAN profiles the Crossword Award.

WHEN a publishing company or a bookstore institutes a prize for fiction, it is a sign of healthy marketing instincts and healthy public relations. After all, if the award is featured in the media, the booksellers will profit.

But why should an Indian award (for English novels) that is only one year old be increased from Rs. 2 to 3 lakhs, and be additionally established for translations into English? It argues something besides marketing savvy or smooth PR. A translation, at Rs. 100 to 200 a copy would need to sell some 5,000 copies for the retailer to break even - and such sales are rare in any market.

As Urvashi Butalia wrote in Hindustan Times (November 7)

Both the really prestigious literary prizes, the Sahitya Akademi awards and the Jnanpith, are not accompanied by the kind of publicity and promotion that is needed to make the selected books known. The events... are usually somewhat serious (even tedious) and of course do not have the usual flow of liquor, an essential ingredient for getting the press to cover an event.

I had heard of Crossword before but never visited the shop. I didn't know who was behind them; but when a letter came, signed "R. Sriram", inviting Kavery to the ceremony (her novel Mango- coloured Fish was on this year's shortlist), I visualised some paunchy world-weary seen-everything marketing man with a hidden agenda. It's always a temptation to visit Bombay though, for however brief a time; so we phoned Sriram, invited myself onto the roster for the "two days' hospitality" he was offering, and went to Bombay.

Sriram and Anita, who run Crossword, are marketing executives, but there the resemblance ends. They are both in their early 30s, young to be running such a chain - Crossword has opened seven branches in seven years. Sriram is "dropout" from Loyola, Anita a graduate in Eng. Lit. from Ethiraj College, both in Madras, where they helped set up the bookstore Landmark, which has amply justified its name. Starved for space (spiritually), they moved to Hyderabad and helped found Walden, which has also become a landmark. Then they sold their idea of an - er - interactive bookstore to India Book House (IBH), who said they happened to have some space lying unused near fashionable (and expensive) Kemps Corner in Bombay...

Most impressive. They must be persuasive, to sell an idea to the hard-headed IBH people; and good, to have made it work (the turnover is over Rs. 16 crores). What at once strikes you about Crossword is that it's user-friendly. Plenty of space, smiling assistants, clean lighting, good colours, and a coffee-shop. Why didn't anyone do that before? And there are innovative ideas, which explain why Crossword has been featured in Advertising Age International as one of 1994's Marketing Superstars, and described by Bookseller as being "on the cutting edge of retailing".

About the awards, unfortunately there was little excitement. Of the ten shortlisted for the Translation prize (Rs. 3 lakhs to be divided between author and translator, which has given rise to some questions; but is there an equitable way?) Only half had come to Bombay. Of the five on the English fiction list, four are expatriates, though Vikram Seth was in Calcutta at an ailing uncle's bedside. Anyway with Seth on the list, there were only a few secret hopes that the judges would be adventurous. (For the shortlists see Literary Review, November 7).

It was a pity so few of the nominees were present. In 1998, they had all five attended, and Allan Sealy won for "The Everest Hotel." This year, too, Satti Khanna, translator of Vinod Shukla's "The Servant's Shirt (Naukar ki Kameez)" had flown in from the U.S. where he teaches. But it is unrealistic to expect a bookstore to pay everyone's fares. They have to pay the judges; and the whole business must have set them back Rs. 15 lakh.

The judges were Harish Trivedi of Delhi University, Gujarat-Tamil writer and translator Dilip Kumar, and critic, translator and cricket-writer Sujit Mukherjee in the Translation category; and author Vikram Chandra, Malashri Lal of Delhi University and Alok Rai of IIT, Delhi for English fiction. Only Mukherjee was absent, unwell.

The ceremony, on the evening of December 10 at the British Council Library, was very low-key. There were no glitterati, but a representation of Bombay's literati. In charge was the BC's Robert Frost, which suggested that a Prize for poetry be immediately instituted. The announcement of the Awards was preceded by readings from the ten books by local theatre people. Trivedi began - in the style which is familiar to readers of his criticism - by saying that his panel had had a much tougher task than the other. After furious debate with Dilip Kumar over the last two books, they had phoned Mukherjee for his casting vote. He also made the interesting observation that one book had the better original, the other the better translator. Without saying which was which, he designated a runner-up in "The Servant's Shirt." Fortunately both Shukla and Khanna were present to receive handshakes and bouquets.

The winner was Mukundan's Malayalam novel "On the Banks of the Mayyazhi," translated by Gita Krishnankutty. Mukundan had, against doctor's advice, attempted to attend, but was unable to get a flight; Krishnankutty is a private person. Which was a pity, as many who'd read her said.

When Chandra, visibly jet-lagged - he'd flown in only that morning - came on stage, he politely returned Trivedi's serve (readers of Chandra's article in Literary Review, December 5 and 19, will recognise the undercurrents here; and there was much discussion of the article later). He spoke briefly, and duly announced that the Award had gone to Seth;s "An Equal Music." There were audible I told you's from the audience.

Crossword had hinted that they are considering an award for children's fiction, and there are murmurs about non-fiction and unpublished manuscripts. Anita told us, "I can't imagine working in an environment without books all around!" They're obviously willing to put their money where their mouth is.

Urvashi Butalia concluded the article from which I've quoted earlier, "If there are any new takers to institute more awards, now is the time to do it." They may find the market already cornered; but it would be a pleasant change for us writers to see the booksellers competing.

The profit motive is certainly there at Crossword; but I've got the answer to my pre-Bombay question. That gleam in the eyes of those who work there, as they talk about books, is not the high- powered executives gleam. It is - excuse the four-letter word, all ye businessmen - love.

Send this article to Friends by E-Mail

Section  : Features
Previous : Dear Reader
Next     : Where are the penpushers?