Bookbuyer's
Bookend
It is always nice to welcome what is known as a 'sleeper' — a book which, without any particular publicity, makes its way quietly from inauspicious beginnings to become a success purely on merit. Watership Down was almost a case in point, though it did not sleep for very long. Minaret Craven's I Heard the Owl Call My Name is a novel about a young priest's encounter with an Indian community on the coast of British Columbia, and it may prove to be one of the strangest sleepers for years.
Published in Canada by Clark Irwin in 1967, it made little immediate impact; published in London by Haman a year later, it made even less—although it had a few fine reviews and a modest first edition subsequently sold out. In the United States the rights were not even sold. In the meantime sales of the Canadian edition were quietly building up and by the end of last year had reached a remarkable 45,000 copies. Early in 1973 an American publisher became interested, not least because it was rumoured that an American film company had also become interested, When the film, starring Tom Courtenay, was shown on American television shortly before Christmas it was an immediate critical success, and Doubleday's edition shot straight into the New York bestseller lists where it stayed for four months. This in turn attracted the literary attentions of a paperback house who, knowing a good thing (if not a good book) when they saw it, proceeded to pay 60,000 dollars for the softcover rights.
Back in Britain Harrap have just reissued I Heard the Owl Call My Name and are no doubt hoping that some of its American success will be repeated here. If it is, Harrap will not be the only beneficiaries, however. Some time ago they unwittingly leased reprint rights for the book to the Bodley Head who wanted it for their New Adults series and will be publishing it in
September. John Grant, Labour MP, for Islington North,
may not be Parliament's only luckless literateur this year. Bookend readers will recall that Mr Grant's Member of Parliament was published in the week preceding February's election, and, in the interests of fair political play, he had to cancel several TV appearances. Now, with an Autumn election rumoured, two other gentlemen of the benches are in danger of being frustrated. The Honourable Member, an account of what goes on in the House, by Sunderland North's Fred Willey, was scheduled to appear in September. And in October Hamish Hamilton plan to publish Nine Men of Power a series of short biographies by Mr Roy Jenkins.
Bookbuyer has been upbraided for his ungallant reference to Andre Deutsche's champagne capers, (July 27) and from a most unexpected quarter. Rallying furiously to his defence (without, however, disputing the veracity of the story) comes Miss Kitty Sansome, Andre D's bouncing publicity manager. She insists that he is very nice, and has just given her a rise and a second secretary. Bookbuyer agrees — Mr Deutsch is also an exceptional publisher — but has to confess that this is the first time Bookend has perceived such overtly cordial sympathy between AD and his numerous post-war PR ladies. Like the man biting the dog, that's news.
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