9 JUNE 1973, Page 14

Bookend

Bookbuyer

Phase one of the literary prize season is upon us again, and with a proper sense of priority It comes to children's books first. Bookbuyer is not agin the idea of such awards which, in theory at least, are a useful way of leading public horses to literary waters, and paying authors money their publishers can't, or won't. In practice, they often fail on both counts. At Bookbuyer's last estimate, there were more than 50 major awards, sponsored by every conceivable vested interest and increasing annually as one publicity-conscious party after another conspires to get in on the act. The result is that with two honourable exceptions literary prizes have lost their currency, because no-one — least of all within the book trade — can remember what prize is for which type of book and whether it is worth winning anyway. Not surprisingly, the public have tended to react with a cheerful and total indifference.

When it comes to presenting prizes to children's books, there is greater evidence of continence. This, dare one say it, is a matter of particular relit", for although adults are quite capable of deciding what they want to read themselves, they are considerably less competent to decide what is best for their children to read, and the well-judged award can help to establish a very useful guideline. Bookbuyer therefore makes no apology for disclosing that Britain's nominees for the coveted international Hans Andersen medals — to be awarded in Athens next spring — are to be Rosemary Sutcliffe and Charles Keeping. The choice of Miss Sutcliffe, by a knowledgeable panel of children's experts, was for her general achievement as an author of historical novels, and that of Mr Keeping was for his imaginative illustrations in books like Elidor and The God Beneath the Sea. While on that subject, it is nice to note that the Kate Greenaway Medal for illustrative work has been given to Krystyna Turska, and that the Carnegie Medal for children's authorship has been won by Richard Adams for Watership Down.

Written by a civil servant who wanted to keep his children quiet, Watership Down was rejected by three literary agents (including Curtis Brown) and by four publishers, among them Bodley Head and Longman. It was finally accepted by Rex Collings, who started business on a shoestring in 1969 with the object of publishing adult books on Africa, but who may now see life in a different light. Since the Carnegie Medal was awarded, a branch manager of a well-known retail chain told a customer that since his company did not stock Collings' books he could not supply Watership Down. Bookbuyer refuses to believe such things. Next month he will come back to W. H. Smith, figuratively speaking.