Saturday, February 18, 2006

1896. The Year The Literary Agency Took Off.

1896 was a good year to start a literary agency. Literacy was spreading rapidly. In 1894, the art of fiction had been liberated from the albatross of the obligatory three volumes for a novel, thanks to a joint decision by Mudies and W.H. Smith's circulating libraries to only stock single volume novels.

A number of lively publishing houses were emerging: Heinemann, Hutchinson, The Bodley Head, J.M. Dent, Sidgewick & Jackson, Methuen and Duckworth. And the Copyright Act meant that British authors were now able to reap financial benefits previously denied them, from American publication.

"This is the age of the middleman" wrote publisher William Heinemann, "He is generally a parasite. He always flourishes. I have been forced to give him some attention lately in my particular business. In it he calls himself a literary agent. May I explain his evolution?"

The Origin. You become a literary agent by hiring an office; capital and other special qualifications are unnecessary; but 'suaviter in modo' must be your policy, combined with a fair amount of self-assertion. You begin by touting among the most popular authors of the moment, and by being always at hand and glad of a job, you will soon be able to extract from them testimonials which, carefully edited, make up a seductive prospectus to send out broadcast. You must collect these testimonials with zest, just as a pill-doctor or the maker of belts electropathic. It does not much matter how much you pester quiet people for them, as long as you get your circular together. 'You have made one author wealthy (you, not his work; oh no, not his work!) who was poor before; another has found you invariably reliable, and a third has tried you two years ago, and has never been anywhere else since'.

The Business. You commence by taking in a weekly paper, in which you follow carefully every author who has hitherto been unsuccessful, who is just beginning to succeed, and who has found a friend in some publisher, whose endeavours and efforts and work have at last helped to bring him into recognition. You must lose no time in dispatching your cicular to this author, telling him that he has been shamefully neglected in the past, that you can double, treble, increase his income tenfold, if he will only allow you 10 percent of this income for doing so..."

William Heinemann was known to be referring to Alexander Pollock Watt, the first literary agent, when he wrote this epistle. However, it clearly illustrates the welcome facing the early agents from the publishing trade generally. Heinemann, of course, was never in favour of agents because he perceived his own relationships with authors being eroded. Agents were an intrusion.

Heinemann maintained his vendetta against agents until the end of his lifetime, in spite of the fact that, in common with other publishers, he actually employed Paul Revere Reynolds to act on his behalf in New York. What he probably did not realize was that Reynolds was also agent for a number of American authors.

The establishment of the agent in the writing-publishing process was inevitable. Authors were previously entirely at the mercy of publishers. This was highly profitable for publishers, as they were generally more skillful negotiators than the authors themselves. Contracts may have been rather one-sided.

Ford Maddox Ford acknowledged the place of an agent, if with a certain degree of cynicism:

"I should say that on the whole an agent is of little use to the author who has any business faculties at all, but so many have not. The agent's function is to be a sort of bar-loafer who hangs around, finding what publisher, magazine or paper wants what."

Agents, of course, gave much more. They acted primarily in the interests of the author, searching out the most suitable publisher or medium for the work, obtaining the best possible advance and royalties, certainly a good deal more than the author himself would have obtained, enabling a commission of ten percent to be easily paid from the difference.

And there was more: first serial rights, second serial rights, condensation rights, translation and foreign rights. The author certainly had neither the time nor the inclination for these matters. The business side of writing has, and always will be, a tiresome bore to the serious writer.

Pinker knew this, and was prepared to do all these things and more. He succeeded where others had failed. Some people liked him, but he was not generally popular.

Before Pinker, there were a number who purported to be agents, but only one was, in the true sense of the word. Alexander Watt is generally recognized to be the first literary agent in England or elsewhere. He began representing authors in the 1870's.

Initially Watt charged a fee similar to that of a lawyer, for services rendered, but soon found that a flat commission of ten percent of the royalties was more practical. This has been the standard in the trade ever since.

Ford described Watt as looking like "something between a bishop and a butler", which naturally was not a positive attribute. He issued a book of testimonial letters from his clients. Joseph Conrad told Pinker that the book put him in mind of the credentials of his Malayan laundrywoman.

Robert Hichens, author of the best-selling novel of 1904, "The Garden of Allah" used Watt, and described him as "a very serious-looking Scotsman who wore spectacles and had an extremely quiet manner." Already he had acted for many of the famous writers of the day whose signed photographs hung on his office walls. Among them was Rudyard Kipling.

Watt also relieved Conan Doyle and Yeats of "the intolerable trouble of haggling and bargaining". Certainly Watt was a successful businessman and had it not been for his unfortunate nature, he would likely have achieved much greater things.

According to Compton Mackenzie, Watt was indignant when Pinker decided to set up as a literary agent:

"Watt had been the first literary agent, and he was inclined to regard Pinker's irruption into literary agency as a breach of contract."

Watt had reason to fear Pinker, for over the following years, he was to lose a number of his important clients to Pinker.

James Pinker was able to step in and establish a clientele of great standing. He looked for relatively unknown authors whom he could wean and grow with, rather than attempting to prove himself with writers who were already successful. He set out to be imaginative about his role as agent. His entry into the Literary Year Book of 1901 stated his position:

"Mr. Pinker has always made a special point of helping young authors in the early stages of their career, when they most need the aid of an advisor with a thorough knowledge of the literary world and the publishing trade".

In taking this approach, Pinker acted in contrast to Watt and the trend of agency work. Watt's entry in the same year book acknowledged an interest in helping young authors, but it was devoted mainly to a recommendation of Watt by Sir Walter Besant, and a listing of the most famous clients.

Edwardians were not generally noted for their taste in literature. Pinker was shrewd; he knew exactly what the public enjoyed reading. He could spot a bestseller very quickly.

Heinemann also said:

"The literary agency is a favourite resort of persons who have not ability enough either for ordinary business pursuits or for literature."

He underestimated the style of J.B. Pinker. For although Pinker was not a man of outstanding intellect, he had a special flair for sensing literary talent before it was generally recognized, and had courage to back that judgement financially. He combined his natural business ability with a sensitivity to the real needs of his authors. He represented hope, immediate financial assistance, and a stable influence in the cluttered and disorganized world of many a struggling author. He was able to drive a hard bargain with publishers, and soon they would recognize his talent.



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