Australia’s national literature is being devoured

The big fish eats the little fisha 1557 engraving of a drawing by Pieter Bruegel the Elder is a succinct and bloody summary of conventional wisdom about corporate takeovers. A large bloated fish, swollen with smaller fish, lies on the river bank, eyes wide open. Dead fish are pouring out of its mouth. The fisherman cuts open its belly, revealing even more small fish, several of which eat even smaller fish. Another fisherman is about to hook a fish using a small fish as bait. The engraving is filled with images of greed, cannibalism, waste and madness.

In September, Hardie Grant, an independent figure on the Australian publishing scene, announced the acquisition of Pantera Press, a smaller independent publisher whose eclectic list is dominated by genre fiction and commercial nonfiction. This followed the news in August that Affirm Press, an independent publisher with a huge publishing list, had been acquired by a really big fish, Simon & Schuster (S&S).

Corporate press releases were not Bruegelian. Pantera stated that it shares with Hardie Grant “a strong alignment in… missions and values ​​- a commitment to supporting creativity, supporting authors and publishing with purpose.” There have been upbeat quotes from CEOs and managing directors in the S&S press: everyone is delighted, delighted, proud and excited.

Over the past decade, suspicions about corporate publishing takeovers in Australia have been fueled by significant antitrust investigations in the United States, most recently following the Department of Justice’s successful challenge to the merger of Penguin Random House (PRH) and Simon & Schuster.

The picture that emerged of American publishing was that of a sea, a marketplace with five voracious fish swimming through it, devouring smaller publishers, authors, and any other bait that came their way. Concern about the impact of corporate takeovers on American literature also emerged in response to the publication of Dan Sinykin’s fascinating book “2023” Great fictionwho argues that conglomeration has shaped not only the literary business but literature itself.

The recent announcement of the 2024 National Book Awards longlists confirms these suspicions: 11 of the 20 books on the fiction and nonfiction shortlists were published by Penguin Random House. This was widely interpreted as evidence of PRH’s mastery of the book world, with industry observer Maris Kreizman writing:

Corporate consolidation is a threat to anyone who cares about books. When there are fewer publishers, both large and small, there are fewer jobs, fewer opportunities for new voices to come through, fewer places to nurture writers throughout their careers, fewer places willing to take risks on ideas that deviate from the mainstream.

This is what happens when the big fish eats all the small ones: bleak times for workers, writers and, ultimately, readers. Should those of us who care about Australian books and literature be concerned about these latest acquisitions? Our little literary world tends to function in a state of precarious balance, and any change can seem a cause for concern.

A few observations before we hit the panic button: Australian publishing houses are very different from their American counterparts. We are, of course, a very small pond compared to this. The huge advances that have been made in US antitrust prosecutions – over $250,000 – are simply not regularly applied in Australia.

In Australian news, it is also important to distinguish between the two taking sides. Hardie Grant, who acquired Pantera, is himself an independent Australian publisher – unlike the multinational Simon & Schuster. None of these acquisitions poses the threat of a megafish emerging that will devour its competitors, as was the case with the PRH/S&S merger in the US.

Our market is also different. The Big Five publishers may feature on Australia’s bestseller lists, but independent publishers are the gatekeepers of our literary culture. The long lists of the Miles Franklin and Stella Awards are dominated by books published by independent publishers, including small publishers such as Transit Lounge, Giramondo, Magabala and Upswell, as well as slightly larger private publishers such as Text, Allen and Odwiń i pisj.

If you pay attention to such things, independent publishers are also overrepresented on the 50 best books of the 21st century by Conversation experts. There is no doubt that important Australian books are published by the Big Five. Still, their letters present a narrower history of contemporary Australian literature than those published by independent authors.

It has become conventional to talk about different parts of the cultural world as ecosystems, including publishing activities. The metaphor captures the interdependence of a healthy publishing scene. Ideally, it would not be survival of the fittest, as in Bruegel’s grotesque vision, but rather a symbiosis between large and small entities, between commercial publishers and micro-publishers, between superstar writers and unknown experimenters. Let’s not get too carried away with the metaphor – in Australia, for our national literature to thrive, we need independent publishers like Pantera and Affirm.

It’s hard to argue that Australian independent publishing is in a terrible state right now without some serious caveats. Wages for writers and publishing workers are notoriously low. The results of a 2022 study of the Australian publishing workforce are grim: not only did the sector lack diversity and inclusion, but there were also high rates of mental illness. Booktopia went into administration and is now back in business. There is an emerging existential threat posed by AI technologies. Amazon doesn’t care one bit about the rise of Australian literature, and yet it exerts a huge influence on the market. Universities traditionally support the independent publishing scene through their presses; Currently, the higher education sector is in a financial crisis. And while the Albanian government is increasingly recognizing the importance of the arts to Australian society, funding for arts and culture remains woefully low.

In other words, these are unpredictable times for the people and companies involved in creating and selling books – and the absorption of two powerful publishing houses into larger entities is causing anxiety among observers, especially those who, like me, tend to view the value of literature as fundamentally incompatible with the corporate imperative to deliver shareholder value.

These acquisitions highlight the need to defend independent Australian publishing and advocate for funded policy interventions to ensure the sector can sustain Australian literature and public intellectualism in its many forms. This means not only publishing books that will revitalize Australian readers and civic life, but also demanding that Australian writers and publishing workers are paid a fair wage. Without equal pay, the sector will continue to fall behind in meeting the diversity goals that writers, readers and governments expect of it.

For too long, Australian writers and publishers have struggled for funding and attention in an arts policy environment focused on the performing and visual arts. This may change next year. The Federal Government promises that the long-awaited creation of Writing Australia in July 2025 will provide structural support to Australia’s literary sector through targeted investment and policy interventions.

There’s a lot to do. “Telling your own stories” is at the heart of the Albanian government’s Revive policy. Whatever you think of this slogan, in the context of Australian publishing, it is a mandate to vigorously support independent publishing.

Are you concerned about the state of Australian publishing? What books from small, local publishers have you read recently? Share your thoughts with us by emailing [email protected]. Please provide your full name to be included in the publication. We reserve the right to edit for length and clarity.