I just received an e-mail from an independent publisher, Pygmalion Books, called “Open letter to radical book distributors everywhere concerning the nature of the ISBN”. In it, the author more or less equates ISBN — the International Standard Book Number, the classification system by which commercially-sold books are catalogued — with a mark borne by those who have sold themselves to Mammon.
I’m mentioned in the letter as a proponent of DIY publishing, although I come across as something of a naif:
Even within the more developed understandings of “indie” or “DIY” production, the ISBN remains an important cultural element for success. This can be seen in determined expressions of indie culture, for instance, in the attitude of self-publishing aficionado, Hamish MacDonald. In a feature article written for fellow indie middleman, Jim Munroe (who is self-described as “a novelist who left HarperCollins to showcase and propagate indie press alternatives to Rupert Murdoch-style consolidation), MacDonald states that “getting your own ISBN helps bookstores keep track of your book. It also feels damned cool when you get it, ’cause it means you’ve produced an officially real book!”
Spellbound by the domination of his conceptual opposite, the insignificant citizen trades in his hard done by, oh-so a posteriori indie scruples for a brief concerted lapse of consciousness (“no one will notice”); for a momentary fascination with the lime lit idea of becoming a recognized entity of official production. But now, immediately transposed into a varnished practice that is anything but independent, a recent admonition of Adorno and Horkheimer only gains in clarity: “under monopoly all mass culture is identical, and the lines of its artificial framework begin to show through … culture now impresses the same stamp on everything.”
Those who would seek a certain social independence or a “do it yourself” ethic in the face of monopolist alternatives often seem either oblivious or oxymoronically insouciant to the looming presence of the ISO-commercial monopoly serving to govern distribution, in the final analysis gentrifying its outreach far away from any independent social manifestation.
[See the full text here.]
The argument in the full letter kind of crawls up its own arse, which is reflected in the use of tortured language instead of plain English, as above. It’s annoyingly academic, like that group on Facebook who are petitioning to have a third sex added to the list of choices — the kind of discussion that only occurs in certain oxygenless environments. The open letter concludes with no call to action, and the author admits having been too bored to research how this might be applied. So I’m not sure what to do with it.
I do agree that commercial publishing stinks. But for independents to criticise each other for not being independent enough is hardly the way to create an alternative. This is the classic downfall of committees and radicalists: start by fighting an enemy, then divide into splinter groups and fight themselves.
Personally, I hardly feel limited by ISBN. On the contrary, it allows anyone anywhere to find my books, and order them through an independent bookshop like Word*Power (who have my latest in stock again, I might add). In terms of populist sellouts, I’m more offended by the existence of a Paris Hilton biography than I am by the way it’s catalogued. I don’t believe the fact that your creative act can be found reduces it to mass culture, especially when the ISBN system is open to everyone. My work exists in that system equally, along with every other book in production, with no distinctions made between them. Me, Hemingway, the Qu’ran, and Dr Seuss — we’re all in there.
I’m hardly put out by being included in the message. Hell, I’m thrilled: this person knows that I exist and am doing this work. I’m grateful for any new readers who might find my stories because of this message, and sincerely hope that the link in the letter to my original article on producing your own books might lead individuals to go ahead and do their own thing, rather than waiting for some commercial publishing business to give them permission.
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p>I don’t argue that there might be a better system for disseminating culture than the marketplace. I just don’t have the time or the interest to create it. I’m busy writing.
