Much U.S. book publishing is conducted with all the good fellowship, petty rivalry and corporate inefficiency of a college literary club. To many a youth, publishing offers the pleasantest excuse for smoking a bulldog pipe, wearing tweeds, meeting authors, reading books. Result is an amount of dilettantism that would soon bankrupt any less leisurely form of U.S. business.
When from time to time a professional turns up with a lively interest in books as business, publishers uncross their legs and stare in bewilderment.
Last week many a Manhattan publisher, sucking at his pipe,...
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