Global publishing is a confusing business. Because my book on Princess Diana is being published simultaneously in America, England and Germany (the French, in their languid way, are doing it in September, après la rentrée), the challenge to the author is to be Zelig. One nice surprise is that the Germans are mad for Diana — Die Biographie. My esteemed German publisher, Droemer Knaur, brought me to Berlin two weeks before publication, ensconced me in a room in the Hotel Adlon, and marched the publications in and out as if I was Julia Roberts on a Hollywood junket. Is it the typefaces and the polysyllables that make the cornucopia of German newspapers look so brainy and upmarket? Perhaps it’s that in Germany there is still a huge difference between the ‘serious’ press, which really is serious, and the ‘popular’ press, which is really popular. There was a rumour while I was upstairs at the Adlon receiving the grave emissaries from the broadsheets that two scurrilous scribes from the gossipy tabloid Bild (circulation: 12 million), strongly considered unsuitable by Droemer, were preparing to doorstep me in the lobby. I was made to leave for dinner via an underground garage, which seemed a bit excessive. On a talk show with the Parky of Germany, Reinhold Beckmann, I had my first experience of simultaneous translation. It left me wondering why UN delegates aren’t in hysterics the whole time. The interpreter in my earpiece had a wonderfully anachronistic grasp of English. After a flood of German from Beckmann, accompanied by film of London mourning Diana’s death, the voice in my ear asked, ‘So, where were you when Diana kict der buckit?’
***
My chances of making the US bestseller list seem a bit iffy amid the current flurry of non-fiction testosterone.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in