Ingersollâs
The Battle Is the Payoff
, but this title had already become a bestseller; it seemed unnecessary to crown as an Imperative a book millions of people were already reading. And at that point, the end of the war was in sight.
Despite its modest number of titles, the Imperative program was a success. Indeed, as with Hollywood and the film industry, the war was good for reading and the book industry. Americans purchased about 25 percent more books in 1943 than they did in 1942. The new paperback format was a hit, as Americans craved simple pleasures in times of peril. This increase in book buying was indicative of an expanded market of book buyers. As
Time
magazine observed, by 1943, âbook-reading and book-buying reached outside the narrow quarters of the intellectuals and became the business of the whole vast literate population of the U.S.âNo longer were books linked to wealth and status: they had become a universal pastime and a fitting symbol of democracy.
Â
The councilâs greatest achievement was neither its radio programs nor its Imperative series. In 1943 it turned its attention to the book needs of U.S. servicemen. Publishers knew that soldiers, sailors, and Marines craved books, but hated the VBCâs bulky hardcovers. Although the council had reached out to the VBC to offer assistance in supplying the servicemen with books, the relationship between these two organizations never warmed. In fact, when council members Richard Simon (of Simon & Schuster) and John Farrar (of Farrar & Rinehart) met with VBC members in December 1942, Farrar cryptically described the meeting as a âfairly complicated one and inconclusive,â and then added: âI had best report on it orally.âThe two organizations never meaningfully worked together.
As of early 1943, no book existed that met the specific needs of servicemen stationed on the frontlines. It would have to be invented. As publishers puzzled over how to affordably produce small-sized paperbacks, a few men worked on a blueprint that would revolutionize the industry. After consulting with Lieutenant Colonel Trautman and graphic artist H. Stahley Thompson, Malcolm Johnson presented a proposal to the council to reconstruct the bookâinside and out.Although they would leave the meeting with more questions than answers, the plan met a chorus of approval. The âArmed Services Editionâ was born.
Over the next several years, the production of these books would be beset with challenges. But with the cooperation of every major United States publishing company and the Navy and War Departments, the council championed the most significant project in publishing history. The organization in search of a project had finally found a lasting one.
FIVE
Grab a Book, Joe, and Keep Goinâ
Dear Sirs:
I want to say thanks a million for one of the best deals in the Armyâyour Armed Services Editions. Whenever we get them they are as welcome as a letter from home. They are as popular as pin-up girlsâespecially over here where we just couldnât get books so easily, if it werenât for your editions.
Â
â PRIVATE W. R. W. AND THE GANG
Â
T HE PUBLISHERS FACED a forbidding task: fashioning a new style of book suitable for mass production while operating under wartime restrictions. For starters, there was paper rationing. In 1943, publishers were allocated only 37.5 percent of the paper they used in 1939. Many found this constraint infuriating when the country was in the midst of a war of ideas. As a columnist for the
Chicago Daily News
said: âWe donât burn books in America, we merely slash the paper allotment. The motives are vastly different, but some of the results are the same.â But the government considered books a necessary piece of equipment; just as aluminum and rubber were funneled to factories to produce airplanes, the government agreed to provide nine hundred tons of paper per quarter
The Battle Is the Payoff
, but this title had already become a bestseller; it seemed unnecessary to crown as an Imperative a book millions of people were already reading. And at that point, the end of the war was in sight.
Despite its modest number of titles, the Imperative program was a success. Indeed, as with Hollywood and the film industry, the war was good for reading and the book industry. Americans purchased about 25 percent more books in 1943 than they did in 1942. The new paperback format was a hit, as Americans craved simple pleasures in times of peril. This increase in book buying was indicative of an expanded market of book buyers. As
Time
magazine observed, by 1943, âbook-reading and book-buying reached outside the narrow quarters of the intellectuals and became the business of the whole vast literate population of the U.S.âNo longer were books linked to wealth and status: they had become a universal pastime and a fitting symbol of democracy.
Â
The councilâs greatest achievement was neither its radio programs nor its Imperative series. In 1943 it turned its attention to the book needs of U.S. servicemen. Publishers knew that soldiers, sailors, and Marines craved books, but hated the VBCâs bulky hardcovers. Although the council had reached out to the VBC to offer assistance in supplying the servicemen with books, the relationship between these two organizations never warmed. In fact, when council members Richard Simon (of Simon & Schuster) and John Farrar (of Farrar & Rinehart) met with VBC members in December 1942, Farrar cryptically described the meeting as a âfairly complicated one and inconclusive,â and then added: âI had best report on it orally.âThe two organizations never meaningfully worked together.
As of early 1943, no book existed that met the specific needs of servicemen stationed on the frontlines. It would have to be invented. As publishers puzzled over how to affordably produce small-sized paperbacks, a few men worked on a blueprint that would revolutionize the industry. After consulting with Lieutenant Colonel Trautman and graphic artist H. Stahley Thompson, Malcolm Johnson presented a proposal to the council to reconstruct the bookâinside and out.Although they would leave the meeting with more questions than answers, the plan met a chorus of approval. The âArmed Services Editionâ was born.
Over the next several years, the production of these books would be beset with challenges. But with the cooperation of every major United States publishing company and the Navy and War Departments, the council championed the most significant project in publishing history. The organization in search of a project had finally found a lasting one.
FIVE
Grab a Book, Joe, and Keep Goinâ
Dear Sirs:
I want to say thanks a million for one of the best deals in the Armyâyour Armed Services Editions. Whenever we get them they are as welcome as a letter from home. They are as popular as pin-up girlsâespecially over here where we just couldnât get books so easily, if it werenât for your editions.
Â
â PRIVATE W. R. W. AND THE GANG
Â
T HE PUBLISHERS FACED a forbidding task: fashioning a new style of book suitable for mass production while operating under wartime restrictions. For starters, there was paper rationing. In 1943, publishers were allocated only 37.5 percent of the paper they used in 1939. Many found this constraint infuriating when the country was in the midst of a war of ideas. As a columnist for the
Chicago Daily News
said: âWe donât burn books in America, we merely slash the paper allotment. The motives are vastly different, but some of the results are the same.â But the government considered books a necessary piece of equipment; just as aluminum and rubber were funneled to factories to produce airplanes, the government agreed to provide nine hundred tons of paper per quarter
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