Faber and Faber's tale of independence
Toby Clements traces the success of the publisher as it celebrates 80 years in print
By Toby Clements writing in The Telegraph, 07 Aug 2009
One of the last reasons you might want to set up a publishing firm ought to be “because my wife doesn’t like the smell of beer”. Yet that is almost exactly why in 1925 Geoffrey Faber joined forces with Lady Gwyer, then a publisher of nursing manuals, to create Faber & Gwyer, a company that four years later became Faber & Faber, which this year celebrates 80 years of independent publishing.
Faber’s family were brewers, responsible for Strong’s Romsey Ales. Not only did he cut his commercial teeth in the brewing business, he also lived with his wife Enid “over the shop”. It was Enid who found the smell of fermentation so disgusting that she demanded he change careers. Before the First World War, Faber had worked for Oxford University Press, so he was in fact returning to publishing rather than striking out afresh. Within five years he had turned a company that published The Nursing Mirror and the Hospital Newsletter into one that hosted Siegfried Sassoon, Ezra Pound and T S Eliot.
Toby Clements traces the success of the publisher as it celebrates 80 years in print
By Toby Clements writing in The Telegraph, 07 Aug 2009
One of the last reasons you might want to set up a publishing firm ought to be “because my wife doesn’t like the smell of beer”. Yet that is almost exactly why in 1925 Geoffrey Faber joined forces with Lady Gwyer, then a publisher of nursing manuals, to create Faber & Gwyer, a company that four years later became Faber & Faber, which this year celebrates 80 years of independent publishing.
Faber’s family were brewers, responsible for Strong’s Romsey Ales. Not only did he cut his commercial teeth in the brewing business, he also lived with his wife Enid “over the shop”. It was Enid who found the smell of fermentation so disgusting that she demanded he change careers. Before the First World War, Faber had worked for Oxford University Press, so he was in fact returning to publishing rather than striking out afresh. Within five years he had turned a company that published The Nursing Mirror and the Hospital Newsletter into one that hosted Siegfried Sassoon, Ezra Pound and T S Eliot.
Rather like Allen Lane at Penguin, then also burgeoning, Faber did this by gathering a talented and strong-minded team around him. Faber’s included Eliot and Richard de la Mare, the son of the poet Walter de la Mare (who is supposed to have suggested the euphonious second Faber in the company name, not because there was another Faber – there wasn’t – but because “you can’t have too much of a good thing”). Charles Stewart from Oxford University Press and the American Frank Morley made up the other directors.
Every Wednesday they would gather round an octagonal oak table (that can still be seen in the archive held at Faber & Faber’s new offices next to the British Museum) and read aloud their opinions of the submissions in question. Robert Brown, Faber & Faber’s archivist, is very protective of these reports and keeps them hidden for fear of damaging relations with authors or their estates. Nevertheless, some details have emerged.
Read the full story at The Telegraph online.
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