In the mid-1860s, the factory at 133 Rye Lane in south-east London produced cricket bats, roller skates and guns. Later it became a meat-processing plant, and some years after that, the Redeemed Christian Church of God-House of Praise.  

Today, it is a broader church – a metropolitan culture hub and workspace, with a rooftop bar, cinema and regular programme of live music. In stark contrast to this higgledy-piggledy history, the firm on one of the upper floors is both incredibly neat and incredibly quiet. The marketing department sits on one side, editorial on the other. Ranged across the back wall are rows and rows of books perfectly ordered on shelves: cream covers for non-fiction, International Klein Blue for fiction. 

If creativity here is a quietly cerebral affair, the impact of the firm itself has been as rambunctious and unexpected as the building it inhabits. Fitzcarraldo Editions, launched by the Franco-British editor Jacques Testard and named after a 1982 Werner Herzog film about an intractable challenge, is now almost 12 years old. In that time, it has not only built a fiercely loyal following on the back of its clever and distinctive branding, but has established itself as one of translated fiction’s biggest success stories. 

‘The aim is to publish books and authors we believe in: ambitious, innovative, contemporary,’ says Testard. ‘Books that push the boundaries of form or operate at the intersection of genres. The point was, from the very beginning, to take risks on books that are deemed too risky for the market by other publishing houses. The books that are perhaps ahead of their time, or that are by authors with a body of work that was not available in English.’ 

Fitzcarraldo’s first book was Zone by Mathias Énard, translated by Charlotte Mandell (an author and translator pairing that has gone on to be nominated for the International Booker Prize twice, including this year) – a 521-page stream-of-consciousness novel written in one sentence, about violent conflict in the 20th century.  

‘It was supposed to be – and I think still acts as – a kind of mission statement,’ says Testard, ‘that we’re a press that’s there to do the not-obvious book. We’re always pushing to be as radical as possible.’ Its radical approach has paid off: Fitzcarraldo books have been nominated (longlisted or shortlisted) for the International Booker Prize 17 times, more than any other publisher. 

Fitzcarraldo and the International Booker Prize came of age together, establishing themselves over the past decade and becoming instigators as well as beneficiaries of the burgeoning appeal of translated fiction in Britain.  

The International Booker Prize did not begin life as a prize for translated fiction – for a decade after it was first launched in 2005, it was a biennial prize presented to an author for a body of work, regardless of whether the work was originally written in English or in another language.  

Less than two years after Fitzcarraldo was founded in 2014, the prize was reconstituted in its current form – as an award for a single book, written in another language and translated into English and published in the UK or Ireland.  

The International Booker Prize is now the world’s most prestigious award for translated novels and short-story collections and the mirror of its sister award, the Booker Prize, which rewards works originally written in English. Together the two prizes offer an annual snapshot of the very best contemporary fiction written by authors from all over the world and published in the UK and Ireland. In both cases, the winning book receives a prize of £50,000, divided equally between author and translator in the case of the International Booker. 

As the prize has grown in significance and popularity, sales of translated fiction have boomed among readers in the UK – recent research by NielsenIQ BookData found that 3.8m volumes of translated literature were sold in 2025, up more than 30% on 2016 – and that doesn’t include graphic novels, comics or manga.  

Buyers of translated fiction are, on average, significantly younger than buyers of ‘general fiction’ (Nielsen’s umbrella term which includes all adult fiction bought for leisure in the UK). The largest share of translated fiction purchases in 2025 was made by those aged 25-34, while the largest share of general fiction purchases came from buyers aged 60-84.  

Buyers of translated fiction are also more ethnically diverse, more likely to have a child under the age of 18 at home and more likely to buy books from an independent bookseller. And at a time when, we’re told, men are reading less fiction than ever, translated fiction bucks the trend. 51.3% of translated fiction in 2025 was bought by male readers, compared with only 37.2% of general fiction. 

But while Nielsen’s figures reveal who is buying translated fiction in the UK, it is just as fascinating to look at who is publishing it. In short, it is independent presses who are driving the translated fiction market – and who have become the cornerstone of the International Booker Prize. 

Of the 48 publishing imprints that submitted books for the 2016 prize, 37 of them were independents. Ten years later, the overall number of publishers submitting books for the prize has risen to 61, and the number of independents has increased to 41. What’s more, over half of this year’s longlisted books, and four of the last five winning books, are published in the UK by indies. 

Whether it’s Pushkin Press, with a turnover of £7m last year, or a kitchen-table operation – of which there are many up and down the country that pay their founders no salary and still don’t turn a profit – indies are a key component of what makes the International Booker Prize such a special award.  

Some have made a speciality of a certain part of the world – such as Edinburgh-based Latin America specialists Charco Press, shortlisted in 2026 with Ana Paula Maia’s On Earth As It Is Beneath, having also been shortlisted in 2020, 2022 and 2024, and longlisted in 2018. 

Others have focused elsewhere, such as MTO Press, which publishes only female or non-binary writers and translators – it was longlisted in 2024 with Urszula Honek’s White Nights, translated by Kate Webster. All are distinguished by courageous, visionary editors who know what literature appeals to them and then set out to find it, often without the constraints that affect the commissioning decisions of bigger publishers.  

Veteran publisher Christopher MacLehose – a man who is regarded by many as the doyen of translated fiction publishing in Britain, who founded MacLehose Press and whose career has spanned both independent houses and large conglomerates – says: ‘The corporate publishers aren’t where it’s happening. Any editor today who wants to do interesting work must work for an independent.’  

Tara Tobler, Senior Fiction Editor of And Other Stories, publisher of last year’s International Booker Prize winner, Heart Lamp by Banu Mushtaq, translated from Kannada by Deepa Bhasthi, adds: ‘We have complete artistic freedom to do what we want. I don’t see a single downside to it. I love what I do. I love working with the people that I work with, and I love all the passion that small presses are bringing to literature right now.’ 

Being longlisted for the International Booker – not to mention being shortlisted or even winning – has a powerful effect on a publisher, writer or translator. Kanishka Gupta, the Indian agent of Banu Mushtaq, Deepa Bhasthi and Daisy Rockwell, the winning translator from 2023 (for Tomb of Sand), says: ‘Winning the International Booker Prize has completely changed their lives.’ 

Such attention is welcome at a time when many small indies are struggling. Small independent presses are feeling the pressure of inflation, war in Ukraine and the Middle East, and difficulties with distribution. Last October, 23 of them wrote an open letter to the Bookseller, outlining the challenges they were facing. ‘We are now confronting an existential crisis that will determine the trajectory of literary publishing in the UK,’ they wrote.   

Nearly 200,000 books are published each year in the UK, and attention tends to be focused on a few star names. Small publishers, bringing out books by little-known authors, face a struggle to get their books onto bookshops’ prime shelf space – or into bookshops at all. Review space, even in major newspapers, is shrinking. Not all titles are made to be promoted on BookTok. The longlist for the International Booker Prize provides a vital showcase. 

As Adam Freudenheim, Publisher of Pushkin Press, which won the prize in 2021 with David Diop’s At Night All Blood is Black, says: ‘What’s wonderful about a prize like the IBP is that it leads to longlisted, shortlisted and winning titles being promoted by booksellers, reviewed more widely by the press, and ultimately being read by far more readers.’ 

‘The IBP is now part of the business model,’ adds James Tookey, co-director of Peirene Press, whose Bulgarian novel She Who Remains by Rene Karabash, translated by Izidora Angel, is on this year’s shortlist. 

But International Booker recognition can also pose its own challenges, especially if you’re on the business side of publishing and wrestling with a variety of upfront costs: office space, salaries, author advances, translators’ fees, cover designers’ fees, paper, printing and distribution, which all need to be paid for before the books even get into the shops. 

Being longlisted can come as a shock to first-time entrants. In 2024, the newly formed MTO Press was longlisted for its first ever book, White Nights, within six months of the business starting up. MTO had not fully anticipated the sudden surge in demand. ‘To be honest,’ says co-founder Ricardo Torres, ‘it just steamrolled over everything we were doing.’ 

‘Being longlisted is the blessing and the curse of the small press,’ says Sam McDowell, co-founder of Charco. ‘A longlisting immediately introduces unplanned cashflow challenges. An extra print run – even a small one of, say, 3,500 copies may cost a publisher £6,000. Then, if the book gets onto the shortlist, there is the cost of bringing author and translator to the ceremony.  

‘It’s a bittersweet thing,’ McDowell adds. ‘There’s no way we wouldn’t want to be on the longlist or the shortlist, but there’s always a little sharp intake of breath of “how are we going to do this?”.’ 

Yet overall, the positives seem to far outweigh the negatives. When Heart Lamp won the 2025 prize, Banu Mushtaq and Deepa Bhasthi’s speeches at the ceremony were watched by millions of people across the Booker Prizes social media channels. Their UK publisher, And Other Stories, struggled to fulfil the sudden surge in demand from readers.  

The carefully designed books, printed on paper made in the Lake District out of recycled coffee cups from a local service station, couldn’t be turned out in quantity at speed. A cyberattack at their printer at the same time did not help. Printing was slow, and so was delivery. The process for founder Stefan Tobler was stressful – although in 2025, driven by its International Booker triumph, And Other Stories saw its annual turnover increase by more than 50% compared with the previous year. 

A year on, the short-story collection about Indian Muslim women squaring off against patriarchy and caste oppression has been translated into 31 languages, including 13 Indian languages. The book has become a global success story, like so many International Booker Prize winners before it, right back to the first winner of the prize in its current format, The Vegetarian by Han Kang, translated by Deborah Smith.  

As Bella Lacey, Managing Director and Publishing Director of Granta, publishers of The Vegetarian – the first independent publisher to win the prize – says: ‘The IBP has had an enormous positive impact on the market for translated fiction. The nominated books are read and discussed throughout the trade, from publishers and booksellers to literary editors, raising the profile significantly of these specific writers, but also increasing interest in books by the same translator, or by other writers from that country, or writers who cover similar themes.  

‘International editors keep a keen eye on the nominations and a longlisting or shortlisting is often all the nudge they need to commit to a translation in their own language. If booksellers were once nervous about the appetite for works in translation, the IBP effect on sales has proved definitively that readers are hungry for good writing, no matter its original language.’

Fiammetta Rocco is Emeritus Director of the International Booker Prize