There were early indications that the conversation wasn’t going to go our way.

The first sign was when a journalist at one of America’s biggest newspapers asked me to compare Amazon‘s support of the Best Translated Book Prize to “the Gates Foundation‘s efforts to improve global health, or the Carnegie Endowment for Peace.” My response was not conveyed.

The next was when one of the country’s leading trade reporters called our explanation for pulling out of involvement with the award a “screed” … in a post that was considerably longer than our original explanation.

The killer was when the organizers chimed in with their response. Their headline should give you some idea of what ran beneath it: “Melville House Discourages Translators from Trying to Win Cash Prize, Recognition.” This, about a publisher whose list is over 60% books in translation, and from people we warmly encouraged in the early days of the prize, to the point where we hosted the first ceremony.

As if the headline wasn’t clear enough, the author of the article declared “I don’t want to engage with Dennis’s core issue.” (And at least one important commentator billed that response as “classy.”)

Throw in an onslaught of nasty emails from translators (most of it anonymous but identifiable, including from translators Melville House turned down, but the organizers didn’t), and you’ve got a bruisingly complete diffusion, if not outright avoidance, of the issue. (The venomous commentary from translators, I must admit, has been breathtaking, matched only by their apparently complete disinterest in discussing any issues larger than the potential plaudits and five thousand dollars Melville House stole from them.)

Let me slip back into the royal we here, because this post, like its predecessor, represents a company of people working together for things we believe in, and not the whimsical animosity of an individual — just as we think the BTB’s decision represents a larger group working together — and we continue to believe that the issue is more important than personal attack.

That atmosphere, in fact, has left us loath to engage in a tit-for-tat, but we do want to clear up some continuing confusions that quickly grew out of it …

For example, no matter what the organizers say, Melville House is not preventing its authors or translators from pursuing the prize if they so desire. Applications do not have to come from the publisher. (And in fact, while we’ve had several finalists, all those nominations originated with the organizers.)

Nor did Melville House give back or refuse to accept the award for Gail Hareven‘s The Confessions of Noa Weber, (translated by Dalya Bilu), despite reports such as this one at Jewcy. That award was given before Amazon came on the scene, and as we said we were proud to win it, as was Gail.

And we were, by the way, given two awards, one for the publisher, and one for the author. All the incensed translators who wrote in to say how disgraceful it was for us to say we won the award need to direct their rage at the organizers, who were the ones who left the translators’ names off all the plaques, and likewise in every instance so far have presented the awards to publishers and no one else. The idea seems to have been that the award is for the best translated book, not the best translator. But that remains for the organizers to clarify.

There was one question that cropped up consistently and that we thought fair, and that was: Why doesn’t Melville House pull its books from being for sale on Amazon?

The answer is simple: Because retail is not politics. In fact, we’d be happy to see our books in stores whose proprietors we disagree with most strongly. We’re not only interested in preaching to the converted. And judging by the fact that Amazon hasn’t come down on us, it’s only fair to observe that they may feel something similar — a pride in offering to their readers works by people they don’t necessarily agree with either. There’s no denying they are very good at selling books, which is job one for both of us. They seem to support the retail sector as a free-speech zone, and for that we heartily applaud them. And of course, as is true for just about every publisher in America, Amazon is our biggest account. So suggesting we stop selling books there is, essentially, telling us to go fuck ourselves, and our authors while we’re at it.

And since when can’t people doing business together speak critically of each other? Remember Steve Jobs‘ comments about Bill Gates? But did anybody say they shouldn’t do business together (which they did, to the tune of tens of millions of dollars)? Last time I checked, we still honored — actually, exalted — free speech in this country.

All of which is to say that the suggestion that publishers and authors who disagree with Amazon’s tactics and policies should withdraw their books from being for sale on Amazon is the suggestion of someone who’s either deeply ignorant of the fundamentals of publishing, or a loser bar bully who just wants to have a fight.

In any event, the point remains: Taking money for sales of something you’ve made is not the same as taking money to be part of a p.r. campaign.

Thus, our disagreement is not about Amazon selling books. It’s with the organizers over accepting underwriting from Amazon, which is a way of saying you endorse what Amazon stands for — which we oppose in this instance for two essential reasons:

One, there is a clear conflict of interest — as has been raised by no one outside our comments section — in that Amazon is itself a publisher of translated fiction (in its Amazon Crossing program, which also fed the organizers of the BTB $25,000 for its support of that endeavor).

And two is that this award so far has clearly celebrated something that has been marginalized by the conglomerates: despite Steig Larsson et al, translated fiction and poetry in the U.S. has been sold, overwhelmingly, by indie booksellers (and published, overwhelmingly, by indie publishers. To wit, the first four winners of the BTB have been New Directions, Archipelago, Ugly Duckling and, well, Melville House).

And we’ve already detailed why we think Amazon in particular is toxic to that ecology.

Which is where we need to return. The co-opting of the BTB hit close to home, and the best argument being offered — that Amazon gives money to numerous literary organizations — is a variant of “all the other kids are doing it.” To which we can only reply, as Mom used to say, “Just because all the other kids are jumping off a bridge doesn’t make it smart.”

Nor, we’re surprised to have to point out, right.