How do you market a book written in a foreign language by an author who’s now dead, that was originally published 60 years ago, and has been overlooked by mainstream publishing ever since? This series takes an ongoing, insider’s look at the campaign to get Hans Fallada‘s Every Man Dies Alone on the bestseller lists, by Melville House publisher Dennis Johnson.

One of the Hampel's actual postcards, saying, in part, "Hitler's war is the worker's death"

So far, the most viscerally satisfying part of our marketing campaign for Every Man Dies Alone was an idea based on one of our guiding principals of marketing here at Melville House: the best marketing campaign is always organic to the book.That is, there’s always a good idea for how to promote a book buried in the heart of the book somewhere.

In Every Man Dies Alone that campaign was more quickly evident than in any book we’ve ever done. After all, the book is essentially about a marketing campaign.

Not to give away too much of the plot, but as you probably already know it concerns a working class couple living in World War II-era Berlin who decide to take a stand against the Nazis. They conduct a propaganda campaign whereby they leave anti-Nazi postcards all over the city. The cards bear simple statements such as “Mothers, the Fuhrer is killing your children,” and “Commit work place sabotage.” It seems pitiful, except for the fact that if caught they will surely be executed. Their bravery is what gives the campaign its stirring eloquence.

It’s all the more stirring when you know that the novel is based upon a true story: a couple named Otto and Elise Hampel really did what the characters in the book do, and similarly eluded capture for years, and similarly enraged the Gestapo. (Every Man Dies Alone includes excerpts from their actual Gestapo files, including photos of some of the cards — see the illustrations.)

Thus, this campaign started with the word that starts so many campaigns: “Duh.”

Another of the Hampel's cards, saying "German people, wake up!"

Postcards are a very inexpensive thing to make, and a not-so-complicated thing to design, and so we have done a few thousand of them now. I knew from the start what they needed to say. One of the book’s most moving scenes is when it really sinks in to the protagonists that it’s just the two of them against the world. (The book is as much a love story as it is a thriller.) And they say to each other, “The main thing is you fight back.” Our first round of cards said nothing more.

We left them on subways and buses and in cafes and on park benches. I left some in Grand Central Station and in the New York Public Library, main branch. We sent them out to reps and booksellers and stuck them into other books being mailed to critics. Many people who read Every Man liked the idea when they heard about it and asked us for a stack of cards. We were happy to oblige.

We still are — we’ve done a couple of mail campaigns with them now. If you want some let us know. It’s a thing that got to a point where it didn’t really feel like we were promoting a book. Of course, it’s typical for people who really believe in a book to cross over from being a salesmen to being evangelists. But in this instance there is the fact that you are passing along a message that comes not from a book really but from a couple of very brave dead people.

As to the question of whether it sells books — well, we’ll never know. Seems doubtful. And yet, as a potent reminder of what it’s all about, it’s one of the most important components of this campaign.