Archipelago Books is a small, independent, Brooklyn-based press founded a decade ago with one mission and one mission only: to publish works exclusively in English translation. For the latter six of its ten years, Archipelago has resided in the Old American Can Factory, a red brick, labyrinthine complex built at the end of the 1800s along the Gowanus Canal, in an area once known as South Brooklyn. Renovated a little less than ten years ago, it now houses art studios, film companies, performance spaces, and a few other bright spots in the American literary landscape: Akashic Books, Ugly Duckling Presse, and the journal One Story.
Archipelago's office is an open room with a large white support column in its very center. A window takes up the rear wall, while the other three support a complex of shelving practically overflowing with the press's latest titles. The floor is stacked with cardboard boxes full of books fresh from the printer. Near the front door, five people, at three desks, tap away at computers. It looks, sounds, smells, and feels much like the way one might imagine a busy press should. But in this case, looks are deceiving. Those people tip-tapping away, they aren't employees; they're a micro-press startup that subleases the space from Archipelago. And that column in the center of the room, it obscures a desk near the back at which one, maybe two, people could fit comfortably. Turns out, Archipelago Books, a press that has, in a very short time, managed to acquire, translate, design, publish, and market 100 titles from over 35 different countries originally written in 26 different languages, runs primarily on the fuel of one person. And that person's name is Jill Schoolman.
