Boyd Tonkin: A planetary quest for stellar books

The week in books

Good luck to the new-born – or rather, still-gestating – Literature Prize. Created as if in answer to many pleas for a more stringent fiction award, after the Man Booker's perceived downmarket drift, the planned contest will judge novels against an "uncompromising standard of excellence".

The prize, whose organisers are still in search of funds, intends to "offer readers a selection of novels that, in the view of... expert judges, are unsurpassed in their quality and ambition". Having written in a similar vein a few weeks ago, when the Booker judges took aim at their collective feet in an ill-advised fit of populism, I hope that this newcomer thrives. At the least, its threat will prompt an agonising – and long-overdue - re-appraisal among the Man Booker team. It might even prove to be the shock that prods the senior competition into renewed life.

Significantly, the Literature Prize will go to "the best novel written in the English language and published in the UK", while "a writer's country of origin will not be a factor". In other words, cheer up Roth and Franzen fans: the Americans, barred since its birth from the Booker, are coming at last. I'm glad, if only because it leaves the role and remit of another, actually existing prize, unaffected.

The Independent Foreign Fiction Prize – this country's most valuable and most influential honour for fiction in translation – will be awarded again in May 2012. At a time when public backing for the arts can never be taken for granted, it's a great privilege to announce that the award continues to benefit from the far-sighted support of Arts Council England, and from the administrative expertise of Booktrust. Joining me on the panel of judges will be Hephzibah Anderson, columnist for Bloomberg Muse and former Daily Mail fiction editor, whose memoir Chastened appeared in 2009; Nick Barley, now director of the Edinburgh International Book Festival and before that publisher/editor of Blueprint, Tate and The List magazines; Jon Cook, professor of literature and director of the Centre for Creative and Performing Arts at UEA, Norwich, who is also chair of Arts Council England, East, and a member of the national Arts Council; and Xiaolu Guo, the novelist and film-maker whose Village of Stone - written in Chinese - reached the Independent prize shortlist, and whose A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers - written in English - was shortlisted for the Orange Prize.

All literary awards need limits and definitions in order to have meaning. Indeed, it's the absence of widely-understood criteria that often muffles the reception given to the Nobel Prize in Literature. With the Independent prize, we try to keep the eligibility hurdles as simple as possible. It's a reward for a superb translation of a superb novel, with this equality of emphasis reflected in a 50/50 split of the £10,000 prize money between author and translator; and it goes to first UK editions of works by writers alive at the time of publication here.

In one respect, however, the prize casts its net far wider than many seem to think. Over the past decade, I've lost track of the times that people have praised the fact that the Independent hosts an award for "European" fiction. It is not, and never has been, that. Won this year by Santiago Roncaglioglo from Peru (and translator Edith Grossman), in 2009 by Evelio Rosero from Colombia (and Anne McLean), in 2007 by José Eduardo Agualusa from Angola (and Daniel Hahn), it has always been open to the world. Latin American fiction of course looms large, along with an ever-broadening stream of entries from the languages of east Asia; and, two years ago, three Arabic titles featured on our longlist. I do regret that, even now, so few literary translations from the languages of the Indian subcontinent arrive in the UK. When Sankar's bewitching Chowringhee (from Bengali) made it to the shortlist, we enjoyed a brief glimpse of the riches we miss.

Yes, Europe remains a citadel and powerhouse of fiction. Yet the balance of trade, in words as much as in goods, has shifted fast. The "good Europeans" of the literary world often strike me as parochial these days. However you choose to define it, the pursuit of excellence – which the Independent competition shares with the fledgling Literature Prize and (let's hope) with a reinvigorated Man Booker – ought to span the entire planet.

Words to break the gangster spell

Established in 2009, the PEN/ Pinter Prize both selects an author who embodies the late playwright's own values – and asks the winner to nominate a "writer of courage" who has suffered imprisonment. David Hare, who took this year's award, has chosen Roberto Saviano as his co-winner. The "jailers" who keep the Neapolitan author of the mafia exposé Gomorrah in hiding – and under round-the-clock guard – act not for the state but for the mobsters he dared to name, and who ordered his death. Salman Rushdie, who lived under such a curse, has advised Saviano on how to cope. Let's hope that, unlike Rushdie, he will not wait a decade before the spell is broken.

Faber's uncommon people

I do hope that it's not a portent. Jarvis Cocker has accepted a two-year appointment at Faber & Faber as editor-at-large for the august publisher. The musical icon will take on a "broad commissioning role" in a house with a strong pop-culture profile. Pete Townshend once held a similar role there, and editor Lee Brackstone now looks forward to a Cocker list that reflects "his eccentric and yet popular touch". Congratulations all round. But I can't resist pointing out that, in spite of all his later projects, most of us remember Cocker primarily because of a band called... Pulp. How unfortunate, in the book business. Never mind. I'm sure that the Faber touch will ensure that (all together now) "You'll never fail like common people/ You'll never watch your life slide out of view, and dance and drink and screw/ Because there's nothing else to do." But the job does raise the possibility of a live double-bill that paired Cocker's group with Stephen King and Amy Tan's band of rocking writers. Its name? The Remainders.