Strolling around the bookstore the other day, a book with a startling cover and a wacky title caught my eye. At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig is a humorous travelogue about one of South America’s more obscure countries, Paraguay. Pig is the first book by John Gimlett who has written articles for a number of travel magazines over the years. This excerpt is definitely worth a peek.
In the Guardian, Tim Adams bemoans the shrinking selection and big budget marketing fees wrought by ongoing consolidation in the British bookselling industry (taking their cues from the American chain stores, it seems.) Behind this trend is the head buyer of Waterstone's, a man named Scott Pack.(via Using Books Weblog)
I have another gig besides my day job. Myself and my old friend, Derek Teslik, have started a record label, Realistic Records. Our first release will be a full length vinyl LP by The Recoys, the former band of currents members of The Walkmen and The French Kicks. It's a great album with a great album cover. I can't wait to own it. There's word of a reunion show as well.
Most of you have probably read it, or at least heard about it: Sasha Frere-Jones in the New Yorker posits that the cultural inter-borrowing that long underpinned the vibrancy of American music has fallen by the wayside in the current era of mopey indie rock (I mostly agree). The essay is good - though-provoking - but what has really rounded it out has been his series of responses, on his blog, to the various letters he received - 1, 2, 3, 4 - which have turned his effort into the sort of bull session that regularly happens among music fans.In a similar vein, in this case in the world a film, One-Way Street posits that we have a problem we never expected: "an American cinema that's too good." The argument is fairly convincing. But I can't help but think that some arguments to the contrary might turn the post into a bull session as intriguing as the one Frere-Jones has curated at the New Yorker.
In a recent issue of The New York Times, Tina Brown explained the rationale behind her nascent Book Beast project thusly: There is a real window of interest when people want to know something. . . . And that window slams shut pretty quickly in the media cycle. As a diagnosis, this is accurate - there is a real window (or at least a figurative one) - but it begs a number of relevant questions. For instance: Isn't the erstwhile "Queen of Buzz" part of the problem of dwindling attention spans, rather than part of the solution? (I suppose you can't unslam a window any more than you can unring a bell, but still...) Ms. Brown's remedy is, characteristically, to get books out there even faster, publishing topical e-books and paperbacks "on a much shorter schedule than traditional books." However, the imminent arrival of Going Rogue - whose gestation period was shorter than a goat's - would seem to suggest that Beast Books will differ from today's "traditional books" more in degree than in kind. (On the other hand, from a marketing standpoint, I suppose Ms. Brown was right: six months was long enough for me to realize I'm tired of reading about Sarah Palin. If it had been available in March, I might have bought the sucker.) Now, at The New Republic, Damon Linker has blogged a pretty succinct summation of Beast Books' weird commingling of the redundant, the oxymoronic, and the inevitable: Opining is fun, and so is ideological combat. But a book is, or should be, something different: A chance to slow down. An opportunity to raise one’s sights a little higher. . . . To reflect instead of react. What Beast Books is proposing . . . is (in Truman Capote’s words) the reduction of writing to typing. Presumably, this is just the sort of "something" that might merit book-length treatment...were the whole subject not so last week. Bonus link: The Art of Fashionable Lateness
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