Showing posts with label Scott. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scott. Show all posts

Thursday, October 1, 2009

In Honor of Banned Book Week, Another Misguided Plea For Banning Books

Many moons ago I wrote a piece for a now defunct online literary magazine about my enthusiasm for book burning, The Internet and the Argument For Burning Books, as the last best defense against what many, myself foolishly included, were perceiving as the decline of proper culture at the dawn of the internet age.

My argument, though a bit muddled in retrospect, was in favor of the book burning methods of Cervantes’ Priest in Don Quixote’s library- rather than burn the things that were a threat to orthodoxy, the Priest basically burns everything that lacks, in his opinion, literary merit. A sort of proto-Bloomian brownshirt burning books purely on aesthetics. Through this tyranny of good taste we’d all be better read, fitter, happier people, the nation’s book groups re-reading Moby Dick again and again until everyone is seasick. At the time, I thought it was paradise.

Upon reflection, I’ve come to the bitter realization that not everyone has my impeccable taste. Ironically, as many despots have learned, the books most often burned are also the books most likely to outlive the burners. My sensible program for protecting the reading public from itself would have led to a hyper-literate dystopia in which zombie-like bookworms would shuffle about mumbling in iambic pentameter while the resistance lived below in the sewers, smuggling James Patterson novels, eating the pages as they read to avoid being imprisoned, waiting for a Nora Roberts led coup.

Banning books has become a bit of lark nowadays, judging from the lists provided by the ALA that we’ve been highlighting this week. There are always the usual suspects most sensible folk cherish as classics: To Kill A Mockingbird, The Adventures of Huckelberry Finn. But The Kite Runner? Who wants to ban that? In fairness, these banned book lists that stores like Warwick’s are promoting in their windows this week have lost the context of why someone wanted them banned in the first place. A boy is raped in the Kite Runner, so few would object ‘banning’ its being read by, say, a class of fourth graders. Not every attempt to ban a book is by a reactionary nutjob trying to censor us. The Gossip Girls series, for example, was banned by numerous school libraries for being sexually explicit, unsuited to age group, and for offensive language. Isn’t that the point? The Gossip Girls certainly would have made my list of books to burn, so wasn’t I onto something profoundly good for society? Also, keep in mind when you hear these lists, that the banned books are often ‘challenges’ that ultimately, because of reasonable people stepping in, do not actually get banned. The Kite Runner though, gets attacked on high school reading lists. And really, even if Harry Potter did turn our children into witches and warlocks, isn’t that worth it, considering it also got them reading books again?

And so it goes. The book banners keep plugging away while the rest of us shake our heads, for in this day and age, can anything really be censored in a hyper-networked culture like ours? You can visit this handy map of book censorship and then with a few clicks, in most cases, you can download an electronic version from Warwick’s new e-book store and be reading the taboo content in minutes. Philip Pullman summed it up best after the banning of His Dark Materials: "The inevitable result of trying to ban something – book, film, play, pop song, whatever – is that far more people want to get hold of it than would ever have done if it were left alone.  Why don't the censors realise this?" Sherman Alexie said, “the amazing thing is these banners never understand they are turning this book into a sacred treasure.”

Books, of course, should be sacred treasure, without burning or banning them, but everyday there is another affront to their relevance and value. The latest was reported by the New York Times, about something called a ‘Vook’, being published by Simon and Schuster. You see, the smart folks at Simon and Schuster asked themselves what it was that books were missing. Editors that edited? No, don’t be silly. They realized the main drawback with a book is that it isn’t enough like watching TV. So they’ve added video clips, hence, a ‘Vook’. Rumour has it that among the ideas the ‘Vook’ beat out were the ‘Cook’ which was a microwaveable book made out of mashed potatoes, and the ‘Flook’, which was an inflatable book that could be, in an emergency, used as a flotation device. I get it, you’re not selling enough books, you have to try something new, it’s just that at some point you’re no longer a publishing house (which would probably make the shareholders happy).

I once heard someone lament that there was no censorship in America, for if books were burned it would make literature a more important part of our culture. I’m sure any of the authors throughout the world who have truly had to suffer for their work would dismiss this as naiveté, but I think of it every time I mail a book at the Post Office. The clerk always asks: “Is there anything fragile, liquid, perishable, or potentially hazardous?” I want to say yes, I think books can be hazardous, can change lives and minds and cultures, but inevitably I say no, it’s just a book. Just a bunch of words that never caused any trouble.

At least for a week then, every year, we’re reminded that there are still people who think books are dangerous and that there are still people and places like Warwick’s willing to defend those dangerous books, even if it does mean, by way of some convoluted logic, that I might end up burning a few. Just know when you see it on the news that my heart was in the right place.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Kazuo Ishiguro's Nocturnes: Funny Strange or Funny Ha-Ha?

It's not everyday at Warwick's that you hear somebody say 'That Kazuo Ishiguro is a laugh riot' or 'I laughed so hard while reading Remains of the Day that milk came out my nose.'  That's probably for the best as one wouldn't want to taint Mr. Ishiguro's reputation as one of the most talented, distinguished and classically restrained novelists working in stuffy old England today.  But, beneath Ishiguro's stoic poker face, his understated prose, and his quietly brooding, melancholy characters, there is a great deal of humor, often missed, misread, or misunderstood. 


Ishiguro's latest work, Nocturnes, a collection of five short stories (But not a short story collection, as this Guardian UK interview explains), linked thematically by music, nightfall, and characters whose lives have not quite turned out, should dispel any notion that the author is incapable of a good chuckle.  Among the moments of high-brow slapstick are an ill-fated Gondola ride to serenade the scraps of a crumbling marriage, an old friend's visit to a college roommate who is trying to hold together the scraps of a crumbling marriage, a pair of Austrian musicians trying to hold together a crumbling marriage . . . fair enough, it doesn't sound funny, but that is what is so beguiling about Ishiguro: the prose is so unstylized, so deadpan, you are completely caught off guard by a saxophonist who gets plastic surgery because his agent convinces him he is too ugly to be a star.  At first you don't know if you're supposed to laugh.  His wife's parting gift as she leaves is to have her new boyfriend pay for the surgery, which the musician hasn't wanted all along.  This discomfort continues, the narrator wrapped in bandages, hiding out in the upper floors of a posh hotel, until the moment a stranger on a cellphone says,

"But it's a man.  With a bandaged head, wearing a night-gown.  That's all it is, I see it now.  It's just that he's got a chicken or something on the end of his arm."

Legend has it that Franz Kafka, another author few would confuse with Groucho Marx, was often overcome with fits of laughter, to the point of tears- his own and others- while reading his latest (unfinished) manuscripts to friends.  Ishiguro, I think, is commonly lumped in with the descendants of E.M. Forster, plainly because of the Booker Prize winning Remains of the Day, which, at its surface is a novel of English class and manners (and implicitly a critique of such things).  But that book, like all of Ishiguro's work, is littered with sublime bits of humour and the uncomfortable comic situations that our lives are unintentionally cursed by.  I read Remains of the Day while working at a used bookstore.  It took roughly four hours, which meant, at $6 an hour, it was the most money I've ever been paid to read a book.  At the time I was too young to know it was okay to laugh as Stevens repeatedly attempts to explain the birds and the bees to Lord Darlington's engaged, 23 year old godson.  Rather, I thought, isn't that strange?  I also thought it was crucial at the time whether Gregor Samsa was really a cockroach or simply believed himself to be one.

Nocturnes then, for me, finishes the loop Remains of the Day began.  Ishiguro has given us the dense, uncanny Unconsoled, whose most surreal (Read 'Kafkaesque') moments are also the most hilarious; When We Were Orphans begins as a detective novel and morphs into a Fellini film; Never Let Me Go is a haunting, deadpan parable, whose premise becomes ridiculous in the hands of any other living writer.  Ishiguro's style is the ultimate straight man.  He is able to convince the reader that even the most ridiculous situations can reflect the melancholy poignance of the human experience.  Now that's comedy.

Nocturnes is not Ishiguro's masterpiece, but any doubts about his genius, or his brillant sense of humour, are given the ghost by the second story of the collection, 'Come Rain or Come Shine'.  In it, the narrator is invited to visit two old college friends, now struggling in their marriage.  When he arrives, he discovers that he has been brought to town because they think he is a sad, complaining wretch.  He is told by the husband simply to 'be himself', which will be so unpleasant to the wife that she will suddenly reappreciate her husband's merits.  By the end of the story there is an old shoe boiling in a pot and the narrator is on all fours tearing the pages of a coffee table book with his teeth.  Like Kafka, it is difficult to know whether to laugh or cry when the story reaches its climax, but it is clear enough that we are in the hands of a master of many things.  Nocturnes adds the short story and poignant farce to Kazuo Ishiguro's toolbox of genius.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Great Booksellers Answer Not So Great Questions About Great Books, In The Warwick's Octagon with Reggie Style. Volume One: Jim Stewart

Jim Stewart's prolific Warwick's career began part time in February of 2002.  As his online Warwick's profile states, "if Jim gets behind a book, its true destiny as a monumental bestseller will be revealed."  Towards the end of our riveting interview we are joined by the Book Department manager Adrian, who is denoted by an 'A'.

R: Let’s pretend Warwick’s is on fire.
J: On fire?
R: Yes, on fire.
J: Oh my gosh, ok.
R: You’ve safely evacuated all the customers and there’s just enough time to go back in once more before the roof collapses. What book do you chose to save from the flames?
J: Shantaram!

R: What if my limp body was draped over the last copy?
J: Then I would pull it away from you. And since you’re already dead I don’t care, so-
R: No, I’m still alive, I’m just stunned.
J: You’re still alive? And you want that book?
R: No, I’m begging you to leave me and save the book.
J: I would save the book. No, I would save you. That doesn’t sound as exciting though.
R: Now, with Shantaram, you’re approaching a big milestone- the 1,000th copy sold.
J: 1,000 copies, cool, and how many we’re stolen?
R: That’s quite a feat and a testament to handselling. Shantaram will be up there with books like The Da Vinci Code, The Kite Runner and Secret Life of Bees. What do you think the key to your success has been and is there a copy you wish you hadn’t sold, if you had it to do over again?
J: Well, I do regret selling a copy to this one groom to be of a wedding couple because he took it with him and when he got back the bride was upset with me that I had given him a book that was so much more interesting than talking to her on the plane.
R: Incidentally, have you ever actually read Shantaram?
J: (Indignantly) Yes, and I have the 48 CD set at home.
R: Wow, how many hours is that? Two days?
J: Right, two days, it would be.
R: Let’s do some role playing. Imagine I’m a grandmother browsing in the children’s section.
J: Oh, that is so easy.
R: Because of the pony tail?
J: And the beard.
R: All right, here we go. Excuse me sir, do you work here? I’m shopping for my grandson.
J: Yes, I can help you, I hope. How old is he?
R: He’s six months old, but he’s very advanced for his age. He reads at a fourth grade level.
J: Oh yes, I totally understand.

Awkward Silence.

R: So what would you sell her?
J: I would probably suggest an anthology of stories, because a lot of people spend a lot of money on one book and they have one story. You should buy a book that’s going to have a shelf life . . . and some mileage.
R: Speaking of shelf life. I notice that you’re reading Paws & Effect. What drew you to the book?
J: I have two Corgis. So anything that makes me more enamored with my dogs.
R: So do you think that your dogs have healing powers based on your reading?
J: Oh, definitely. Last night I wasn’t feeling well so I laid down on my bedroom floor (Editor’s Note: Passed out?) and Penny sat next to me and I put my head on her. She never lets me do that.
R: And you felt this healing energy?
J: I definitely felt something.
R: I had a friend whose black lab would poop in the bathtub every time there was thunder. Do you think he was a healer dog, according to Paws and Effect?
J: Hmmm. Probably not, unless he could do something special with the poop.
R: If dogs could read do you think they would all buy coffee table books of pictures of owners throwing tennis balls?
J: Now, they’d want dog pictures of the opposite gender.
R: What would you try to handsell a dog, assuming they’ve read Shantaram?
J: I have a book on how to make dog treats.
R: That would be good. Do you have the ISBN on that one? 
J: I’d have to order it. 
R: What would your biography be called and who would you want to provide a blurb for the back cover?
J: Oh my gosh, biography. I’ll Never Go There Again, would be the title. And I’d probably get . . . I’d get John Stewart. And I would be able to go on his show then.
R: You’ve already planned a tour?
J: Sure. See, I’m not actually going to interview him, I’d just write the blurb myself and put it on the back cover.
R: Oh, it would be a fake blurb?
J: When he finds out what he wrote he’s going to want me on the show.
R: So a little guerrilla marketing?
J: Exactly.
R: If I came over to your house and browsed your library what would I see? Books stacked on the floor? Alphabetical by author?
J: No. The books I purchase I put on the top shelves. The books I need to read pre-publication are on the two bottom shelves. They’re sorted by date, so when October rolls around I know I have to read these books. That’s the idea at least . . . then reality sets in.
A: Who distributes Client?
R: Perseus. Perseus is Client. If you don’t like a book do you put it down or are you one of those people who just have to finish?
J: No. If I’m not caught up in it by the third or fourth chapter I’m outta there. Unless somebody tells me different.
R: What kind of food would they serve on a flight full of Vampires?
J: Oh man, Vampires. Well . . .
R: Is there anything you’re reading right now that this would pertain to?
J: Well, yeah. There’d be . . .
A: Blood sausage.
J: Yeah, blood sausage.
A: Sorry.
J: Well, most vampires don’t really need to eat. All they want to do is drink.
A: Hagis.
R: Just in-flight cocktails.
J: Yeah, so you’d have to put the blood sausage in a blender.
R: So is The Strain any good?
J: It’s very good. It’s a different approach. This Vampire spirit from Eastern Europe gets on a plane. And victimizes everyone on the plane, including the pilots- drains all their blood by the time they land. So when they’re released, it releases a virus in the people, so they become Vampires, and it becomes this huge Vampire plague.
R: Okay, final question. I know you loved the Zookeeper’s Wife and I know you’ve worked as a newsman before, so let’s pretend I’m Diane Ackerman and today is October 1, 2009, the day she appears at Warwick’s for her new book, Dawn Light. You have one question, which I will try to answer as Diane Ackerman.
J: Well, the thing I’m always interested in with writers is what inspired them. I know they get that question all the time, but it is interesting to me because being a wanna-be writer, I’m always looking for ideas that inspire people.
R: As Diane Ackerman, I would say having readers like you is what inspires me. And thank you for coming tonight.
J: You’re very welcome.
R: I would be happy to sign your books.
A: That’s a bunch of B.S.

Note: for more of Jim's adventures, check out his blog - jimstewartstories.blogspot.com

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Pointless, Incessant, Barking

Every time I think of blogging I remember the only New Yorker cartoon that has ever made me laugh. There are two dogs and the first dog says, "I had my own blog for a while, but I decided to go back to pointless, incessant barking." On the other hand, Melville liked to throw around the quote "All is Vanity, All." and most of what he wrote after Moby Dick was considered pointless, incessant barking at the time, so maybe that isn't such a bad thing after all. Maybe the only reason I remember this cartoon is the fact that it is posted by the bathroom sink in the employee restroom at Warwick's, which is technically in my 'office' (A future blog post?).

So what exactly is a book blog suppossed to do? Back in the day folks had the literary salon, the Bloomsbury Group, the Algonquin Round Table, etc. Nowadays, rather than authors haunting bookstores, they are posting on their website and tweeting as they write. We have such bizarrely named places as the Book Slut and the Book Catapult. The web is full of great places to talk books, but for me it just isn't the same. James Joyce isn't loitering at Shakespeare and Co. anymore, he's in a chat room for two hours mediated by his publicist. I am not completely cynical, however.

More experienced bloggers than I have ironically bemoaned the death of culture in their culture blogs, but I think they would be heartened if they spent some time at Warwick's (the physical entity). It's not like a big box store where people are strewn about the floor, not a staff member within shouting distance, it's a place where customers interact with the staff and, most importanly, talk about books- what they're reading, what they've liked. Each recommends card our staff members write and place next to a book reaches just as many readers as any blog post or tweet. It's a lot like a blog with instant feedback- a blog without the anonymous nature of the interaction. It's great to see people posting comments about what you've written, but nothing can replace the pride you feel in the store when a customer comes back trusting your taste and wants you to tell them what to read next. In fact, the entire staff are potential bloggers and don't even know it. It's actually impossible to blog about books in the building without three or four co-workers interrupting to talk to you about books. I know this is true as well at the many great Independents just in Southern California- Vroman's, Book Soup, DG Wills - which is just down the street and is close as you're going to get to Sylvia Beech's store in 2009.

So for me this book blog is like getting the home version of Jeopardy after you've been on the show. It can't ever replace the face to face interaction with staff and actual, physical books, but it's a great place to trade ideas and to incessantly bark about the books I believe in. I hope that any readers we are lucky enough to have will come down and meet us face to face, and I hope that my co-workers, who are always talking shop, will share some of their insights on this blog.
So there it is, I'm officially a book blogger. Now I just have to find a good book to read. Any suggestions?