For those reading this wondering what it actually is, well, it’s a sort of removable shelf you put in the downstairs cloakroom so you can read the paper or do the crossword on it whilst going about your business.
If you don’t have a downstairs w.c or a narrow bathroom then this might not appeal. If however the only peace and quiet you get is whilst sitting on the toilet and you have a bathroom this might fit in then this is ideal.
You don't have to use the Loo Read just for reading the paper, do puzzles, apply your make-up or the read Beano, if you like to take your time and relax whilst on the kasi then the Loo Read provides the platform for almost anything.
There are two versions available:
The broadsheet version measures approximately 7cm x 7cm x 62cm and caters for all newspapers but specifically:
The Sunday Times
The Sunday Telegraph
The Financial Times
The Daily Telegraph
Requiring less space, the tabloid version measures approximately 7cm x 7cm x 50cm and has been designed to accommodate tabloid & berlinner sized papers.
If you take a broadsheet but space is a consideration – don’t worry – the tabloid version will still satisfactorily cater for a full broadsheet. The ‘overhang’ of the newspaper is minimal and doesn’t prevent easy turning of the pages.
—Available from Lazybone, surely, another fine retailer
Simply put the Thumbthing onto your thumb and place into the spine of the book. The two wings will hold the pages open more easily, making reading more comfortable. It allows you to read with one hand only. It prevents the spine of the book from being broken. When finished reading place the Thumbthing into the top of the book so it doesn’t get lost.
Thumbthings come in 4 sizes (small, medium, large and extra-large) for different-sized thumbs and many bright colours.
Book shade eliminates sun glare! If you’ve ever tried reading at the beach or lake, by a pool, on a boat or in the backyard on a bright sunny day, you already know how hard it is to combat sun glare. Solve the problem instantly with this clever shade that clips onto any book to eliminate glare and reflections on pages, and help reduce eyestrain. Lightweight plastic and nylon; folds to store. 9" x 7".
As everyone looking at the homepage can see, I've taken down the sticky On Beauty post. Many thanks to Amy Jay for choosing the book and moderating the discussion. Participation was light between some having trouble getting into the book—myself included—and the drop in visitors that always seems to come with summer.
I had hoped talk would turn to exploration of what Smith meant by the title, since I didn't understand what the story had to do with beauty beyond the superficiality of physical attraction. If anyone has an idea, please stop by the discussion thread and leave a comment. I'd really like to find out if I missed something.
Nothing good can come of this. Our country is now beleaguered in the Harry Potter merchandize [sic], colorfully, festively almost announcing the arrival of the anti-Christ. The worst product available to corrupt our youth was Potter's vibrating broomstick, now taken off the market under pressure of Christian parents because it taught young girls how to abuse themselves and awoke their interest in the sins of the flesh. This is damage that cannot be undone.
Our own President and his wife have let this evil into the White House and have boasted Harry Potter themed Christmas decorations! The Vatican, not coincidentally located in the centre of Europe, has sided with the Satanists and proclaimed Harry Potter harmless; once again the Catholic Church forsakes the Christ and sides with those who would pull us down with them into eternal damnation. It may be already too late to save our world, but we can save our souls and refuse the ticket for a one-way trip to hell Potter provides. It is never too late to cancel your trip.
Well. Clearly, Satan is his father and his name is Harry. Rowling's Baby aside, anyone else get a Children of the Corn vibe here?
This morning, I drove into New York City to meet a friend for breakfast and heard this bit of news on the radio:
Call him Jumpin' Jack Cash.
Keith Richards, co-founder of the Rolling Stones, is starting up the bidding war for his life story and is likely to get lots of satisfaction as publishers have already pushed the price tag for the advance to $7.3 million in the hottest biding war of the year.
By late yesterday, the bidding had narrowed down to two houses, HarperCollins and Little Brown.
...
At the outset, Richards' only goal was to beat the nearly $5 million advance that Eric Clapton snagged for his memoir, due out this October.
Richards had an advance of $1.6 million to write his life story for Bantam in the 1980s, but gave it back after he supposedly told the publisher he couldn't recall enough to fill a book.
As I am currently a little strapped for cash, I have decided to officially put my own life story on the auction block. Although I am not a rock legend or one of the living dead, I did once cause such a scene in Wal-Mart that a security guard was compelled to flash his sidearm at me. You know you want to know all of the sordid details. Bidding starts at $7.30.
One of the sites I read regularly is Bookgasm—a blog dedicated to genre fiction, cheap magazines, and trashy paperbacks—because there's a special place in my heart reserved for all things tacky. They do a feature called "Search Me" which reveals that most of their search engine traffic comes from pervs looking for naked pictures of the starlet of the moment. Or Charo.
BookBlog's most popular search strings are boring by comparison. For example, here are our top ten keyphrases for June:
This month, though, has brought us a whole lot of traffic from Harry Potter searches thanks to the release of book 7. In taking a browse through the stats this morning, I have discovered that BookBlog is the first Google result for...drumroll...wait for it...here it comes...
If you're looking at the homepage, I've gone ahead and made this week's discussion of On Beauty sticky. It will appear at the top of the page for the rest of the week.
I'd like to encourage anyone who's read the book to feel free to leave a comment. I've recently received several emails about joining, but no membership is required. Anyone and everyone is welcome to participate.
On Beauty is Zadie Smith's comical, satirical, and compassionate novel about the universality of human folly and, in particular, how that folly plays out between two families, one religious and conservative, and the other atheist and liberal, in a fictional East coast college town. Having reviewed previous posts about some readers' distaste for Smith's prior novels and short stories, I'm curious to see how people liked On Beauty because I think its different from some of her other work.
Overall, I enjoyed it more than White Teeth, primarily because I found the last third of White Teeth so implausible that it made the whole book seem like a farce. It just got so silly and nonsensical at the end that I had trouble making sense of it. On Beauty, however, made more sense to me. Although the problems that arise in On Beauty do not get resolved, this seems more realistic to me and I was comfortable leaving the characters in the messy states they got themselves into.
I also enjoyed the complexity of novel. I think Smith took on several big issues in this novel and, despite the weightiness of those issues, she manages to balance them with the comedy of her constantly faltering characters and her own tacit compassion for their imperfect lives. Seems to me this is an uncommon gift and it kept me entertained (the primary purpose of any novel, right?) but also interested in what she was doing with the characters and what she was trying to say in the novel.
So, what was she trying say? After reading a number of reviews, I've discovered that some reviewers think On Beauty is a satire about academia, others think it is about Howard and Kiki's failed marriage, and still others think its about the erosion of the polemical values of America's culture wars. I see each of these in the book, but I think Smith dispels the notion of culture wars as the theme at the beginning of the book when Jerome tells Howard in an email "I hope you can see from everything I've written that your feud or whatever it is is really a waster of time....It's such a waste of energy. Most of the cruelty in the world is just misplaced energy." Simply labeling it an academic satire falls short and so much more is happening than just a marriage falling apart.
I think On Beauty may be about the fragility of beauty. Beauty is the thing that inspires people to love (Howard's love for Kiki when she was young and pretty) or desire (Howard's sexual desire for Victoria) or to seek truth (Jerome's pursuit of the bon-again life; Monty's pursuit of conservative values; Zora's pursuit of academic excellence). Yet perceptions of beauty are constantly shifting and revealing people's errors or mistakes in judgment. Smith's characters show how some pursuits of beauty or truth are more successful or authentic than others. Just an observation. What do you think?
In her acknowledgements, Smith credits Elaine Scarry for inspiring her with the essay "On Beauty and Being Just". Contemporary political issues are clearly an important context for these characters. What do you think beauty has to do with justice in this story?
On p. 153 Claire shows Dean French a poem called On Beauty that she wrote, and although the Dean doesn't like poetry, he tells her the poem is beautiful. Why did he say that if he didn't believe it and what is the author saying about beauty with this?
What do you make of the ending where Howard slowly enlarges the slide of Hendrickje, Rembrandt's lover, until only the yellowish hue of her skin is visible?
On Thursday, I had a lovely visit with Sarah, an old friend who blew through town on a Triumphant East Coast Driving Tour (a.k.a. vacation). As one of the charter moderators here on BookBlog, she is, naturally, a bibliophile.
In a rare moment of refined ladylike behavior, we discussed the books over tea sandwiches and deviled eggs in the cafe at Bergdorf Goodman. Well, rare for me, I must confess. Sarah possesses more poise and culture sense than I could ever aspire to and didn't bat an eyelash when I wheeled and dealed for a free gift from the Estée Lauder makeup guy even though I had no intention of buying anything. She did and got a gift set from a promotion that wouldn't be starting until next week, and she laughed politely when the makeup guy told me to "shut up" then stapled her bag closed as a metaphor for zipping my lips. A real lady courteously accommodates even the coarsest of people and handles every uncomfortable situation with grace. Sarah is all that and a bag of chips, despite the wardrobe malfunction at an ex-boyfriend's wedding.
As one of the faithful, Sarah was a little upset knowing that she'd be on the road today: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Day. Although she was sure she would find copies in every truck stop along the interstate, she was concerned about reading it before spoilers spread like wildfire. Being a freelance journalist, Sarah fully acknowledges Rowling's flat prose, the leading contender for my loss of interest after the first two installments. Like many, though, she loves the story and the tantalizing suspense that comes with not knowing what will happen next. She'll be listening to her iPod while driving today as an alternative to any talk of Harry on the radio.
My friend Kate is also a Harry fan and picked up her pre-paid copy at an indie bookshop's Midnight Magic event. Under normal circumstances, she would have ordered from Amazon but doubts about whether they planned to upgrade shipping for delivery today drove her off. When I called to check on her progress, she was about halfway through by 11 a.m. and steering clear of all media until she finishes.
How on earth could you run a review of the last Harry Potter? To do so, you had to break an industry-wide embargo — and not just any embargo, an embargo that is almost tantamount to a public trust at this point, given the worldwide hype about Harry Potter and the excitement and intense emotion generated by — finally — the end to this epic series.
Give me a break with the "public trust" and "industry-wide embargo" nonsense. Seriously, most of the public doesn't care. Even more shrill is The Leaky Cauldron's call for letters and suggested text.
Many ask why we care — why fans aren't all so rabid to get the book that we'll sop up any illegal download or purchase. There's one simple answer: We respect the author. We thought that a newspaper like yours, where so many of your reporters become authors themselves, would understand and respect that. We're so saddened that we were wrong. We feel let down by you and your editorial board.
Sincerely,
Your name here
Harry Potter Fan, and member of Jo's Army
Oh, come on. Why not just avoid the paper? Besides, The New York Times didn't sign a contract with Bloomsbury and Scholastic, like the booksellers did. The contract, by the way, also contained ridiculous conditions like keeping the books "in a secure area under lock and key" and even put the kibosh on taking photographs of them being delivered. They're books, not gold ingots.
And so what if some copies were mailed out early or if pages were posted on the Internet? Less furor erupted over the Valerie Plame incident. But Bloomsbury threatened to enforce the embargo, and Scholastic turned it into a promise when it filed lawsuits against Levy Home Entertainment and Infinity Resources. Without a book 8 to hold (or withold) over booksellers heads, the suits might be the natural course of action to take for breach of contract. After selling around 12 million copies, though, making a stink over 1200 seems kind of petty.
Now I know I’ve touched on this particular subject in previous posts, but I have to ask the question again, “What is the purpose of a novel?” This is not necessarily related to another question, “Why have you decided to write a novel?” The second question can have various answers, many, if not all of them involving some personal agenda on the part of the writer or writers in question. But the answer to the first question, and in all truth, there really is only one answer (which I’ve supplied in this particular post already) is to entertain. Keeping this in mind, that a novel’s main—and in most cases nowadays—sole purpose, is to entertain, a writer should be able to approach a book with this decidedly singular agenda, abutting it and supplementing it with experimentation, lofty artistic objectives, or other personal goals, so long as the primary agenda remains in full frontal view.
My sister is getting married soon, so I've been busy recently with handling the details of her bridal shower. It took two agonizing days to come up with the the text for the invitations, and another morning to sweat over the copy editing. My nerves are now shot as a result of a half-page to be seen by only 50 people. Clearly, I am too anal for print and much more comfortable with the transient nature of pixels.
Flipping through TV channels last night, I paused on video of hardcover books sliding along rollers fresh from the binding machine. CNBC's The Big Idea with Donny Deutsch was profiling million dollar businesses begun with less than $500. In addition to the inventors of capsaicin pepper nasal spray and a high-speed beer tap, Deutsch profiled Vickie Stringer, CEO of the world's largest African American-owned publishing company. Triple Crown Publications spawned from a $300 self-published book and has grown its catalog to include titles from 25 authors.
I couldn't find a clip from the show online, but here's Stringer's story for those of you who have wondered about starting your own publishing company:
Stringer served five years in jail for drug trafficking and money laundering.
Wrote a novel called Let That Be the Reason to warn other young women against the dangers of the drug game.
Queried publishers and agents and received 26 rejections.
Spent $300 on editing and typesetting in order to self-publish.
Asked 15 friends and family members each for $100 in order to raise $1500 to print 1500 copies.
Sold the novel out of the trunk of her car at beauty salons, barber shops, the bar where she worked, and any place she thought there might be a reader. Asked friends and family to also sell cases of books. In the first weekend, she sold 1200 copies.
As word of Stringer's novel spread, publishers and agents began to take notice. They wanted to get into business with her, and Triple Crown Publications was born.
Obviously, Stringer had the right kind of tenacity and gumption in order to turn her self-published novel into a success. According to Deutsch, there are two lessons to be learned from her story:
Never take no for an answer.
If the bookstores won't carry your book, create your own distribution channels.
I was quite impressed by Vollmann, the man, which very much surprised me since I've never been impressed by Vollmann, the writer. His prose tends toward too much bloat for my reading taste, but he maintained my interest during the lecture because his speech is not peppered with simile upon simile. My ears especially perked up when he said his fiction writing is influenced by beautiful sentences. For me, beautiful writing conveys a message using as few words as possible; it's why I much prefer poets over prolifics. Vollmann's fecund style suddenly made more sense when he mentioned liking Lautréamont, a 19th century author who also used lots of words. Beauty, clearly, is in the eye of the reader.
Thanks to Zonker, I brought one of my new beloved Moleskines to the lecture in order to wave it about for some notebook envy. Of course, I was denied the pleasure as is always the case when I conspire to be deliberately evil. My section of the room was nearly pitch black and approximated an epileptic hell due to regular jolts from a flash bulb. Darkness notwithstanding, I managed a few notes, including a few statements by Vollmann which were also quoted in Ed's post about the event. We didn't write down exactly the same words, most notably:
Ed: "As the beast becomes more insatiable, it's for more and more types of meat in smaller bytes."
Me: "As the beast becomes more insatiable, it wants to eat more and more meat in smaller bites."
Despite slight differences in what we heard, both sentences convey similar meanings. However, the last word in each tells a lot about us. Ed's use of "bytes" is obviously interpretive of Vollmann's words while my "bites" is much more literal. I have new respect for vowels; they are the most powerful letters in the alphabet.
During the Q&A, Levi asked why photojournalism today seems to do nothing to change the world, specifically our entanglement in Iraq even though it's the most photographed war in history. Richard Drew said something about photographers recording history rather than influencing it, and my hand shot up to further Levi's train of thought. I brought up the 1993 photographs of mutilated soldiers in Somalia, which influenced U.S. public outcry for swift withdrawal (and, eventually, a book and a movie called Black Hawk Down). Drew responded that similar images have come out of Iraq, including the ones of burned Americans hanging from a bridge in Fallujah. He stated that the AP does not practice censorship and makes all of its war photographs available to the media, but that individual outfits self-censor due to pressure from readers and sponsors. At first I thought he was being overly defensive. I've since had a chance to think on it and do somemorereading, and I now see that most people prefer burying their heads in the sand to confronting anything unpleasant. We are a nation of pussies in denial.
Before departing, Ed brought Vollmann over to introduce him to the Internet crowd and I very much enjoyed speaking with him directly. I asked if he has ever become numb to the horrors he has seen (He has not.), and I told him I find it harder to handle gruesome imagery when I have a connection to it (For example, WTC photos are particularly difficult since my sister was on the shopping concourse when the first plane hit.). As Jason mentions on his site, Vollmann asked the group what journalistic projects should come next. No one came up with a suggestion on the spot, but Jason's afterthought about web video to accompany the written word is a good idea. It was at about this time that the Whitney wanted to begin closing up, so we said our good-byes and headed toward the door.
Each morning, I wake up and tell myself, "You're going to write a post today." Yet, the muses continue to ignore me. Damn you, witches!
Thankfully, Levi at LitKicks has struck a match under my laptop by tagging me with the 8 Things meme. Which I've already done. Looking over Levi's post, though, he was also tagged twice and turned it into a 5 + 3 Things meme. Inspired by his rule-breaking moxie, I'm going to change it again by adding three random facts specific to today and not tagging anyone.
3 Things Today No Tag
For the last couple of weeks, I haven't been able to get a solid night's sleep. Last night, I went to bed around 11 p.m., woke up at 3 a.m., watched really bad television until 5 a.m., fell back asleep, and finally got out of bed at 7 a.m. I wish the restlessness would go away because it's starting to wear me out.
After morning coffee, I spent two hours weeding the lawn. I got rid of the scary dandelions long ago, but now I'm being tortured by crabgrass. Since I enjoy puttering around the garden on gorgeous days like today, I don't mind pulling it out by hand. However, it hasn't stopped my overactive imagination from wondering how I'd react if the crabgrass suddenly grew claws and snapped at me. So far, none of the scenarios running through my head have ended with me being triumphant.
A neighbor trimmed his hedges today, and many branches have fallen on my side of the fence. Despite our past conversations about cleaning up his debris, he still hasn't taken care of it. If he doesn't come over here by end of the day, I am going to gather everything up and toss it back over the fence into his yard.
On Tuesday, my dad called to let me know that his car's engine "blew up" and he had a close call with oncoming traffic because people drive like maniacs. He's fine, though. The car will be in the shop until the weekend, so this morning I drove him around to get his errands done.
Since my role was to play chauffeur, I brought a book because I expected to spend a lot of time waiting in the car. I'm mostly through Steven Hart's The Last Three Miles: Politics, Murder, and the Construction of America's First Superhighway. It's the story of the Pulaski Skyway, which spans the New Jersey marshes and connects the Holland Tunnel to points west. If you don't know it, surely you've seen it flash by in the opening credits of The Sopranos.
The Skyway is best-known as the most dangerous stretch of road in the state. As Steven writes in a chapter appropriately named "Death Avenue":
Within weeks of its original Thanksgiving Day opening in 1932, the Skyway revealed itself as a new kind of road in more ways than one. It was indeed a time-saving boon to drivers, but it was also a uniquely efficient generator of traffic accidents. (p. 160)
When my dad got into my car this morning, he picked up Steven's book from its resting place between the radio console and gear shift. He read the title aloud and asked which road was America's first superhighway. Before I could respond, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the picture on the cover. "The Pulaski Skyway! That's where my car broke down. I was almost killed up there!"
So I got to hear the whole story. And I shared my own tale of near-death on the Skyway. Everyone who has lived in its shadow has one.
Today's errands took us from Raymond Boulevard in Newark (the mechanic) to the Meadowlands Parkway in Secaucus (my granny's hospice), but, thankfully, Death Avenue wasn't along the route.
And on the fourth of July they signed it
And 56 names underlined it
And now to honor those first 13 states
We turn the sky into a birthday cake
They got it done (Oh, yes, they did!)
The Declaration (Uh uh huh!)
The Declaration of Independence (Oh, yeah!)
In 1776 (Right on!)
The Continental Congress said that we were free (We're free!)
They said we had the right of life and liberty
And the pursuit of happiness
So far, I'm having a bad, bad day. Rather than drag you along for the ride, here are a few things to check out in what are surely more pleasant environs.
A bunch of people have already linked to this opinion piece by Tom McCarthy called "Publishing? It's an art form." In it, he gives a well-written and succinct "neener neener" to successful writers, mainstream publishers, and big box booksellers. Being a serious artist among philistines is arduous, but at least his smugness survived.
Also, The Elegant Variation reports that Soft Skull will publish McCarthy's non-fiction book Tintin and the Secret of Literature in the United States. As a child, I missed out on most children's books because money went for essentials and our public library was limited. I had never heard of Tintin until a trip to France during high school, so the cartoons aren't bookmarked in the nostalgic pages of my youth. According to McCarthy, though, Tintin's creator deserves a place among literary giants Dickens, Flaubert, Faulkner, and Pynchon.
I love this see-saw bookshelf. Too bad I don't have enough space in my living room or an extra $1900 in mad money.
While at Barnes & Noble recently, I loitered in the magazine section to read Steven King's "The Gingerbread Girl" in this month's Esquire. It didn't grab my interest within the first two pages, so I put the magazine back. Adventures in Reading, however, "was entertained the entire way through." Also at this blog is a brief review of King's The Dark Half, a book I read long, long ago but only remember from the awful movie version starring Timothy Hutton.
Several months back, my dad did a stint in the hospital for gall bladder surgery. He has always loved Shakespeare, so it didn't surprise me to see The Tragedy of King Lear in his room during a visit. However, I was shocked when I discovered it was a SparkNotes No Fear Shakespeare edition which features the original text on the right with plain English on the left. I understand side-by-side translations of foreign language titles, but, come on. English to English?
Despite my dad's already good understanding of Shakespeare's writings, he said the simplified text helped him see certain subtleties lost among metaphor and ornate language. I bought his defense, but it didn't stop me from laughing while browsing through the book. For example, this line appears in Lear's first scene of Act II:
Shakespeare - Edmund: Look, sir, I bleed.
Translation - Edmund: Father, I am bleeding.
Duh.
I am reminded of when an ex-boyfriend took me to see Kenneth Branagh's Henry V. It was early on in our ten-year dalliance, so he was surely trying to impress me since he had little interest in Shakespeare. As we left the theater, I talked about being thrilled by the adaptation, especially the handling of the Saint Crispin's Day speech. The ex's thoughts: "Was the movie in English? I didn't understand anything they said. It needed subtitles." We still talk from time to time, so perhaps I'll bring up our date and suggest he might enjoy Manga Shakespeare (via The Valve).
So, after a week of being occupied by everything but the computer, I am spending a little time this morning catching up on what I missed. One of my first reads was PC World's "100 Blogs We Love," because you can never have too many feeds in your RSS reader. Unfortunately, the list consists of the same old stuff everyone has already heard about and not a single book-related site is on it. Snore!
Of course, I was very pleased to see Reality Blurred, the definitive reality TV weblog, among the Arts and Culture sites. Reality Blurred is run by my friend Andy, who got me into this blogging thing. I was there the day the site debuted and was amazed when he showed me how a few clicks could let loose anyone's thoughts on an unsuspecting Internet. And look how far he's gone with it.
Not a lot of TV watching happens at Casa BookBlog since I own an inventory of unread books to rival a small bookstore. Despite the handicap, I did manage to tip off Reality Blurred on Bestseller, a book-themed reality TV show currently in development. As Andy reported yesterday, Simon Cowell of "Idol" planned to "pitch the idea to U.S. networks in June." If it makes it to the tube, I will have to put aside the reading to tune in. The auditions are sure to be like watching a living, breathing slush pile with the added bonus of actually seeing crazy writers explain away their bad prose.
is Zadie Smith's comical, satirical, and compassionate novel about the universality of human folly and, in particular, how that folly plays out between two families, one religious and conservative, and the other atheist and liberal, in a fictional East coast college town. Having reviewed previous posts about some readers' distaste for Smith's prior novels and short stories, I'm curious to see how people liked On Beauty because I think its different from some of her other work. 
Day. Although she was sure she would find copies in every truck stop along the interstate, she was concerned about reading it before spoilers spread like wildfire. Being a freelance journalist, Sarah fully acknowledges 
I couldn't find a clip from the show online, but here's Stringer's story for those of you who have wondered about starting your own publishing company:
to warn other young women against the dangers of the drug game.
. Other bloggy folks in the audience included 
and 
Since my role was to play chauffeur, I brought a book because I expected to spend a lot of time waiting in the car. I'm mostly through 
. It's the story of the Pulaski Skyway, which spans the New Jersey marshes and connects the Holland Tunnel to points west. If you don't know it, surely you've seen it flash by in the opening credits of The Sopranos.
I love 
edition which features the original text on the right with plain English on the left. I understand side-by-side translations of foreign language titles, but, come on. English to English?
