Hunter S. Thompson Chillingly Predicts the Future, Telling Studs Terkel About the Coming Revenge of the Economically & Technologically “Obsolete” (1967)

Image  via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Half a cen­tu­ry ago, Hunter S. Thomp­son got his big jour­nal­is­tic break with a book called Hel­l’s Angels: The Strange and Ter­ri­ble Saga of the Out­law Motor­cy­cle Gangs. In it he pro­vid­ed a curi­ous and fear­ful pub­lic with a look into the inner work­ings of one of the most out­ward­ly men­ac­ing social move­ments of the day, based on knowl­edge gained not by mere­ly observ­ing the Hel­l’s Angels but by get­ting on a hog and spend­ing a year as a qua­si-mem­ber him­self. This gave him oppor­tu­ni­ty both to devel­op what would become his style of “gonzo jour­nal­ism” in the long form and to catch an ear­ly glimpse of big­ger trou­ble ahead in Amer­i­ca.

“To see the Hell’s Angels as care­tak­ers of the old ‘indi­vid­u­al­ist’ tra­di­tion ‘that made this coun­try great’ is only a pain­less way to get around see­ing them for what they real­ly are,” Thomp­son writes in that book, call­ing them “the first wave of a future that noth­ing in our his­to­ry has pre­pared us to cope with. The Angels are pro­to­types. Their lack of edu­ca­tion has not only ren­dered them com­plete­ly use­less in a high­ly tech­ni­cal econ­o­my, but it has also giv­en them the leisure to cul­ti­vate a pow­er­ful resent­ment… and to trans­late it into a destruc­tive cult which the mass media insists on por­tray­ing as a sort of iso­lat­ed odd­i­ty” des­tined for extinc­tion.

Studs Terkel, after read­ing that pas­sage out loud in a 1967 inter­view with Thomp­son (stream it online here), calls it “the key” to the entire book. “Here we have tech­nol­o­gy, we have the com­put­er, we have labor-sav­ing devices,” he says to Thomp­son, but we also “have the need for more and more col­lege edu­ca­tion for almost any kind of job, and we have this tremen­dous mass of young who find them­selves obso­lete.” But Thomp­son replies that the real con­se­quences have only start­ed to man­i­fest: “The peo­ple who are being left out and put behind won’t be obvi­ous for years. Christ only knows what’ll hap­pen in, say, 1985 — a mil­lion Hel­l’s Angels. They won’t be wear­ing the col­ors; they’ll be peo­ple who are just look­ing for vengeance because they’ve been left behind.”

The Angels, wrote Susan McWilliams in a much-cir­cu­lat­ed Nation piece late last year, “were clunky and out­classed and scorned, just like the Harley-David­sons they chose to dri­ve.” And “just as there was no ratio­nal way to defend Harleys against for­eign-made chop­pers, the Angels saw no ratio­nal grounds on which to defend their own skills or loy­al­ties against the emerg­ing new world order of the late 20th cen­tu­ry.” The result? An “eth­ic of total retal­i­a­tion. The Angels, rather than grace­ful­ly accept­ing their place as losers in an increas­ing­ly tech­ni­cal, intel­lec­tu­al, glob­al, inclu­sive, pro­gres­sive Amer­i­can soci­ety, stuck up their fin­gers at the whole enter­prise. If you can’t win, you can at least scare the bejeesus out of the guy wear­ing the medal.”

Six years lat­er, Terkel invit­ed Thomp­son back into his stu­dio for anoth­er inter­view (click here to lis­ten) that fol­lowed straight on from the first. Osten­si­bly there to talk about Thomp­son’s book Fear and Loathing on the Cam­paign Trail ’72 (which fol­lowed his best-known work, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas), the two, hav­ing cracked open a beer, get into what the Studs Terkel Radio Archive blog describes as “the sense of sur­re­al­ism in ‘real’ life,” which becomes “a very seri­ous con­ver­sa­tion about the direc­tion in which our coun­try was head­ing. After Thomp­son recount­ed his expe­ri­ence of talk­ing to Richard Nixon about foot­ball” — the only sub­ject per­mit­ted — “Studs responds, ‘Isn’t this what we’re faced with now? … That fan­ta­sy and fact become one.’ ”

What’s a reporter to do in such an envi­ron­ment? Terkel seems to see in Thomp­son the per­fect kind of “sub­jec­tive” jour­nal­ist, one “who can make lit­er­al what is psy­chic in our lives,” for a time that has lost its own objec­tiv­i­ty. “Has there ever been any such thing as objec­tive jour­nal­ism?” he asks. “It’s prob­a­bly the high­est kind of jour­nal­ism, if you can do it.” Thomp­son replies. “Nobody I know has ever done it, and I don’t have time to learn it.” But the dis­tinc­tive suite of jour­nal­is­tic skills he did pos­sess primed him to per­ceive cer­tain real­i­ties — and per­ceive them with a dis­tinc­tive vivid­ness — that have only become more real in the decades since. What, for instance, did he learn from cov­er­ing the 1972 pres­i­den­tial cam­paign? “Pow­er cor­rupts… but it’s also a fan­tas­tic high.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

New Ani­ma­tion: Hunter S. Thomp­son Talks with Studs Terkel About the Hell’s Angels & The Out­law Life

Hunter S. Thomp­son Gets Con­front­ed by The Hell’s Angels: Where’s Our Two Kegs of Beer? (1967)

Hunter S. Thompson’s Con­spir­a­to­r­i­al 9/11 Inter­view: “The Pub­lic Ver­sion of the News is Nev­er Real­ly What Hap­pened”

Hunter S. Thomp­son Gets in a Gun­fight with His Neigh­bor & Dis­pens­es Polit­i­cal Wis­dom: “In a Democ­ra­cy, You Have to Be a Play­er”

Read 18 Lost Sto­ries From Hunter S. Thompson’s For­got­ten Stint As a For­eign Cor­re­spon­dent

Read 11 Free Arti­cles by Hunter S. Thomp­son That Span His Gonzo Jour­nal­ist Career (1965–2005)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Stream a 24 Hour Playlist of Charles Dickens Stories, Featuring Classic Recordings by Laurence Olivier, Orson Welles & More

Chil­dren, cast off your fin­ger­less mitts and gath­er round the mer­ci­ful­ly cold hearth for some old timey, sea­son­al­ly inap­pro­pri­ate lis­ten­ing.

Spo­ti­fy has pulled togeth­er 67 Charles Dick­ens audio clas­sics into a mas­sive playlist for your sum­mer­time lis­ten­ing enjoy­ment–near­ly 24 hours worth. That should last the long cross-coun­try dri­ve to see grand­ma.

Big goril­las like Oliv­er Twist and Great Expec­ta­tions fig­ure promi­nent­ly. Sir Lau­rence Olivi­er, prepar­ing to step into the part of Mr. Micaw­ber, calls David Cop­per­field “a nov­el which I think must be almost the most famous ever writ­ten.”

Still true half a cen­tu­ry lat­er? Imma­te­r­i­al. Olivier’s use of “I think” and “almost” leaves room enough for a sort of genial, gen­er­al agree­ment.

Some of the intro­duc­tions give unin­ten­tion­al­ly hilar­i­ous added val­ue, such as host Frank Craven’s attempt to con­tex­tu­al­ize a Lux Radio The­ater pre­sen­ta­tion star­ring Orson Welles as Syd­ney Car­ton in A Tale of Two Cities excerpt. The author’s work was often pub­lished in ser­i­al form, he tells lis­ten­ers:

Records tell us of how crowds thronged the wards of New York City to receive news of their favorite hero­ine or hero. For already, the names of Dick­ens’ char­ac­ters were house­hold words, as much, I imag­ine, as Lux Toi­let Soap is a house­hold word through­out Amer­i­ca today, and for very much the same reason–the abil­i­ty to find approval among peo­ple of all kinds of ages and every walk of life, not only among women who are anx­ious to pre­serve their love­li­ness but with every mem­ber of the fam­i­ly, young and old. Lux Toi­let Soap is quick to make friends and to keep them. 

How dis­ap­point­ed the spon­sors must’ve been that in the whole of A Tale of Two Cities, there’s not a sin­gle ref­er­ence to soap. (For the record, Oliv­er Twist has one and David Cop­per­field has two…)

Less­er known treats include Emlyn Williams, a Welsh actor who spent three decades per­form­ing as Dick­ens in a tour­ing solo show, read­ing “Mr. Chops,” a tale of a cir­cus dwarf, ill used by soci­ety. Dick­ens him­self per­formed the sto­ry on his pop­u­lar lec­ture tours. More recent­ly actor Simon Cal­low mined it for a one man show. Stur­dy mate­r­i­al.

The 24-hour playlist (the first one above) will be added to our list of Free Audio Books. If you need to down­load Spo­ti­fy’s free soft­ware, grab it here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Charles Dick­ens’ Life & Lit­er­ary Works

8+ Hours of Clas­sic Charles Dick­ens Sto­ries Dra­ma­tized, Star­ring Orson Welles, Boris Karloff, Richard Bur­ton & More

Charles Dar­win & Charles Dick­ens’ Four-Hour Work Day: The Case for Why Less Work Can Mean More Pro­duc­tiv­i­ty

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

An 8‑Hour Marathon Reading of 500 Emily Dickinson Poems

It’s unlike­ly that reclu­sive poet Emi­ly Dick­in­son would have want­ed much fuss made over her birth­day while still alive to cel­e­brate it.

But with the lady safe­ly ensconced in Amherst’s West Cemetery’s plot 53 for more than a cen­tu­ry, fans can observe the day in the man­ner they see fit.

The Library of Con­gress’ Poet­ry and Lit­er­a­ture Cen­ter threw in with the Fol­ger Library in cel­e­bra­tion of her 184th, invit­ing poet­ry lovers to the free marathon read­ing of her work, above (and below).

Poet Eleanor Hegin­both­am cit­ed Dickinson’s let­ter to her edi­tor, abo­li­tion­ist Thomas Went­worth Hig­gin­son–“Are you too deeply occu­pied to say if my verse is alive?”–before prim­ing the break­fast crowd on what they should expect from the 8 hour marathon:

We’re just going to have a day with no dis­cus­sion beyond… And it will be frus­trat­ing that we can’t ask ques­tions, we can’t stop and say, “Oh, my good­ness.  Let’s do that one over again.”  We’re just going to read and read and read.  And from this moment on, the voice of Emi­ly Dick­in­son, through those of you in this room, that’s the only voice we’re going to hear, and won’t that be fun?

Yes, though you may want to pack a nutri­tious snack to keep your ener­gy up. The read­ing slots were secured by means of an online sign up sheet, and while such egal­i­tar­i­an­ism is laud­able, it does not nec­es­sar­i­ly con­fer per­for­mance chops on the inex­pe­ri­enced.

Nat­u­ral­ly, there are stand outs.

Mar­i­anne Noble, Asso­ciate Pro­fes­sor of Lit­er­a­ture at Amer­i­can Uni­ver­si­ty, is a high­light with Poem 75, (2:36:40, above). Her Emi­ly Rocks t‑shirt is pret­ty rad too.

Pro­fes­sor Hegin­both­am is anoth­er sort of treat with Poem 416, 30 min­utes and 40 sec­onds into the sec­ond video, below.

All told, the vol­un­teer read­ers held the podi­um for 8 hours, mak­ing it through 500 poems, slight­ly less than a third of the poet’s out­put.

A tran­script of the event, with the read­ers’ names record­ed before their cho­sen vers­es can be found here.

Sin­gle tick­ets for the Fol­ger’s 2017 Emi­ly Dick­in­son Birth­day Trib­ute, co-host­ed by poet and  fem­i­nist lit­er­ary crit­ic, San­dra M. Gilbert, go on sale August 1.

This marathon read­ing of Dick­in­son’s poems will be added to our col­lec­tion, 1,000 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Online Emi­ly Dick­in­son Archive Makes Thou­sands of the Poet’s Man­u­scripts Freely Avail­able

The Sec­ond Known Pho­to of Emi­ly Dick­in­son Emerges

Bill Mur­ray Reads Poet­ry at a Con­struc­tion Site: Emi­ly Dick­in­son, Bil­ly Collins & More

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Dis­cuss Emi­ly Dick­in­son with her infor­mal­ly at Pete’s Mini Zine­fest in Brook­lyn this Sat­ur­day. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Behold Lewis Carroll’s Original Handwritten & Illustrated Manuscript for Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1864)

Almost exact­ly 155 years ago, Lewis Car­roll told three young sis­ters a sto­ry. He’d come up with it to enliv­en a long boat trip up the Riv­er Thames, and one of the chil­dren aboard, a cer­tain Alice Lid­dell, enjoyed it so much that she insist­ed that Car­roll com­mit it to paper. Thus, so the leg­end has it, was Alice’s Adven­tures in Won­der­land born, although Lewis Car­roll, then best known as Oxford math­e­mat­ics tutor Charles Lutwidge Dodg­son, had­n’t tak­en up his famous pen name yet, and when he did write down Alice’s Adven­tures in Won­der­land, it took its first form as Alice’s Adven­tures Under Ground. You can read that hand­writ­ten man­u­script, com­plete with illus­tra­tions.

Car­roll pre­sent­ed the fic­tion­al Alice’s name­sake with the man­u­script, accord­ing to the British Library, as an ear­ly Christ­mas present in 1864. When his friends encour­aged him to pub­lish it, he per­formed a few revi­sions, “remov­ing some of the fam­i­ly ref­er­ences includ­ed for the amuse­ment of the Lid­dell chil­dren,” adding a cou­ple of chap­ters (the beloved Cheshire Cat and the Mad Hatter’s tea par­ty being among their new mate­r­i­al), and enlist­ing John Ten­niel, a Punch mag­a­zine car­toon­ist known for his illus­tra­tions of Aesop’s Fables, to cre­ate pro­fes­sion­al art to accom­pa­ny it. The result, reti­tled Alice’s Adven­tures in Won­der­land, came out in 1865 and has nev­er gone out of print.

Though Ten­niel’s vivid ren­der­ings of Alice and the eccen­tric char­ac­ters she encoun­ters have remained defin­i­tive, plen­ty of oth­er artists, includ­ing Sal­vador Dalí and Ralph Stead­man, have attempt­ed the sure­ly almost irre­sistible chal­lenge of illus­trat­ing Car­rol­l’s high­ly imag­i­na­tive sto­ry. But today, says Skid­more Col­lege pro­fes­sor Cather­ine J. Gold­en at The Vic­to­ri­an Web, “crit­ics have reeval­u­at­ed Carroll’s car­i­ca­ture-style illus­tra­tion. Car­roll expert­ly inter­twines his hand­writ­ten text with his pic­tures to advance the growth motif. His con­cep­tion of the mouse’s ‘tale’ shaped like an actu­al mouse’s ‘tail’ is an excel­lent exam­ple of emblem­at­ic verse.”

Ten­niel, Gold­en argues, “essen­tial­ly refash­ioned with real­ism and improved upon many of Carroll’s sketchy or anatom­i­cal­ly incor­rect illus­tra­tions, adding domes­tic inte­ri­ors and land­scapes that appealed to mid­dle-class con­sumers of the 1860s.” Even “late twen­ti­eth-cen­tu­ry graph­ic nov­el adap­ta­tions of Alice in Won­der­land recall many of Carroll’s inven­tive designs as well as those of Ten­niel,” which gives Car­rol­l’s orig­i­nal man­u­script more claim to hav­ing pro­vid­ed the visu­al basis, not just the tex­tu­al one, for the fol­low­ing cen­tu­ry and a half of sequels offi­cial and unof­fi­cial, as well as adap­ta­tions, reen­vi­sion­ings, and reimag­in­ings of this “Christ­mas gift to a dear child in mem­o­ry of a sum­mer day.”

You can view Carroll’s orig­i­nal man­u­script, com­plete with illus­tra­tions, here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Alice’s Adven­tures in Won­der­land Read by Sir John Giel­gud: A Great Way to Cel­e­brate the Novel’s 150th Anniver­sary

Lewis Carroll’s Pho­tographs of Alice Lid­dell, the Inspi­ra­tion for Alice in Won­der­land

Pho­to of the Real Alice in Won­der­land Cir­ca 1862

See Ralph Steadman’s Twist­ed Illus­tra­tions of Alice’s Adven­tures in Won­der­land on the Story’s 150th Anniver­sary

The First Film Adap­ta­tion of Alice in Won­der­land (1903)

Lewis Carroll’s Clas­sic Sto­ry, Alice’s Adven­tures in Won­der­land, Told in Sand Ani­ma­tion

When Aldous Hux­ley Wrote a Script for Disney’s Alice in Won­der­land

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The Splendid Book Design of the 1946 Edition of Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire

decline of roman empire

In 1929, the book pub­lish­er George Macy found­ed The Lim­it­ed Edi­tions Club (LEC), an imprint tasked with pub­lish­ing fine­ly illus­trat­ed lim­it­ed edi­tions of clas­sic books. In the years to come, Macy worked with artists like Matisse and Picas­so, and pho­tog­ra­phers like Edward West­on, to pro­duce books with artis­tic illus­tra­tions on their inner pages. And some­times The Lim­it­ed Edi­tions Club even turned its design focus to oth­er parts of the book. Take for exam­ple this 1946 edi­tion of Edward Gib­bon’s The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire and its pret­ty amaz­ing spine design.

Cre­at­ed by Clarence P. Hor­nung, the design cap­tures the essence of Gib­bon’s clas­sic, show­ing Roman pil­lars pro­gres­sive­ly crum­bling as your eyes move from Vol­ume 1 to Vol­ume 7. George Macy lat­er called the col­lec­tion, which also fea­tures illus­tra­tions by the great 18th-cen­tu­ry print­mak­er Gio­van­ni Bat­tista Pirane­si, “the most her­culean labor of our career.”

Find more infor­ma­tion about this 1946 edi­tion here. Or, if you have deep pock­ets, pur­chase a copy here.

Note: an ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in June 2015.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

700 Free eBooks for iPad, Kin­dle & Oth­er Devices

630 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free

The His­to­ry of Rome in 179 Pod­casts

Free Cours­es in Ancient His­to­ry, Lit­er­a­ture & Phi­los­o­phy

Rome Reborn: Take a Vir­tu­al Tour Through Ancient Rome, 320 C.E.

A Digital Archive of Soviet Children’s Books Goes Online: Browse the Artistic, Ideological Collection (1917–1953)

At both a geo­graph­i­cal and his­tor­i­cal dis­tance, the Sovi­et Union does­n’t look like much of a place for kids. If you grew up dur­ing the Cold War in, say, the Unit­ed States, you might well have the impres­sion (of which The Simp­sons’ “Work­er and Par­a­site” remains the defin­ing crys­tal­liza­tion) of a gray, harsh­ly util­i­tar­i­an land behind the Iron Cur­tain con­cerned with noth­ing more whim­si­cal than bread lines and pro­duc­tion quo­tas. But if you grew up in the Sovi­et Union, at least at one of the right times and in one of the right places, you might feel a now much-dis­cussed nos­tal­gia, not for the eco­nom­ic dif­fi­cul­ties of your Sovi­et child­hood, but for the sen­si­bil­i­ties of the van­ished soci­ety you grew up in. An online inter­ac­tive data­base called Play­ing Sovi­et: The Visu­al Lan­guages of Ear­ly Sovi­et Children’s Books, 1917–1953 pro­vides a kid’s-eye view into the ear­ly decades of that soci­ety.

A project of the Cot­sen Col­lec­tion at Princeton’s Fire­stone Library, the archive con­tains a vari­ety of ful­ly dig­i­tized chil­dren’s books that show one venue in which, amid these years of “Russia’s accel­er­at­ed vio­lent polit­i­cal, social and cul­tur­al evo­lu­tion,” in the words of the data­base’s front page, cer­tain kinds of graph­ic art could flour­ish. “The illus­tra­tion and look of Sovi­et children’s books was of tan­ta­mount impor­tance as a vehi­cle for prac­ti­cal and con­crete infor­ma­tion in the new Sovi­et regime.”

This ambi­tious effort, dri­ven by “direc­tives for a new kind of children’s lit­er­a­ture” to be “found­ed on the assump­tion that the ‘lan­guage of images’ was imme­di­ate­ly com­pre­hen­si­ble to the mass read­er, far more so than the typed word,” brought in a great many artists and design­ers such as Alexan­der Deine­ka, El Lis­sitzky, and Vladimir Lebe­dev, task­ing them all with cre­at­ing “imag­i­na­tive mod­els for Sovi­et youth in the new lan­guages of Sovi­et mod­ernism.”

Men­tal Floss’ Shau­na­cy Fer­ro notes how many of the books “were designed to indoc­tri­nate chil­dren into the world of the ‘right’ way to think about Sovi­et cul­ture and his­to­ry,” point­ing to a vol­ume called How the Rev­o­lu­tion Was Vic­to­ri­ous, which meant “to ensure the cor­rect inter­pre­ta­tion of the anti-gov­ern­men­tal coup among the young gen­er­a­tion of new Sovi­et read­er­ship.” Some of the oth­er read­ing mate­r­i­al that result­ed, like 1930’s indus­tri­al­ly focused What Are We Build­ing? or the slight­ly ear­li­er How Sen­ka Ezhik Made a Knife, wears its instruc­tion­al val­ue on its sleeve (or rather, its cov­er). Oth­ers, like 1925’s The Lit­tle Octo­brist Ras­cal or that same year’s Chi­na-set A Cup of Tea, offer high­er dos­es of play­ful­ness mixed in with the ide­ol­o­gy.

Play­ing Sovi­et also includes the work of Vladimir Mayakovsky, whose Whom Should I Be?, a rep­re­sen­ta­tive book from the “gold­en age” of Sovi­et Chil­dren’s lit­er­a­ture, we fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture ear­li­er this year. Rus­sia Beyond the Head­lines’ Alexan­dra Gueza high­lights Mayakovsky’s  What is Good and What is Bad? (“in which he explains that walk­ing in the rain and thun­der­storms is bad, clean­ing your teeth is good, fight­ing with the boys is bad, while study­ing is good”) and Octo­ber 1917–1918: Heroes and Vic­tims of the Rev­o­lu­tion, whose “good guys” include “a work­er, a Red Army sol­dier, a sailor, a seam­stress” and whose “bad guys” include “a fac­to­ry own­er, a landown­er, a rich farmer, a priest, a mer­chant.” Good­night Moon it cer­tain­ly isn’t, but then, how many Amer­i­can chil­dren’s books had to attempt a fun­da­men­tal rein­ven­tion of soci­ety?

via Hyper­al­ler­gic

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Read Vladimir Mayakovsky’s Children’s Book Whom Should I Be?: A Clas­sic from the “Gold­en Age” in Sovi­et Children’s Lit­er­a­ture

Sovi­et-Era Illus­tra­tions Of J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Hob­bit (1976)

Enter an Archive of 6,000 His­tor­i­cal Children’s Books, All Dig­i­tized and Free to Read Online

Hayao Miyaza­ki Picks His 50 Favorite Children’s Books

The First Children’s Pic­ture Book, 1658’s Orbis Sen­su­al­i­um Pic­tus

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Bill Gates Recommends Five Books for Summer 2017

Sum­mer just offi­cial­ly got under­way. So that means it’s time for Bill Gates, once again, to serve up a new Sum­mer Read­ing List. This list will help you “think deep­er about what it means to tru­ly con­nect with oth­er peo­ple and to have pur­pose in your life.” Or “what it’s like to grow up out­side the main­stream: as a child of mixed race in apartheid South Africa, as a young man try­ing to escape his impov­er­ished life in rur­al Appalachia, or as the son of a peanut farmer in Plains, Geor­gia.”

So, with no fur­ther ado, here’s Bill Gates’ five rec­om­mend­ed reads for the sum­mer. In what fol­lows, this is all Bill speak­ing:

Born a Crime, by Trevor Noah. As a long­time fan of The Dai­ly Show, I loved read­ing this mem­oir about how its host honed his out­sider approach to com­e­dy over a life­time of nev­er quite fit­ting in. Born to a black South African moth­er and a white Swiss father in apartheid South Africa, he entered the world as a bira­cial child in a coun­try where mixed race rela­tion­ships were for­bid­den. Much of Noah’s sto­ry of grow­ing up in South Africa is trag­ic. Yet, as any­one who watch­es his night­ly mono­logues knows, his mov­ing sto­ries will often leave you laugh­ing.

The Heart, by Maylis de Keran­gal. While you’ll find this book in the fic­tion sec­tion at your local book­store, what de Keran­gal has done here in this explo­ration of grief is clos­er to poet­ry than any­thing else. At its most basic lev­el, she tells the sto­ry of a heart trans­plant: a young man is killed in an acci­dent, and his par­ents decide to donate his heart. But the plot is sec­ondary to the strength of its words and char­ac­ters. The book uses beau­ti­ful lan­guage to con­nect you deeply with peo­ple who may be in the sto­ry for only a few min­utes.…

Hill­bil­ly Ele­gy, by J.D. Vance. The dis­ad­van­taged world of poor white Appalachia described in this ter­rif­ic, heart­break­ing book is one that I know only vic­ar­i­ous­ly. Vance was raised large­ly by his lov­ing but volatile grand­par­ents, who stepped in after his father aban­doned him and his moth­er showed lit­tle inter­est in par­ent­ing her son. Against all odds, he sur­vived his chaot­ic, impov­er­ished child­hood only to land at Yale Law School. While the book offers insights into some of the com­plex cul­tur­al and fam­i­ly issues behind pover­ty, the real mag­ic lies in the sto­ry itself and Vance’s brav­ery in telling it.

Homo Deus, by Yuval Noah Harari. I rec­om­mend­ed Harari’s pre­vi­ous book Sapi­ens in last summer’s read­ing list, and this provoca­tive fol­low-up is just as chal­leng­ing, read­able, and thought-pro­vok­ing. Homo Deus argues that the prin­ci­ples that have orga­nized soci­ety will under­go a huge shift in the 21st cen­tu­ry, with major con­se­quences for life as we know it. So far, the things that have shaped society—what we mea­sure our­selves by—have been either reli­gious rules about how to live a good life, or more earth­ly goals like get­ting rid of sick­ness, hunger, and war. What would the world be like if we actu­al­ly achieved those things? I don’t agree with every­thing Harari has to say, but he has writ­ten a smart look at what may be ahead for human­i­ty.

A Full Life, by Jim­my Carter. Even though the for­mer Pres­i­dent has already writ­ten more than two dozen books, he some­how man­aged to save some great anec­dotes for this quick, con­densed tour of his fas­ci­nat­ing life. I loved read­ing about Carter’s improb­a­ble rise to the world’s high­est office. The book will help you under­stand how grow­ing up in rur­al Geor­gia in a house with­out run­ning water, elec­tric­i­ty, or insu­la­tion shaped—for bet­ter and for worse—his time in the White House. Although most of the sto­ries come from pre­vi­ous decades, A Full Life feels time­ly in an era when the public’s con­fi­dence in nation­al polit­i­cal fig­ures and insti­tu­tions is low.

via Gates Notes

Relat­ed Con­tent:

29 Lists of Rec­om­mend­ed Books Cre­at­ed by Well-Known Authors, Artists & Thinkers: Jorge Luis Borges, Pat­ti Smith, Neil DeGrasse Tyson, David Bowie & More

100 Nov­els All Kids Should Read Before Leav­ing High School

Bill Gates Lists His Favorite Books of 2016

5 Books Bill Gates Wants You to Read This Sum­mer

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

The Art of the Marbler: An Enchanting Film on the Centuries-Old Craft of Making Handmade Marbled Paper

The cur­rent mode of scan­dal in busi­ness and pol­i­tics involves email and tweets rather than mem­o­ran­da. But we do not yet live a paper­less world, even if you haven’t dust­ed your print­er in months. Book pro­duc­tion and sales con­tin­ue to rise, for exam­ple, defy­ing pre­dic­tions of a few years back that eBooks would over­take print. Even if we have to some­day make paper in lab­o­ra­to­ries rather than forests and mills, it’s hard to imag­ine read­ers ever let­ting go of the plea­sures of its tex­tures and smells, or of sim­ple, yet sat­is­fy­ing acts like plac­ing a favorite paper book­mark in the creas­es.

We do, how­ev­er, seem to live in a large­ly sta­tion­ary-less world, and we have for some time. As the fine art of mak­ing arti­sanal papers recedes into his­to­ry, so too does the print­ing of books with mar­bled cov­ers and pages.

Yet, if you have on your shelf hard­back books any­where from 30 to 130 years old, you no doubt have a few with mar­bled pat­terns on them or in them. And if you’ve ever won­dered about this strange art form, won­der no more. The 1970 British edu­ca­tion­al film, “The Art of the Mar­bler,” above, offers a broad overview of this fas­ci­nat­ing “mate­r­i­al which has cov­ered books for many cen­turies.”

Pro­duced by Bed­ford­shire Record Office of Cock­erell Mar­bling and direct­ed by K.V. Whit­bread, the short film is a mar­vel of quaint­ness. It effort­less­ly achieves the kind of quirk Wes Anderson’s films strive for sim­ply by being itself. We learn that every mar­bled paper, unlike Christ­mas wrap­ping paper, is a “sep­a­rate and unique orig­i­nal.” And that the process is pre­cious and spe­cial­ized, and near­ly all done by hand. Lest we become too enam­ored of the idea that mar­bling is strict­ly a his­tor­i­cal curios­i­ty these days, the mes­mer­iz­ing video above from 2011 by Sey­it Uygur shows us up close how his par­ents per­form the art of Ebru, Turk­ish for paper mar­bling.

Mar­bling, the “print­mak­ing tech­nique that basi­cal­ly looks like cap­tur­ing a galaxy on a page,” as Emma Dajs­ka writes at Rook­ie, became quite pop­u­lar in the Islam­ic world, where intri­cate pat­terns stood in lieu of por­traits. But the process orig­i­nat­ed nei­ther in Eng­land nor Turkey, but in Chi­na and, lat­er, Japan, where it is known as Sum­i­na­gashi, or “float­ing ink.” The Japan­ese tech­nique, as you can see in the video tuto­r­i­al above from Chrys­tal Shaulis, is very dif­fer­ent from British Mar­bling or Turk­ish Ebru, seem­ing to com­bine the meth­ods of Jack­son Pol­lack with those of the Zen gar­den­er. How­ev­er it’s done, the results, as “The Art of the Mar­bler” tells and shows us, are each one a “unique orig­i­nal.”

“The Art of the Mar­bler” will be added to our list of Free Doc­u­men­taries, a sub­set of our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Mak­ing of Japan­ese Hand­made Paper: A Short Film Doc­u­ments an 800-Year-Old Tra­di­tion

The Art of Col­lo­type: See a Near Extinct Print­ing Tech­nique, as Lov­ing­ly Prac­ticed by a Japan­ese Mas­ter Crafts­man

How Ink is Made: The Process Revealed in a Mouth-Water­ing Video

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast