After much press and debate, HarpÂer Lee’s new novÂel — a sequel of sorts to her beloved book, To Kill a MockÂingÂbird — will be released on July 14th. You can pre-order Go Set a WatchÂman: A NovÂel (already #1 on AmaÂzon’s bestÂseller list). But, even betÂter, you can head over to the The Wall Street JourÂnalorThe Guardian and read the first chapÂter online. The Guardian also feaÂtures an audio verÂsion read by the Oscar-winÂning actress Reese WithÂerÂspoon. Stream it right below. (And, fyi, you can always downÂload a free audio copy of To Kill a MockÂingÂbird through the free triÂal proÂgrams run by Audiobooks.com and Audible.com.)
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Any readÂer even casuÂalÂly acquaintÂed with WalÂlace’s novÂels and essays will immeÂdiÂateÂly sense his deep interÂest in lanÂguage. But if you browse through the RanÂsom CenÂter’s colÂlecÂtion of 321 books from the author of InfiÂnite Jest and A SupÂposÂedÂly Fun Thing I’ll NevÂer Do Again’s own shelves (most of them seemÂingÂly well-annoÂtatÂed), you’ll find a good deal of eviÂdence about what else interÂestÂed him. The Awl’s Maria BustilÂlos did a post on the surÂprisÂing variÂety of self-help books found thereÂin. OthÂer repÂreÂsentÂed types of books include:
Mass-marÂket thrillers like Thomas HarÂris’ The Silence of the Lambs, HanÂniÂbal and HanÂniÂbal RisÂing, and Stephen King’s CarÂrie
The novÂels of his peers like Rick Moody’s The DivinÂers, Richard PowÂers’ Gain, Galatea 2.2, and OperÂaÂtion WanÂderÂing Soul, Mark LeynÂer’s Et Tu, Babe and My Cousin, My GasÂtroenÂterolÂoÂgist, Jonathan Franzen’s Strong Motion, CorÂmac McCarthy’s Blood MeridÂiÂan and NicholÂson BakÂer’s Room TemÂperÂaÂture
Books he wrote about like Bryan GarÂner’s A DicÂtioÂnary of ModÂern AmerÂiÂcan Usage, Edwin Williamson’s Borges: A Life, John Updike’s Toward the End of Time
Books on his own worklike William C. DowlÂing’s A ReadÂer’s ComÂpanÂion to InfiÂnite Jest
Books on the midÂwest from which he came like A Place of Sense: Essays in Search of the MidÂwest
Books clearÂly used as research mateÂriÂals for his final, incomÂplete, IRS-cenÂtric novÂel The Pale Kinglike Michael J. GraetÂz’s The U.S. Income Tax: What It Is, How It Got That Way, and Where We Go from Here, William L. Raby’s The RelucÂtant TaxÂpayÂer, and MarÂty Kaplan’s What the IRS DoesÂn’t Want You to Know: A CPA Reveals the Tricks of the Trade
My own favorite novÂels like Joseph Heller’s SomeÂthing HapÂpened, Richard Yates’ RevÂoÂluÂtionÂary Road, and AlexanÂder TherÂoux’s DarÂconville’s Cat
Have a look, and maybe you too can find a few of your own curÂrent or future favorite books. We could all do worse, after all, than to read like David FosÂter WalÂlace did, even if it leads us to the occaÂsionÂal volÂume like MusÂcle: ConÂfesÂsions of an UnlikeÂly BodyÂbuilder; Barbed Wire: A PolitÂiÂcal HisÂtoÂry; or Jack B. NimÂble’s The ConÂstrucÂtion and OperÂaÂtion of ClanÂdesÂtine Drug LabÂoÂraÂtoÂries. And for a weekÂend activÂiÂty, we could do worse than comÂparÂing WalÂlace’s perÂsonÂal library to that of MarÂiÂlyn MonÂroe, which we feaÂtured last year.
One of the many pleaÂsures of hearÂing a children’s author readÂing his or her own work is their overÂwhelmÂing lack of vocal senÂtiÂment. When my chilÂdren were young, I always optÂed for the horse’s mouth, over the more histriÂonÂic charÂacÂterÂiÂzaÂtions of a hired narÂraÂtor, regardÂless of what sitÂcom or BroadÂway play he or she may have starred in. It might have takÂen author E.B. White 17 takes to lay down a track for Charlotte’s Web’s titÂuÂlar character’s death scene, but he evenÂtuÂalÂly achieved the healthy remove that lets the listener—not the reader—wallow in the valÂley of deep emoÂtions.
Neil Gaiman’s CoraÂline is not a weepie, like White’s best loved work. Instead, it revÂels in a sort of underÂstatÂed creepiÂness en route to the horÂrifÂiÂcalÂly bizarre. It’s a tone his felÂlow litÂerÂary celebs are blissÂfulÂly well equipped to delivÂer, readÂing chapÂters aloud in honÂor of the book’s 10th anniverÂsary. You can see them read all of the chapÂters here and also above and below.
Gaiman himÂself bookÂends the proÂceedÂings by claimÂing the first (above) and final chapÂter. Lucky that. One shudÂders to think of the myrÂiÂad ways in which a narÂraÂtor of cuteÂsiÂer senÂsiÂbilÂiÂties could have screwed up phrasÂes like “oomÂpah oomÂpah” and “squidy brown toadÂstools” (thus blightÂing the entire book).
I conÂceive of these readÂings as a mulÂtiÂple narÂraÂtor audioÂbook because the perÂformÂers are readÂing, rather than attemptÂing to act out the text in their hands, but realÂly it’s more of a video stoÂryÂtime. Gaiman is defÂiÂniteÂly on point in front of the camera—his large brown eyes, promiÂnent proÂboscis and stringy sterÂnÂocleiÂdoÂmasÂtoid musÂcles adding to the proÂceedÂings.
Stephen King’s 1977 psyÂchoÂlogÂiÂcal horÂror novÂel The ShinÂinghas inspired sevÂerÂal othÂer works, most notably StanÂley KubrickÂ’s 1980 film adapÂtaÂtion, a movie wideÂly conÂsidÂered to have eleÂvatÂed King’s stoÂry of the posÂsessed OverÂlook Hotel and its luckÂless winÂter careÂtakÂers, the TorÂrance famÂiÂly, to a highÂer artisÂtic plane. But King himÂself nevÂer realÂly approved of KubrickÂ’s interÂpreÂtaÂtion: “Parts of the film are chillÂing, charged with a relentÂlessÂly clausÂtroÂphoÂbic terÂror,” he said, “but othÂers fall flat. A visÂcerÂal skepÂtic such as Kubrick just couldÂn’t grasp the sheer inhuÂman evil of the OverÂlook Hotel.”
PreÂsumÂably King had a betÂter time playÂing the board game of The ShinÂing, which won the first Microgame Design ConÂtest in 1998, and about which you can read more at Board Game Geek. It has been said that King himÂself helped with the game’s develÂopÂment and offered his serÂvices as an earÂly play-tester, though some will conÂtest that. (See the claims in the comÂments secÂtion below.)
You can tell that the game’s faith lies with King’s novÂel rather than KubrickÂ’s film by its use of things that nevÂer made it from page to screen as gameÂplay eleÂments, such as the hotel grounds’ hedge-sculpÂture aniÂmals that come to vicious life.
You can play The ShinÂing board game as the TorÂrance famÂiÂly, in which case you’ll have to fight those hedge aniÂmals. Or you can play it as the OverÂlook Hotel itself, in which case you’ll conÂtrol them. Each playÂer has a host of impleÂments at their disÂposÂal — ghosts, decoys, the famous axe and snowÂmoÂbile — all meant to help them accomÂplish the task of driÂving the othÂer side away. Think of it as a simÂpliÂfied wargame set in a hauntÂed hotel.
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There’s someÂthing about Wes AnderÂson films that prompts peoÂple to get creÂative — to start creÂatÂing their own video essays and superÂcuts explorÂing themes in AnderÂsonÂ’s whimÂsiÂcal movies. You can find a list below.
The latÂest comes from LuĂs AzeveÂdo, founder of The A to Z Review. “BibÂlioÂphilÂia – Books in the Films of Wes AnderÂson” (above) tells this stoÂry:
In the work of Wes AnderÂson, books and art in genÂerÂal have a strong conÂnecÂtion with memÂoÂry. The RoyÂal TenenÂbaums (2001) begins with a homonyÂmous book, as does FanÂtasÂtic Mr. Fox (2009). The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) begins and ends with a book. MoonÂrise KingÂdom (2012) ends with a paintÂing of a place which no longer exists. These movies have a clear mesÂsage: books preÂserve stoÂries, for they exist withÂin them and live on through them.
For a detailed explaÂnaÂtion of the video, bibÂliÂogÂraÂphy, filÂmogÂraÂphy and more visÂit this page.
Not too long ago, an oldÂer relÂaÂtive tried to donate the Funk & WagÂnalls encyÂcloÂpeÂdia he’d owned since boyÂhood to a local charÂiÂty shop, but they refused to take it.
What an ignoÂminÂious end to an instiÂtuÂtion that had folÂlowed him for sevÂen decades and twice as many moves. Like many such weighty posÂsesÂsions, its proveÂnance was senÂtiÂmenÂtal, a gradÂuÂaÂtion gift I believe, bestowed all at once, rather than purÂchased pieceÂmeal from a travÂelÂing encyÂcloÂpeÂdia salesÂman.
By the time I came along, its funcÂtion had been reduced to the priÂmarÂiÂly decÂoÂraÂtive. Every now and then, he’d find some preÂtext to pull one of its many volÂumes from the shelf.
Did I know that TanÂzaÂnia was once called TanÂganyiÂka?
And ThaiÂland was once Siam!
The vinÂtage Funk & WagÂnalls’ many facts, maps, and illusÂtraÂtions were not the only aspects in need of an update. Its pre-Women’s Lib, pre-CivÂil Rights attiÂtudes were shockÂing to the point of camp. There was uninÂtenÂtionÂal comÂic gold in those pages. A colÂlage artist could’ve had a ball. WitÂness the sucÂcess of the EncyÂcloÂpeÂdia Show, an ongoÂing perÂforÂmance event in ChicaÂgo.
I carve landÂscapes out of books and I paint romanÂtic landÂscapes. MounÂtains of disÂused knowlÂedge return to what they realÂly are: mounÂtains. They erode a bit more and they become hills. Then they flatÂten and become fields where apparÂentÂly nothÂing is hapÂpenÂing. Piles of obsoÂlete encyÂcloÂpeÂdias return to that which does not need to say anyÂthing, that which simÂply IS. Fogs and clouds erase everyÂthing we know, everyÂthing we think we are.
On FriÂday, to help celÂeÂbrate DanÂte’s 750th birthÂday, ColÂin MarÂshall preÂsentÂed for you SamanÂtha CristoÂforeÂtÂti, Italy’s first female astroÂnaut, readÂing lines from The Divine ComÂeÂdy aboard the InterÂnaÂtionÂal Space StaÂtion. LitÂtle did we know that, just a few days latÂer, we could serve up a new video of CristoÂforeÂtÂti readÂing lines (this time in EngÂlish) from a much more modÂern text — DouÂglas Adams’ The HitchÂhikÂer’s Guide to the Galaxy(1979). The video was filmed as part of TowÂel Day, a celÂeÂbraÂtion held every May 25th, where fans across the uniÂverse carÂry a towÂel in Adams’ honÂour. Above you can see CristoÂforeÂtÂti, floatÂing upside down, doing just that, and readÂing the secÂtion of the book that touchÂes on towÂels, the “most masÂsiveÂly useÂful thing an interÂstelÂlar hitch hikÂer can have.”
When Paulo CoelÂho’s novÂel The Alchemistcame out in EngÂlish, the levÂel of popÂuÂlarÂiÂty it evenÂtuÂalÂly attained seriÂousÂly impressed me. Then I went to Latin AmerÂiÂca, where the SpanÂish verÂsion seemed to have won a vaster readÂerÂship still. I haven’t yet gone to Brazil to gauge the book’s popÂuÂlarÂiÂty on the streets of CoelÂho’s homeÂland since its first pubÂliÂcaÂtion to relÂaÂtiveÂly litÂtle interÂest, but it sureÂly hasÂn’t gone unknown there. As many fans as The Alchemist has, though, the inspiÂraÂtion-and-desÂtiny-inflectÂed appeal of the text entireÂly escapes some readÂers, in whichevÂer lanÂguage they read it. PerÂhaps they’d preÂfer an ediÂtion illusÂtratÂed by MĹ“bius?
Born Jean Giraud, MĹ“bius’ career guarÂanÂtees him a perÂmaÂnent place as one of the most influÂenÂtial comÂic artists ever to live. Even apart from the achieveÂments in the mediÂum in which he became famous — his foundÂing work on Heavy MetÂal, his creÂation of nonÂtraÂdiÂtionÂal westÂern outÂlaw BlueÂberÂry — he did a good deal of work that brought his sinÂguÂlarÂly imagÂiÂnaÂtive aesÂthetÂic into othÂer creÂative realms, such as conÂcept art from AleÂjanÂdro JodorÂowky’s Dune and illusÂtraÂtions for DanÂte’s ParÂadiso. In some sense, it might have seemed natÂurÂal for him to lend his hand to CoelÂho’s fanÂtaÂsy tale of an AndaluÂsian shepÂherd boy on a treaÂsure-huntÂing jourÂney to Egypt.
The IllusÂtratÂed Alchemist: A Fable About FolÂlowÂing Your Dreamcame out in 1998, and it includÂed 35 MĹ“bius illusÂtraÂtions, four of which you see here. The artist’s sigÂnaÂture style, which he usuÂalÂly used in the serÂvice of dark, comÂplex fusions of past and present, might at first sound ill-suitÂed for CoelÂho’s simÂple fable, but MĹ“bius adapts well to the mateÂrÂiÂal. Even if you put down the book unconÂvinced by CoelÂho’s arguÂments about folÂlowÂing your dream, you might conÂsidÂer lookÂing to MĹ“bius instead with our post on his tips for aspirÂing artists. Either way, The IllusÂtratÂed Alchemistitself showÂcasÂes a colÂlabÂoÂraÂtion between two well-known creÂators who most defÂiÂniteÂly paid their dues.
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