Monthly Archives: April 2004

Some nicely put remarks on Barnes & Noble

Over at TEV, the guest host this week Scott Handy posted some remarks from an email by Helen Sugrue on the marketing over at Barnes & Noble. She feels that not enough people are into taking risks in reading and they are not being encouraged to either at Barnes & Noble, who have a practice of putting up themed tables. Now, themed tables are not in of themselves evil. At my store, we have a display in the front of the store that changes every two weeks or so and the marketing department does decide what goes there. But for instance, the past two weeks we have featured books from the Hesperus Press, which I know was much discussed in the blogsphere several months ago. They publish lesser known works by major authors with forewords by famous people and beautiful covers to boot. Its a great idea and lots of the books sold. That’s a good marketing idea I think. But what Helen objects to (and I agree) are the more mass produced displays—tables with books that have pink and purple and yellow covers with a leg maybe wearing a spiky high-heel or something like that. Its chick-lit. I hate chick-lit personally. If you like reading it, then I am sorry to offend you, but as Helen says:

All these glossy covers are designed to attract women to read non-threatening, fluffy, Friday night with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s prose. A pox on you Candace Bushnell! I think she used her own well-manicured claws to open the lid on a Pandora’s box of profiteering publishing trolls who are spinning with glee at the potential profit to be had on those books which are little more than Vogue/ Lucky magazines in book form. I can just picture Candy B. and her well-heeled troupe of chick-lit hacks tipping back Cosmo’s and discussing the new hotness in the shallow end of the literature pool.)

Its the thought of an office somewhere with a group of people sitting around thinking stuff up that pisses me off. They don’t care what the book is about, they just want you to buy it. All the pastel colors are supposed to grab your attention and make you feel validated.
The chick-lit thing is an example. Its just that the marketing people are beginning to make me feel a bit crazy. Last night while watching television, the Crest Whitestrips commercial came on. My mother has been badgering me for a while about whitening my teeth. And all these commercials make me feel like I need it. But you know what? My teeth are fucking fine. They are not sparkly white and they never have been. Why should I spend $40 on tooth whitening strips? Because the Crest marketing team says so? That’s just silly. So should I be reading whatever crap Barnes & Noble lays out for you? I don’t know. If it appeals to you.
I suppose all I am really saying is that we should be thinking a bit more before buying stuff. Read the back of the book and maybe the first page or two before grabbing it off the table. I bet they have underestimated your intelligence though and you could find something a bit more challenging with just a few more minutes browsing in the fiction section. Okay, rant done.

Snuck one by y’all

One of these days I will figure out how to create a whole new web page devoted to books. But not today. I read a book this weekend that I did not link to on the left hand side. It was A Spectacle of Corruption by David Liss. I wanted to read something fairly easy, but not too dumbed down and this was perfect. A historical mystery, it delves into the world of 18th century Britain from the perspective of a ‘thief-taker’. One of Liss’ previous novels, A Conspiracy of Paper featured the same main character Benjamin Weaver, a Jewish outsider in London. In fact, the first book won an Edgar Award. In this book, you find Weaver just after he has been wrongly convicted of murder. He manages to escape and through his first person narrative, Weaver tells the tale of what exactly happened. The story itself was intriquing and the attention to detail pretty amazing. The characters too seemed true to life—no hookers with hearts of gold or any of that nonsense. The action hinges on the Parliamentary election of 1722 and the presence of Jacobites who support the return of James to the throne, two subjects about which I know very little. Liss really gives you an idea about what politics was like and how much your daily life depended on your station. The charm and evocation of the time make this a fascinating read.

800,000 people dead! C’mon people, let’s not forget.

Okay, I get it. Kurt Cobain was a great rocker. And he has been gone for 10 years this week. Big fucking deal. I liked Nirvana in high school, thought they were not bad. I even have grown to appreciate them in the past few years. But I don’t get the uproar over his suicide. Maybe its because I view suicide as the chump’s way out sometimes. I know that’s not necessarily true. I am sure the guy had his demons. Whatever. What pisses me off is that no one, at least in their 20s, seems to care that this week also commemorates 10 years since the genocide in Rwanda. What a horrible thing. Read about poor General Dallaire, the man who was forced to witness the entire thing.

The bodies were everywhere, strewn in fields and latrines and stacked in neat rows next to the road as if someone were keeping score. Countless times, Dallaire had to get out of his four-by-four and move remains from the middle of the road to avoid driving over them. Denied authority by the United Nations to intervene, Dallaire tried to broker a cease-fire, protect the innocent, prick the world’s conscience through the media. But his real mission, it came to pass, was personally far more devastating — to be a witness.

I just think its important that people remember what happened, so we cannot let it happen again. That’s a lot of people to die in 100 days. Too many people. And for no reason other than some man’s grand plan. The genocide was not inevitable. We could have stopped it, but no one did anything. Except General Dallaire. And he could do almost nothing. The world can be such a horrible place. I know people, especially American’s, tend to ignore happenings in other parts of the world. But we should pay attention lest it happen here one day.

Another movie to see

I have had these 3 movies from Netflix sitting on my bookcase for some time now. So on Monday, I decided to watch Talk to Her, which was directed and written by Pedro Almodovar. Wow. I am not even sure where to begin. It opens with two men, Benigno and Marco, in an audience watching a moving dance performance–a staging of Pina Bausch’s “Cafe Muller”. A modern dance piece, two women blindly stalking around the stage set of a cafe while two men move the tables and chairs out of their way. Marco cries silently and Benigno notices. You then meet Benigno, clad in nurses scrubs, recounting the evening as he lovingly administers to his patient Alicia. You can tell how much he cares about his patient by the fact that he got one of the dancers to sign a picture for her. He talks to her as if she could respond, though she has been in a coma for four years after being struck by a car. You also learn that Benigno took care of his ailing mother for twenty years previous to caring for Alicia. Marco becomes the lover of Lydia, the most famous women bullfighter in Spain at the time, when he witnesses her at her worst. He meets Benigno when she, having been violently gored by a bull, is placed in the same ward as Alicia. Benigno recognizes Marco as the crying man from the Bausch performance and the two establish a friendship. There is much more to the movie then this, but I would ruin it if I told more. Its not a plot driven movie. Rather, its an exploration of love and friendship and men and women, though not in some cheesy way. Benigno’s love for Alicia is entirely one-sided, but the gentleness of his touch and expression really speak volumes about how deeply he cares and seems to know her. Marco’s relationship with Lydia seems unclear at first, but through the brillant use of flashbacks, we see how they came into each other’s lives. Even though there is a slight plot twist, its the tenderness of each man and their affection for each other that really keeps the movie going.

sorry. more political ranting.

Sorry to do this to you, my gentle hearted reader, but I must speak out now. Everyone read Maureen Dowd’s editorial in the NYT today. Its a funny satire of what is going on with the 9/11 panel and the White House’s willingness to discuss the truth. I realize that the office of the president is something almost sacred in this country. I remember discussing this with my father once during the Bill Clinton years. He was no fan of Clinton and though not very conservative, he considers himself a Republican. But he thought attacking the president was wrong. Clinton may have been an cheater, but for my father, it was not the man, but the office he wanted to see protected. And I have thought about that a lot this week. I understand what he means. But I totally disagree. I think the president should be accountable for his actions. How dare Bush hide behind executive privilege. And Cheney too (does anyone else think he is just evil?) That man is accountable to me and everyone else. He should not forget that he works for us. He is too busy worrying about getting re-elected to tell us the truth. Just come clean for fucks sake. Maybe I would actually respect you a little then. Right now, I just think you are a horrible man. You put your own interests ahead of our country’s. And you expect me to pick up the bill. Giving breaks to all the rich, while the poor keep on getting poorer. Making our environmental policy a total joke. Creating your ‘Leave no Child’ behind policy and then cutting education funding. That’s just great. God, I can’t wait for the day when you are no longer our president. God help us if that day is longer than 9 months away. I can’t go on. He makes me so mad. I just want to kick something.