BookLust

Larkin on a Lark

Over at Beatrice the British poet Philip Larkin has been discussed in a couple of recent posts. Apparently some folk think Larkin was brilliant, and some ....beg to differ. I must confess that I didn't know very much about Larkin until a few weeks ago when I saw a movie based on his life on TVO. Larkin was a misanthropic librarian who had a penchant for pornography and a rapacious sexual appetite, inspite of his rather nerdy appearance and his insistance that he was a pathetic loner. His poems are pretty melancholic (not unlike Hardy, whom I also enjoy) but also witty and caustic.

So based on that show (hey, any male librarian who has a dark kinky side gets my attention), I purchased a collection of his poems, published by The Marvel Press and faber and faber, and edited by Anthony Thwaite. One poem in particular caught my eye, entitled "This Be the Verse":

They fuck you up, your mum and dad,
They may not mean to but they do
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old style hats and coats
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can
And don't have any kids yourself.

Heh. Librarians are so smart.

Re-Covered

And yet another semi-regular feature that I would like to add to this ecclectic stew. Pretty self-explanatory, I think. But I'll explanatory-it anyway. I take an existing book cover and re-design it. Sometimes the original cover is really bad in my opinion, and sometimes it's amazing. Either way, I re-design it; trying to perhaps improve a stinky design, or just try a different perspective on an already outstanding design.

So why have I thrown all caution to the wind and chosen to post a re-design one of the best covers ever by one of the best book designers ever? (That would be Mr. Chip Kidd).

Because I have had way too much red wine.

I welcome any kind of comments including the "who the hell do you think you are" variety.

I'll just say: hell. i'm a silly sloshed gal who should stay away from the computer, that's who.

Would You Like Some Titties With That?

Yeah, I know. Yesterday penises, today titties. The gal has issues. But this is important. Am I the only one who is offended by those new McDonald's TV ads for their salads? Am I overreacting?

For those not in the know, these new ads show various film clips of women holding bowls of salads right under their cans. The camera deliberately cuts off the women's heads, so you don't see a face; all you see is some hip slogan that is printed on their t-shirt, the salad, and of course, their yummy titties. You don't actually see a woman's face until the last woman shown on the screen. Now I know that the argument is made that the camera is focusing on the cool hip slogans on the women's shirts, and that they are trying to appeal to the younger generation, but pullleeaaaase. Like we're not gonna notice the woman's hooters? Like that was just a lucky coincidence for McDonald's? Never mind that it is also a very lame-ass rip-off of a much better, much more intelligent campaign from these guys, (click on the Have a Heart campaign) it's also just so very, very sad that the ad execs decided that it would take way too much effort to figure out how to convince the public to buy salads from a fast-food chain that is synonymous with heart disease and obesity.

Every lazy ad exec's credo: When all else fails, slap some titties on it.

Seen at a Bookstore 2

Small sign inside a bookstore downtown.

So there ya go, fellahs. Put.Down.That.Remote. NOW.

Biblioporn

I have a confession to make. Sometimes, when the urge is just too irrestistible, I like to ...gulp... take pictures of books. I know it's wrong, it's dirty, but the desire just overtakes me, and I have to do it. Sometimes I even get my husband involved. He doesn't really want to do it, but I get excited seeing him hold them in his hands. Oh god, I'm a sick woman. But at least I know I'm not alone.

Sexy Rex

Yeah, yeah. I know what you're thinking. Rex Murphy sexy? Is the gal on crack? But just hear me out, ok?

Too often in our lives us gals have been attracted to a man just 'cuz he's got a nice smile and strong chin. But can you engage in a stimulating debate with that strong chin? Will that nice smile delight you with words steeped in rapier wit and a vocabulary so rich and diverse that it makes you weak in the knees? I think not. Well then, consider this roguish Canadian journalist of CBC's Cross Country Checkup. Take a good look at his face, and see what he has to offer:

A massive cranium: The better to store all that knowledge, my dear. Chock-full of original thought, practically bursting at the seams. He studied law at Oxford as a Rhodes scholar, loves the classics, tries to spend at least 6 hours a day reading, and frequents the bookstores in Toronto (I saw him once at Nicholas Hoare Books; it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself).

Over-sized ears: The better to hear with, my dear. Obviously spends a lot of time listening very carefully to what is said.

Big, glaring eyeballs: Gives him the ability to see things for what they really are. Can spot a smokescreen a mile away. Don't bother trying to pull the wool over these eyes, baby.

Bulbous nose: Can smell a really good story. Also comes in handy for sniffing out bullshit.

Small, thin mouth: Incapable of being a blowhard. With such a small trap, only speaks when absolutely necessary, and what comes out is pure gold.

So there you have it. The perfect man. Rex Murphy: Sexy Beast.

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a ...Typographer?

That's right. Typographers. Those unsung heroes who doggedly obsess over x-heights, and vertical stresses and inclined serifs so we don't have to. Before I studied graphic design, I never thought much about the origin of the fonts I used on my computer. I had no idea that Gill Sans got it's name from the typographer Eric Gill, or that Nicholas Jenson, the creator of Roman Type was possibly sent to Mainz, Germany as a spy by King Charles VII to learn about the new art of printing.

On Friday night I went to The Arts and Letters Club to hear an interesting talk about typography, sponsored by The Toronto Type Club. An ecclectic collection of mostly guys (and why is that, I wonder?) who are passionate about type and printing and books. If you're interested in type at all, and want to meet some of the guys who help to make reading a joy, then come on out to any of the future talks that The Toronto Type Club will be holding. I believe new talks will be starting up again in September. And after each event, some of the type folk gather at a nearby pub to talk more type and enjoy a pint or two or more. Alphabets and alchohol. My kind of night.

Strippin' for my Guy

This post is a homage of sorts to my husband, Guy. Such a nice fellow. A hard working library technician; a passionate bibliophile like myself; an introverted political activitst. I find him so fascinating, in fact, that I put him in one of my recent comic strips which I sent off for possible syndication. (Alas, all rejected, but with some positive feedback). His cartoon character is much thinner that his real self, but then again, so am I. Ahh... the beauty of cartoons.

An example of his passion. When Ralph Nader told the world he was running for president again, I was incensed. Said some nasty things about that nerdy guy. That in turn, incensed my Guy. Instead of just sulking or griping, he wrote a 4,000 word essay for me, (and all the Nader-haters out there) on all the good things that Ralphie-boy has done so far in his life (for example, like making it a law that we all have seatbelts in our cars). I learned some new stuff about Ralph, and about Guy.

Yesterday, Guy took my recently published little counting book "Fifty Little Penguins" and used it as part of his children's program that he does for his library branch where he works. How sweet is that. Yup. I picked the right Guy.

Seen at a Bookstore

This will hopefully be another semi-regular feature. Have we not all seen some fascinating creatures wander into our favourite bookstore haunts? Books are the mystical magnet that draws in the unique, the eccentric and the just plain bizarre. So every now and then I will share some of what I see. This is not an original concept; I was inspired by the very talented illustrator Jorge Colombo, and his New York dailies.

I have seen this woman in black a couple of times downtown. It's hard to draw from memory; I hope I have done her justice. Both times she was checking out the books in the marked-down section. Hope she got some good deals.

Rejection Selection

Ever wonder what rejection letters for cartoonists look like? Well now ya know.

Ever wonder what a rejected cartoonist looks like? You don't wanna know.