Love this! The Malcolm Gladwell Book Generator, via the resident economist.
Books for Looking
I stopped into Partners & Spade yesterday and had a little chuckle over Andy Spade‘s wall installation of framed clothbound books, which if I recall correctly, was titled something along the lines of “An Argument for Looking at Books Not Reading Them.” Cheeky and so wonderfully in touch with the current book-fetishizing zeitgeist! I noticed the other day while browsing an Anthropologie store that those gorgeous clothbound Penguins designed by Coralie Bickford-Smith which I’ve been coveting for ages had made their way across the pond and were now available outside of the UK. It’s admittedly a tad depressing to see editions of Dickens and Hardy scattered between cashmere twin-sets and shabby chic hand towels at an Anthro store, as it pretty much confirms the crossover of the book from vessel for content to object for display. The vast majority of these books will presumably live out their lives on a whimsically curated antique shelf, their glued spines never to be cracked. However, given the current state of the book industry, I have to applaud any and all attempts to revive interest in literature even if the tactics used are entirely aesthetic.
As further evidence of the fetishizing of books, take a look at these amazing Book Lights by Design Studio MS in the UK. Sadly they are currently only available with UK voltage plugs but I suppose I can always buy a converter. I want, I want!
Continuing on this train of thought, the lovely photographs of book spines by Mickey Smith also come to mind, as well as the series of bookshelf illustrations by Jane Mount — both available on Jen Bekman’s 20×200. Don’t have a bookshelf in your apartment? Just put up some pictures of books and presto! Nah, I’m just kidding. Like Andy Spade’s collection of framed books, presumably this kind of book-inspired art appeals most to people who actually do read quite a bit.
To blather on even further, I was at a charity benefit the other day where limited edition art books were being auctioned off for thousands of dollars. At those kind of prices they’re obviously more investment vehicle than actual thing to be enjoyed (imagine spilling coffee on your $4000 book!), but it really spelled out for me the reality that in the world of books, content has largely become divorced from the object. Kraken Opus, which recently released a Michael Jackson Opus for a relatively cheap $250, quite literally describes their limited edition books as an alternative investment that helps to “diversify your wealth.” I’m sure that while among these buyers of $4000+ limited edition books on everything from Arsenal to Prince will be die-hard fans who just want to own it no matter what, I suspect the majority of Opus’ customers never even break open the wooden crate it comes in and send it straight to their vaults to appreciate in value alongside their Château Margaux. The only time I ever saw an Opus book was under a glass case at Heathrow and that particular edition (Super Bowl XL) weighed a whopping 80 lbs. It takes “coffee table book” to a whole new level. You probably need to be in the NFL yourself to actually turn the page so it certainly is not a book meant for reading. So then what of the mundane task of reading? We have the Kindle and Nook for that!
Cover Up!
Swoon! These paper bag book jackets by Book City Jackets in Williamsburg are so beautiful and nostalgia-inducing! Love at first sight! Emma Gaines-Ross and Jeremy Schwartz founded Book City Jackets in 2008 and they have so far released two “artist-editions” featuring the illustrations of Eveline Tarunadjaja, Matthew Caputo, and Morgan Blair in the first edition, and Nishat Akhtar, Cheeming Boey and Michael C. Hsiung in the second. It’s great cus I’ve often wondered out loud why the Japanese ritual of wrapping books never really made it over here outside of public school requirements. Hope to start seeing beautifully covered up books on the subway now, just like in Tokyo!
Book City Jackets will be at the Brooklyn Flea’s Gifted holiday market which opens November 27 at their very first Manhattan location on E. 4th and Lafayette. Should be chock-full of lovely stuff as usual!
The Invisible Library
A fortuitously timed Facebook posting by author Ed Park just as I was getting ready to fly out to London a couple of weeks ago alerted me to a wonderful little exhibit called The Invisible Library. I had no idea that in addition to writing hilarious novels, editing, teaching and being a good daddy, Ed had been busy cataloging phantom books that don’t really exist but are alluded to in works of fiction. Turns out 40 of these ‘hidden novels’ were chosen by art collective INK to have their covers illustrated and displayed as part of a ‘library’ that invited visitors to write whatever they want between the pages.
The Invisible Library was cleverly tucked away in Cecil Court, an appropriately charming street near London’s Leicester Square that is lined with old book shops (or shall I say shoppes?). One Chinese visitor had scrawled a page-full in the book Who is This God Person, Anyway? by Oolon Colluphid, a book alluded to in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, itself a book named after a book that doesn’t really exist. I wish I could tell you what this person had written, but I don’t read Chinese. I imagine it was enlightening.
The Invisible Library will close shop(pe) on July 12, so if you happen to be in London, you know where to go this weekend to unleash your creative juices.
I’ll have the Foie Gras, hold the Cheetos
Props to the lovely Julia Cheiffetz of HarperStudio for a great interview in this month’s Fast Company. Cheiffetz talks about the various things her imprint is doing as part of an R&D strategy to adapt to the manifold changes in book publishing. Whether it’s giving Flip cams to authors to videoblog their upcoming titles or experimenting with dynamic e-books, HarperStudio is certainly trying to do more than just tread water. I’m also glad to hear Cheiffetz acknowledge that not all marketing experiments are appropriate for every subject. “With each project, we think about what kind of experimentation is appropriate. We don’t want to sprinkle Cheetos on top of foie gras.” Couldn’t have said it any better! Check out HarperStudio’s blog here.
Japan <3 Cell Phones
I recommend listening to this great report on Japan’s love affair with cell phones by NPR’s On The Media. I was especially glad to hear DeNA’s Satoshi Tanaka point out that the Japanese cell-phone experience evolved from an entirely different context to that of the U.S. While personal computers and Internet access took root prior to advanced mobile technology in the U.S., many Japanese to this day do not own their own computers or even know how to surf the web on anything other than a cell phone. As Mark Phillips summarized:
This has produced two different trajectories for cell phone evolution. In the U.S. we’ve been upgrading our cell phones with the hope of recreating the Internet experience we’ve had for years on the computer. In Japan, since the cell phone has traditionally been the gateway to the Internet, the evolution has instead been in the incremental improvement of the cell phone network and hardware.
It’s important to keep in mind when thinking about Japanese cell phone culture that it’s not like pushing the fast-forward button on the way we currently use our cell phones here. In fact, while it’s tempting to look at all the amazing things it’s possible to do via mobile in Japan and simply declare it a more technologically advanced society, that’s not necessarily the case. In a May 2007 issue of the Japanese magazine AERA, there was a feature article called “The Invisible Wall of the Digital Poor,” which referred to the growing group of young Japanese who had no computer skills and used only cell phones. They were called the “Digital Poor” because their lack of basic computer skills made them difficult to employ. While they may be able to pay for cabs using their cell phones, they are not able to compete as workers in the global marketplace.
There’s been lots written about Japan and its cell phones in recent months, like the New Yorker article by Dana Goodyear on cell-phone novels or keitai shosetsu, which shed light on the successful crossover of melodramatic romance novels from mobile to hardcover. While it’s always very exciting to see new forms emerging from the intersection of technology and culture, I have to say (and I know I sound like a curmudgeonly old man when I do so) that the intensity of cell-phone reliance in Japan is pretty scary and feels symptomatic of a deeper social decay.
It’s not just the eerie silence of being on a subway car filled with people staring at phones. (I admit I fall into doing exactly the same when I’m in Tokyo, and even concede that I prefer text over talking on the phone.) It’s also the worrisome fact that a significant number of Japanese can no longer write in proper kanji without the aid of conversion software. Unlike in English, where the alphabet is essentially all you need to know as a foundation for literacy, the Japanese language requires the ability to read and write thousands of characters for adult proficiency. One may say these cell-phone novels are just a form of “evolution” in Japanese arts and letters, but it’s frankly quite terrifying to think that we may not be that far off from a future in which Japanese literature is reduced to the large-font drivel of anybody with a phone who can type away with an audience-friendly vocabulary of a ten year-old. Perhaps it’s just the lit major in me that thinks 2 million copies of a REALLY BAD BOOK sold, no matter how ‘cutting edge’ its origin, is really just a sign of cultural devolution.
Smart Incentives
A good friend of mine once told me he wished there was a system in which he could invest in actors before they became well-known celebrities because he could’ve retired by now from investing in Jessica Alba.
According to him, he’d seen her as a kid in a minor role in some random tv show and knew instinctively that she had that special something that would rocket her to eventual stardom. If only he could have bought some Alba stock! I used to work in casting back in the day so I’m more than familiar with the idea of talent excavation and how potentially rewarding it could be. A lot of people and their oftentimes unrewarded efforts go into the making of a star. Everything depends on how many people believe in you, and how committed they are to promoting you.
This is why crowdsourcing investment feels a lot like just a natural extension of how the world already operates. SellaBand has been rocking this for a number of years now, combining the benefits of a MySpace-like fan-network with an investment model that allows musicians to raise money by offering shares of future revenues to their most dedicated followers. It translates the heat generated by a passionate fanboy into dollars and cents to form a mutually beneficial relationship. And then out of last week’s TED conference came Trust Art, a site that similarly asks people to invest in public art projects in exchange for a piece of the pie. From their Manifesto:
Investors will take a share in one or many Trust Art projects, while also spreading word of Trust Art in their social circle. At the end of the year, each art piece is auctioned, and investors split the proceeds with the artist. Inevitably, art will be created that otherwise wouldn’t exist, you will feel good, and culture will have been renewed.
We already go about sharing links and yapping away about the people and projects we admire, so how great is it to now have an added incentive to perform all that publicity? And while it may not be the same as buying a share in the future career of a hot young thing (my friend can go invest in an up-and-coming model at BeautyHolding.com if he must!), think of all the people you can impress at your next cocktail party by saying you’re invested in a documentary starring everyone in the world. It would be great if existing crowdsourcing sites like authonomy.com, which turns to crowds to weed out their next best-sellers, began incentivizing people with profit-sharing models as well. There’s nothing like a committed and invested fan to push you into the big leagues. “I’d like to thank all my fans,” as they say.
Unkillable Print
It seems you can’t surf the web these days without coming across an article warning about the imminent death of newspapers. Come to think of it, you can’t browse a magazine or a newspaper without someone reminding you in print that what you are reading may be the last printed thing you ever come across. According to some death-watchers, it’s not entirely unimaginable for even the grand daddy of newsprint, The New York Times, to go toe-up as early as May–yes, as in, four months from now.
So it’s of course tickling as hell to see a techie entrepreneur bring everything full circle by creating a printed newspaper composed entirely of blog entries. According to The New York Times, which actually pays people to write obituaries about itself, a start-up pub called The Printed Blog hopes to be leaving ink smudges on the fingertips of blogophiles across the country with its free, ad-funded, user-generated content. The idea is that each edition will be hyper-localized and funded by local advertisers, with content being provided for free by willing bloggers who are eager to see their online musings in the form of ink on paper. That’s right, folks! Print’s still doing a-okay when it comes to prestige factor in the minds of most writers. Perhaps monitoring blog stats just doesn’t measure up to spotting someone reading a piece of paper with your name on it at the local cafe?
Given that there is no paid reporting, don’t expect your local issue of The Printed Blog to be breaking news on the next Darfur. As is still the case today, bloggers will continue to rely on paid (and trained) investigative journalists to dig up the really important stories that they can then blog about. That said, since the newspapers can’t seem to come up with a sustainable model for their rapidly decaying enterprise, it’s nice to see a total outsider give it a go. At the very least it should provide a nice alternative to going blind in front of your laptop.
The first edition comes out on January 27 in Chicago and San Francisco. We’re sure all the doomsday Twitterers will be watching what happens with bated breath!
SUITE 2046 