Don't fuck it up, Jonze and Eggers

Where the Wild Things Are is the first book I remember reading on my own, the first book I got obsessed about. I would pester Miss Paine to have me read it aloud during show and tell to our first grade class almost daily (I also have a clear memory of on Columbus Day unashamedly singing an a cappella version of 1492 to the whole class at my own insistence - I've changed a bit since then).

Last time I was back at my parent's house, I was rummaging around in the basement and in a dusty box of my old things had a discovery that made a catch in the throat, a tear come to my eye: my old hardcover copy of the book, now about 40 years old, still with the bite marks when Sligo, our beloved Saint Bernard/Lab mix, got a hold of it, and the chip in the corner from when I bashed it over my sister's head (literature does have its practical uses).

So I was delighted to hear a while ago that Spike Jonze and Dave Eggers were teaming up for a movie version. But I was appalled at the rough cut trailer they released at the beginning of the year. It looked rubbish. But I think I was a bit premature; the new trailer looks brilliant and I am more than a bit excited about Eggers' novelisation, particularly the fur-covered edition. Yes, you read that right.

Salinger and doughnut holes

So, JD Salinger wins round one in his fight to stop "John David California" from publishing the unauthorised sequel to The Catcher in the Rye. I've not read the book, a friend has, but mining someone else's characters seems the laziest sort of writing. Still, it is an interesting legal question of how much you can use a character without authorisation, and how much of that character you can copyright.

But once again, I am struck by how much being a a recluse seems to grip the public's imagination, if only because it seems counter to the prevailing mood that fame is life's most desirable goal - and how journalists in particular obsess about this. I remember an Esquire article ages ago when the writer traveled to Salinger's home in the tiny town of Cornish, New Hampshire in order to try to run him to ground. I can't remember the writer's name and it isn't on their website, but I was able to track this illustration from the article down on a Salinger fan-site. The Esquire man eventually sees Salinger in a coffee shop, eating some doughnut holes. The piece was illustrated with this pic and for some reason it has haunted me. He's just a poor old man who wants to be left alone to enjoy a few doughnut holes. Leave him alone, already.

By the way, The Onion has the best take on the whole Salinger/California thing.

The Sherminator

My man Sherman Alexie (Expat's Files passim) has taken a chunk out of the Kindle, calling it elitist at this year's BEA (for those not in the book business, that's Book Expo America, not some organisation dedicated to the memory of my personal favourite Golden Girl Bea Arthur). Like anything that mentions the book trade's 500-pound gorilla Amazon, this has set the blogosphere alight. There is a good interview with Alexie on Edward Champion's blog where he clarifies his remarks.

I don't agree with all he says, but his central point that a device that costs $249 is exclusionary is spot-on. As a kid who grew up dirt poor on the reservation, I think Alexie could probably relate to the technology gap. There is a constant chatter about how wonderful the digital age is for the book industry. But it this mostly propelled by the self-perpetuating onanism of the blogosphere: because it is new, because it is fresh, and because I am writing about it, it must be on everyone's minds.

But the connected seem to forget how many are not connected. Between 60-70% of British people use the internet at home (reports vary). That is a lot of people, but that means least 18 million or so that don't, and most of them are obviously from poor backgrounds. The internet in and of itself is, if not elitist, exclusionary.

Another point that Alexie makes is the lack of emotional connection with an e-reader. I love my iPhone, and have tried reading e-books on it. But there is something that is just not right about it, something that makes me not engage with the text as I do a print book. Over the weekend I was reading a tiny, battered copy of Sentimental Journey that I purchased from Oxfam, which someone named James had given to Susan for her birthday in 1953 according to the inscription in the inside cover. When I put it down, I was able to keep my place with a bookmark a friend had made me for Christmas. The emotional connection is not just about the text.

This doesn't make me a Luddite. The digital age is a visual age and it just doesn't suit a black and white only e-book reader. I have read, and enjoyed, a number of graphic novels on the iPhone. And I do see a future for an enhanced e-book with music and moving images that will be seen and addition to the book.