August 4, 2014
Monday Melvilles
by Alex Shephard
This August, as we prepare to unleash a truly remarkable fall catalog, MobyLives will be taking a bit of a breather. We’ll still post the occasional news item or feature, but for most of this month we’ll be posting a roundup like this every morning. We will, of course, remain active on Twitter and Facebook. We hope you have a great August, and that you’ll keep checking in with us!
- Last week in U.S. v. Apple, the trial that never ends: Judge Denis Cote has granted preliminary approval to a deal that would settle damages in the case. That deal, in which Apple would pay $400 million in damages, should be in place by Thanksgiving, but it doesn’t really matter (lol nothing does). It’s contingent on the result of Apple’s appeal, and you better believe Apple’s going to appeal. (Publishers Weekly)
- David Cameron “has refused to meet with campaigners and authors seeking to overturn a ban on prisoners being allowed to receive books from friends and family,” according to The Bookseller. Cameron said that prisoners could use their own money to buy books, which suggests that David Cameron does not understand how libraries work. Frances Crook, chief executive of the Howard League for Penal Reform, described the letter as “disappointingly vanilla,” which is not at all surprising, considering that David Cameron is a depressingly vanilla man who has always reminded me of a smarmier Piers Morgan. (The Bookseller)
- Howard the Duck, Marvel‘s greatest creation (Fuck you, Wolverine. You know what? Fuck you too, Iron Man, you slick bastard.), may be getting his own film. Chris Wade assesses the evidence. (Slate)
- Here’s a playlist of every jazz song mentioned in Haruki Murakami‘s books. Haruki Murakami is apparently not a fan of jazz made after 1957 (aka “good jazz”), so this very much has the feel of a “mid-period Woody Allen film” or a “current-period episode of Louie.” So, you know, check it out, if you’re into that kind of thing. It’s totally fine to be into that kind of thing. That fedora looks great on you, by the way. (Open Culture)
- After seeing King Lear, Ira Glass tweeted that Shakespeare isn’t “relatable.” (“You know, I was thinking the other day: Shakespeare really sucks. When you think of Shakespeare, you think of big pants and long speeches. You don’t think ‘This person is like me.” You don’t think, ‘I really see what’s at stake for King Lear. He only loses his kingdom and his family.'”) At The New Yorker, Rebecca Mead discusses why relatability is a “scourge” and why we shouldn’t expect literature to be a “mirror in which [we] might recognize [ourselves.].. The notion of relatability implies that the work in question serves like a selfie: a flattering confirmation of an individual’s solipsism.” In other words, literature isn’t This American Life. (The New Yorker)
- Speaking of, The Guardian has a useful, if severely truncated, history of Shakespeare-bashing. George Bernard Shaw delivers the sickest of these not particularly sick burns: “It would be positively a relief to me to dig him up and throw stones at him.” People love throwing pennies at the Titanic, apparently. (The Guardian)
- Farhad Manjoo asks why Amazon should get to enforce ebook prices. He takes Amazon‘s statement about what it wants from Hachette at face-value (he shouldn’t) but it gets at a number of the problems with Amazon’s statement cleanly and efficiently: “$9.99 might work fine some of the time, but no price is perfect for everyone, always.” (The New York Times)
- The Guardian profiles Roxane Gay. “For Gay, writing is a way ‘to think through what it means to be in this world. I definitely write to reach other people, but I write for myself first. I don’t mean that in an arrogant way. It’s just that this is me trying to make sense of my place, and how did I get here, and why am I so lucky in some ways, and so unlucky in others? So it starts with me, and then I move beyond the self, as much as I can.'” (The Guardian)
Today’s passage from Moby-Dick:
Like a savage tigress that tossing in the jungle overlays her own cubs, so the sea dashes even the mightiest whales against the rocks, and leaves them there side by side with the split wrecks of ships. No mercy, no power but its own controls it. Panting and snorting like a mad battle steed that has lost its rider, the masterless ocean overruns the globe. Consider the subtleness of the sea; how its most dreaded creatures glide under water, unapparent for the most part, and treacherously hidden beneath the loveliest tints of azure. Consider also the devilish brilliance and beauty of many of its most remorseless tribes, as the dainty embellished shape of many species of sharks. Consider, once more, the universal cannibalism of the sea; all whose creatures prey upon each other, carrying on eternal war since the world began. Consider all this; and then turn to this green, gentle, and most docile earth; consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself? For as this appalling ocean surrounds the verdant land, so in the soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but encompassed by all the horrors of the half known life.–Chapter 58
Today’s Melville House book: The Sea Inside by Philip Hoare
A song for Monday: “The Ocean” (demo) by The Velvet Underground
Alex Shephard is the director of digital media for Melville House, and a former bookseller.