GUILDENSTERN: It’s autumnal.
Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead
GUILDENSTERN: It’s autumnal.
When the light goes out, and the book is set down by the bedside, it all comes flooding in: the story you are reading; the story of the day; the understanding that it is a story, the day now past, those ahead, the clock-hand sweep of time; that you are the hero of your own story; that it will end in death but along the way come triumphs, misadventures, nuptials, tears; that the story contains several plots and connects to countless others; that you will never read all the books collected on your shelves but as long as you breathe the hero lives, pages will be turned; that stories keep us alive; that stories end—the tale of the drunken shoemaker, the tale of humankind—all stories, however beautiful, ingenious or corrupt; that fables are forgotten, myths corrode, gods vanish with the languages that named them; that darkness swallows the world, as in legend, but night in turn is vanquished by dawn; that even the sun, whose radiance authored life’s unpaginated complexity, will someday dwindle to extinction. Or so the story goes.
Examination at the Womb-Door
by Ted Hughes
Who owns those scrawny little feet? Death.
Who owns this bristly scorched-looking face? Death.
Who owns these still-working lungs? Death.
Who owns this utility coat of muscles? Death.
Who owns these unspeakable guts? Death.
Who owns these questionable brains? Death.
All this messy blood? Death.
These minimum-efficiency eyes? Death.
This wicked little tongue? Death.
This occasional wakefulness? Death.
Given, stolen, or held pending trial?
Held.
Who owns the whole rainy, stony earth? Death.
Who owns all of space? Death.
Who is stronger than hope? Death.
Who is stronger than the will? Death.
Stronger than love? Death.
Stronger than life? Death.
But who is stronger than Death?
Me, evidently.
Pass, Crow.
And, oh, my God, my God, pity me! He placed his reeking lips upon my throat! … How long this horrible thing lasted I know not; but it seemed that a long time must have passed before he took his foul, awful, sneering mouth away. I saw it drip with the fresh blood!
Here’s a very spooky read for Halloween. This rare edition features some creepy wood engravings by Swiss graphic and stained glass artist Felix Hoffmann (1911-1975) for the 1965 Limited Editions Club production of Bram Stoker’s (1847-1912) masterpiece Dracula, printed with 33 wood engravings, with eight in three colors, at the in a limited edition of 1500 copies.
“But sometimes illumination comes to our rescue at the very moment when all seems lost; we have knocked at every door and they open on nothing until, at last, we stumble unconsciously against the only one through which we can enter the kingdom we have sought in vain a hundred years – and it opens.”
― Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time
Over the years I have found myself doing minor repairs and restorations on books in my own collection and occasionally on books that I have sold. None of the projects compares to the amazing work of Japanese artisan and book hero Nobuo Okano.
I recently stumbled on a heartwarming video (below) of the craftsman as he revives a mangled, but precious old dictionary for a customer. In this challenging project: a 1,000-page English–Japanese dictionary, which had been used years ago by its owner, then passed down through time, picked up again in a moment of nostalgia, and finally given to Okano for restoration.
NB: If the video fails to open in your browser, please click on this link to our homepage to view the 10 minute film.
An unknown unpublished story by Jack Kerouac, which has been called “a lost chapter of the On the Road saga” has been discovered after being hidden in the files of an assassinated Mafia crime boss for at least 40 years.
The two-page typewritten manuscript signed by Kerouac in green ink is titled The Holy, Beat, and Crazy Next Thing and is dated April 15, 1957, five months before his classic of beat literature, On the Road, was published.
The manuscript was found last year during a review of items owned by Paul Castellano, who ran the feared Gambino crime family in New York from 1976 until he was murdered on December 16, 1985.
In Aarhus, Denmark, the main public library in the city frequently resonates with the sound of a giant tubular bell called Gongen. The bell rings multiple times a day for a heartwarming reason. Atlas Obscura explains that the ringing of the bell signifies that a child has been born at the hospital in town. Parents of newborns have the option to ring the bell, only if they want to, and they do it by pressing a button at the hospital (and triggering the bell).
Gongen was designed by an artist named Kirstine Roepstorff. It was engraved with a sun and infinity design to represent a new life. The video below features the bell ringing for a happy event. Although it’s loud, the soothing and peaceful ring makes this library a unique space.
NB: If the video fails to load in your wonky browser, please click here.
During a recent trip to Japan I was pleasantly surprised by many things. As a coffee geek, I was happy to discover that vending machine canned coffee is actually good throughout the country. But what I didn’t expect to find is that the great American actor Tommy Lee Jones is the face of canned coffee products and a cultural icon.
Jones has been the public face of BOSS coffee since 2006. The company’s entertaining and hugely successful ad campaigns feature Jones as an alien who has come to Earth in disguise to study humanity. Jones has posed as everything from a high school teacher to a fisherman in the wacky ads.
The many BOSS ads featuring Jones has made the actor a pop icon. In fact, he is more famous for his coffee commercials than his blockbuster films.
Take a look at the hilarious compilation video below to get a sense of just how funny the ad campaigns can be: