courtesy of a friend:
As a child I loved the series of "Fractured Fairy Tales," animated shorts narrated by Edward Everett Horton, which appeared as part of The Bullwinkle and Rocky Show in the 1960s. Generally they were twists on known classic fairy tales, but I recently happened upon one that takes on George MacDonald's two children's books, The Princess and the Goblin (1872) and The Princess and Curdie (1883). It's delightful, and surprising in the particular aspects of MacDonald's books that it keeps! Enjoy.
"No living American historian is as prolific as Blake Whiting. In one week alone last fall, he published 13 books on a host of complex archaeological and historical subjects . . ."
More AI theft. The full story is here: "Who Is Blake Whiting?"
"AI projects designed to pose as real researchers, set in motion by unethical humans, with the cooperation of a powerful corporation, are now capable of fooling even careful bibliophiles."
A few snippets:
Bibliomania, the only hobby which is also a mental health affliction. The person with piles of titles on their nightstand, in their closet, in the trunk of their car. Books in front of books on their bookshelf.
Those who agree with [Alberto] Manguel that “Unpacking books is a revelatory activity” are lonely without this crowd of paper bodies; they understand how the cover is a flesh, the binding a nervous system, the chapters as organs, sentences veins, and the words the very blood that circulates meaning.
Enjoy your e-reader all you want, but a soul without a body is just a ghost, apt to suddenly flicker out of existence.
Read the full article at Literary Hub.
I have been reading Joseph Epstein's essays (collected in many books) for over thirty years--not always with agreement, but always with interest and illumination. His new essay "There Are Too Many Overweight Biographies", in the September 2020 issue of Commentary, is a good example. Read it here. One small observation:
[There is] a new trend in publishing: accounts of the writing and publication of other books.
Strangely, I find myself currently engaged in just this sort of thing, in preparing my talk for Oxonmoot on "Humphrey Carpenter on Tolkien: Then and Now (Fifty Years Later)"
I found the below by accident, bouncing around the web, but the sentiment is perfectly good.
It reminds me of a book I read about 45 years ago: The Illusionless Man: Fantasies and Meditations on Disillusionment (1966) by Allen Wheelis. Wheelis (1915-2007) was a noted San Francisco psychotherapist who also wrote stories, essays and novels. Most are of a pessimistic cast, and have frequent epigrammatic delights ("One can often recognize herd animals by their tendency to carry bibles" p. 132).
The Illusionless Man is a collection of six items, four fantasies and two meditations. The one story that stayed with me the most is "The Signal" which concerns a man at a fortune cookie factory who starts writing original fortunes and becomes a notable success (while the recipe for the cookies remains unaltered). It seems like a good time for a re-read.
A new interview with me, on "Excavating the Inklings and Little-Known Authors," is online at the Fellowship & Fairydust site, here.