no thoughtless post-structuralists here
Terri’s sister gave us each a subscription to a magazine of our choice last year, and I chose The London Review of Books. I figured, hey, books and an international perspective sounds good. Every month or so, I get a large tabloid-sized magazine chock-full of super-smart essays about books. As a graphic designer, I know that a “wall of text” is the kiss of death for most people… but I absolutely LOVE opening this magazine and seeing nothing but gigantic blocks of text. No pictures (maybe a small illustration or a poem inserted here and there), no photos, very few ads… just intelligent discussions about books which are usually way out of my usual comfort zone. I used to try to read every article in the Review, but quickly realized I am just not that intellectual; now I just skim through and read the interesting ones, get the gist of the others, and read the ads.
The ads in the back are fantastic. I sort of want to get The New York Review of Books next year just because I think I’d be more familiar with the books and writers, but I would miss these fantastic ads:
“Man seeks woman to read The Hobbit with. Humans and Elves only; no Goblins.”
“There’s usually an atmosphere of dread when I show up at a party. Not so the next one, when you accompany me as both my groom to be and my designated driver. Easily drunk, garrulous F, 41, prone to molesting the teenage sons of suburban dinner party hosts and crying over the petit fours. WLTM sober expert in public apology, to age 50.”
Reading The Lace Reader for book club. It’s pretty good but a little bit odd. However, kind of suits my mood. I could use a week by the lake with a pile of books. And a big stack of Reviews to chuckle over.