At least the Holiday Books
issue of the New York Times Book Review is a thick issue
-- at 72 pages, exactly three times as many pages as last week. Those who monitor the health of the book industry by the amount of ad space publishers buy in the Book Review will be reassured following a week of bad news
. Simon and Schuster bought a full page ad, and so did Scholastic (well, yeah),
Random House, Little Brown, Norton, University of California Press, Grand Central (double page, big spenders) and Thames and Hudson. Of course, all these deals were closed weeks or months ago, but it stiill feels good to see somebody spending money ... on something.
These end-of-year Christmas season full-page ads are just holiday tip envelopes to the Book Review anyway -- and one wonders why Knopf isn't doing any greasing
here, but that must take place elsewhere. It's hard to imagine that these aggregate ads (with taglines like "The Seasons Real Treasures" from Norton and "You're Going to Need a Bigger Stocking" from Grand Central) move many units, though the other full page ads scattered throughout the issue for self-publishers and "Better Sex" DVDs probably do. And why, you ask, am I reviewing the ads in this weekend's New York Times Book Review instead of the articles?
Well, I'm reviewing the ads instead of the articles because this is the dreaded annual Holiday Books issue, and I'm not going to sit here reviewing a bunch of articles about coffee-table books. This gift-wrappy issue is very light on literary content, though there is a Best 100 Books of the Year list that fails to include the best novel I read this year, Roxana Robinson's electrifying Cost
. Furthermore, with regard to Alan Light's People-magazine-level review of a picture book called The Clash
, I have to wonder how the New York Times can pay somebody for writing this:
... the Clash has become the lone punk representative in the classic rock canon.
Um. Sex Pistols. Ramones. Patti Smith. Talking Heads. The Police. Elvis Costello. Blondie. Anyway ... Kathryn Harrison is intriguing on Les Strandiford's The Man Who Invented Christmas: How Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol Rescued His Career and Revived Our Holiday Spirit
, and I really enjoyed Paul Collins' endpaper on the literary career of a highly creative sporting goods catalog author named George Leonard Herter. This is about as good as today's Holiday Issue of the Book Review gets.
* * * * *
I dropped by the Small Press and Indie Book Fair in midtown Manhattan today, and found a fairly swinging scene
. Indie publishers aren't really worrying about the book industry's retail crisis -- they're already lean and mean, and they often focus on dedicated sales channels. The fair continues tomorrow, climaxing in our trivia smackdown
at 4 pm, so please come on down to support the litblogging team if you can. The fair is free, and there's a lot to see.