The Los Angeles Review of Books has come into existence, with an opening salvo from Awl pal Ben Ehrenreich, with a very recent history of the death of the book, a proposition regarding which you can imagine both author and publication are "con." It's a bit more philosophical than might readily be embraced elsewhere on the Internet, addressing as it does "bibilionecrophilia: the retreat of the print-faithful into a sort of autistic fetishization of the book-as-object—as if Jeff Bezos could be convinced to lay e-profits aside by recalling for a moment the soft, woody aroma of a yellow-paged Grove Press paperback; as if there were nothing more to books than paper, ink, and glue" instead of, you know, the ways that publishing is changing right now and how people can make money off of it instead of just throwing their books off a cliff, but we'll take it. Also it has a masthead of 16 people! There appear to be two poetry editors! Anyway, bookmark it, follow it on Tumblr, print it out, etc.
Monday, April 18th, 2011
Samantha Henig » Eight Voicemails from My Grandmother, Who Is Very Upset About the Apparent Death of My Career