And Seventy Cents: Hunting for Books, Fit the Third.

I spent $234 on books at Pulp Fiction today, and I feel a little drunk.

Or perhaps giddy is the word I'm looking for.  Because, really, when does anyone spend two hundred bucks on books?  On USED books?  Okay, mostly used, Pulp Fiction leavens its used books with new ones, and a couple of my selections were new rather than used, but still, two hundred and thirty four dollars worth of books?  How did this happen?  How did we get here?

(Needle scratch.)

On paper, this was supposed to be a bit of a vacation weekend for both Karli and I.  She was headed over to Vancouver Island with her sister Stefanie to visit her mother and stepfather, and I had booked the Friday off with the intention of having a bit of an old school long weekend:  sleep in, watch episodes of Doctor Who and Picard, play computer games, do a little book shopping, eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches, and otherwise have a bit of a geek holiday.*

However, life had other plans, as it so often does. I was apologetically called back into work on the Friday to help with COVID-19 related handouts and signage, which resulted in a couple of hours of overtime, and was then informed that I'd be back in on Saturday as soon as the executive group had finalized additional content.

I still had hopes of salvaging at least a bit of my weekend plan, so on Saturday morning I decided to take the current replacement list from my New Year's Resolution book logging project, head over to Pulp Fiction's Main Street location (fortuitously located somewhat close to my workplace) and hopefully find some of the books on my list before I was called in.  We had recently received our annual bonus payments at work, most of which had gone into our moving fund, but Karli and I had both taken a small dividend from the bonus, so I had some money to spend. 

Pulp Fiction proved to be a target-rich environment, and, unhampered by too much concern about cost (or baggage fees) I enthusiastically worked away at my shopping list until I had pulled out a good stack of replacements.

Deciding that I had reached a reasonable point in the process to stop (based on weight rather than price, given that I would be carrying my purchases around with me), I carried my first stack over to the till, and said, "One minute, I'll be right back," and returned to the shelves for my second and third piles of books, for a grand total of 29 new and used paperbacks.

The salesperson working the till looked at my purchases, and thoughtfully said,  "Well, I have good news for you, we have a volume discount plan on used books, so please be patient while I figure that out."   

As I waited, I noticed a familiar cover on a lower shelf behind the till - a copy of Lone Sloane: Delirius, a spectacular graphic novel by French fantasy artist Phillipe Druillet that was published in 1973 by Dragon's Dream**.  I've had a copy for years, but it was already well used when I purchased it, and sadly, over time the binding has begun to come apart.  Druillet is one of the incredible ground-breaking French fantasy artists that I discovered in the pages of Heavy Metal, the American publication of the French fantasy art magazine Métal Hurlant which was started by Druillet and fellow artist Jean Giraud (better known as Moebius) in 1974.

I interrupted the discount calculations to ask if I could take a look at the book.

Not realizing that he was preaching to the choir, the salesperson commented, "Please be careful with that, we keep it behind the counter because the binding is a bit fragile."

Fragility aside, the copy was in excellent condition, even the binding.  I checked the interior for pricing (the better class of used bookstores pencils the price on the inside flyleaf - yes, I'm looking at YOU, Re:Read in Toronto) but didn't see anything - which kind of made sense, given that the pages were all full bleed 4-colour artwork.  I asked as to the price, and was told it was $75 - a lot to pay for a used book, but I had some fun money to spend, so I decided to add it to my purchases, thereby bringing my total up to a surprising $234.

As it turned out, my timing was good. Not long after I left the store, I started to receive e-mails from work, and spent the rest of the day seated at my desk, with an expectation of going back in on Sunday as well.

Meanwhile, mixed messages from BC Ferries regarding service were making Karli and her sister nervous about getting back to the mainland, so they cut their trip short and returned to Vancouver on the Saturday rather than Sunday.

And so ended the vacation part of the weekend for both of us, but at least I managed to make some good progress on updating my library - or perhaps improving is a better word, it seems odd to say that you're updating things when one of your purchases is 47 years old.

 - Sid

* For those of you for whom this would involve going to a car show, playing golf, getting drunk and watching hockey (not necessarily in that order), hey, live your truth.


** Probably best known for their publication of Views, a collection of artwork by Roger Dean.

Hopefully it's not going to get THAT bad - is it?

 

“Competence means keeping your head in a crisis, sticking with a task even when it seems hopeless, and improvising good solutions to tough problems when every second counts. It encompasses ingenuity, determination and being prepared for anything.”

- Chris Hadfield, An Astronaut's Guide to Life on Earth

"Being prepared for anything" - like, perhaps a possible global pandemic of some sort?

- Sid 

The Legend: Part 2

(This posting is the second of two on William Gibson's Agency book tour appearance at the Stanley Industrial Alliance Theatre, where he is interviewed by Marsha Lederman, the Globe & Mail's Western Art Correspondent - Part One can be read here.)

Marsha Lederman refers to Gibson's traumatic childhood - his father died when he was six, and his mother when he was 18 - and observes that, "Your protagonists sometimes have that feeling of being an orphan, and being cared for by a community, such as the character of Verity in Agency.  Am I reading too much into that?"

Gibson shrugs in response.

"Well, probably – I’m not very conscious… of it.

When I was studying comparative literary critical methodology, which I actually did, I ran across something that was very popular at that time with academics, I don’t know if it still is.

It’s an idea called the Interpretive Fallacy...

The interpretive fallacy said, that the fallacy was... that the author of the book had any more idea of what it was really about than anyone else reading it. And I got that. I think, I kind of see how that would work.  I think that I still apply that… to my own work.

I’ve got it - E. M Forster, Aspects of the Novel*. (The audience applauds.)

We’re now talking about something else that Forster addresses in Aspects of the Novel.

He says that the exact extent to which a novel is didactic is the exact extent – he doesn’t put it this way – to which it SUCKS."

As the audience laughs, he goes on to explain that he has no desire to be didactic in his writing.

"It’s not that I want to teach people things, I want to cause people to ask themselves questions.  And I don’t even know what those questions will be. That’s my idea of what a good book… does - to cause people to wonder… and then come to their own conclusions."

Lederman responds by noting that Agency may not be didactic but that he does have a platform, citing the Shard-shaped climate change towers in future London that "minimize the carbon emissions, or…I don’t know how it works."

Gibson interrupts her and says with a smile: "The reason you don’t know is that I don’t know how it works either. That’s a deliberately flagrant example of soft science fiction hand waving. Climate change (waves hand) – we fixed it."

 

He then takes a look at the similarly casual post-apocalyptic future he's created and the degree to which is it only sketched out.  Almost all of the action takes place within central London, there are references to characters from Toronto and New York, as well as a vague curiousity on the part of the characters regarding China (which has apparently survived by sealing itself off from the rest of the world), but that's the extent of information about the world.

A propos of nothing, he then says, "I don’t know…I’ve been talking about this book for SO LONG."

To which she responds, "Should I ask about Neuromancer**?  You’ve only been talking about that for ...35 years?

He replies that it's somewhat refreshing for him to discuss Neuromancer at this point.  Interestingly, based on his earlier comments about not being aware of the influence of parental death on his work, he focuses on the fact that none of the characters in Neuromancer have parents:

"I was incredibly young when I wrote it – I wasn’t that young chronologically, I should say I was incredibly immature when I wrote it – so I look at it now and it’s such a completely adolescent thing.  No one in Neuromancer has parents. None of them have parents, or ever had any parents, they’re these splendid... feral creatures!

One of the things which has changed over the course of my writing is that now they have parents. Verity’s mother is still alive, and she has to call her, and she doesn’t get along with her stepfather... there are families that aren’t families of evil technocratic billionaires and whatnot.  Those are the only families in Neuromancer… and I don’t think I knew that I was doing that, you know.

It’s probably quite appealing for some readers."

Lederman tells us that as she was getting ready for the evening, her 11 year old was playing Fortnite, and shouted out, "Welcome to the Agency," which obviously has no link to Gibson's book, but which seems to speak to the interconnectedness of popular culture.  She then asks, "Do you game at all?"

Gibson points out that although he himself wasn't (and isn't) a gamer, Neuromancer's virtual interaction with the digital environment had its roots in the gaming environment of the 1980s:

"The whole cyberspace thing in my early fiction came from walking by really early gaming arcades on Granville Street and seeing the posture of the kids who were playing those games like how physically into it they were and it seemed to me that if they could have reached through the screen and grabbed those giant wonky pixels and moved them around that would have given them what they wanted.  And that was where the cyberspace concept came from, from looking into very primitive game arcades.

That sort of does continue for me as a technique – I was able to do that because I wasn’t playing those games."

 He then admits to being a late adopter because of this approach.

"So when new things emerge, I’m usually reluctant to jump right into new technologies and new forms of mass media as they emerge but only because I want to watch other people being affected by it first – because it gives me some really valuable sort of material that I wouldn’t gain if I were a constant participant.

It’s like you can’t be the anthropologist of your own culture. You have to be outside … you have to be from, maybe a previous culture, it really doesn’t matter. 

But … I think that’s worked for me all along … I was very slow to get on the internet and all.  I used to say, my friends were on bulletin boards and things, and they’d say, You should do this, and I’d say, I’ll do it when dogs and children can do it

And then the world wide web was invented and dogs and children can do it!

So I had no choice.

But once I was IN it, I was OF it, and I could no longer had that extra perspective, I guess."

Lederman goes on to ask about virtual reality and whether or not Gibson has had any VR experiences, to which he replies that he's had "a TON of VR experiences... because when people make it, they like to catch me if I’m anywhere where they are, and say 'Put this thing on!' and I’d have this experience."

However, he also notes that, as far as he's concerned, VR has failed, and that the real success has been the flat screen gaming experience, which is immersive for users without the need for any kind of headmount.

Following the virtual reality exchange, there's a question period, after which we have the option of lining up for autographs, something that I don't normally do out of consideration for other people who may be with me.  However, in this case I'm on my own, so I decide to get in line. 

Pulp Fiction, one of Vancouver's better book stores, is conveniently selling Gibson's books in the lobby.  I buy a copy of Agency - graciously discounted by 20% - and join the queue.

As I stand there casually leafing through my newly purchased hardcover, a helpful theatre employee comes by with a supply of Post-it™ notes, asking people if they just want a signature or if they would like to have it personalized. I have no plans to flog the book on eBay™as an autographed Gibson, so I cheerfully request that it be personalized for Sid, which she writes on a sticky and adds to the flyleaf of my copy.

The line moves along fairly rapidly - Disneyland was worse - and it's only about 25 minutes before I arrive at the autograph table and Mr. Gibson himself.  I make the deadpan observation that the woman handing out the Post-its had reassured me that the signing wasn't a tipping situation, and that I just want to confirm that, which gets a bit of a chuckle from everyone except Gibson.

As he signs my book, I ask if I can take a picture, and he pauses and poses.  Hoping to get a reaction, I ask him to make love to the camera, but his faint Mona Lisa half-smile does not change by a hair.  I'm not completely off my game, other people smile, but apparently it takes a bit more than that to make a legend laugh.***

- Sid

* In the first half of the interview, Mr. Gibson was unable to summon up this author's name in the heat of the moment, so when it came back to him, we gave him a round of appreciative and sympathetic applause.

** For the non-fans in the audience, Neuromancer was Gibson's brilliant breakout novel from 1984.  That being said, if there are non-fans reading this, thank you.

*** And I don't even get a good shot, it's just too dim, something that they really should take into account for an autograph setup.