Marginalia: GalleyCat, Beatrice

In our past Marginalia entries we’ve given short shrift to publishing blogs—perhaps naïvely assuming that our readers’ interests fall on the artsier, fartsier side of the Abbeville equation—but all of that’s about to change. Today we’d like to introduce you to MediaBistro’s GalleyCat, the most comprehensive and stylish insider publishing blog on the Web. What’s that—you’re already a fan? Well, we’d like to tell you why we are too.

Reason #1: Like us, they enjoy making grandiose claims: they call themselves “the first word on the book publishing industry.” Unlike us, they are merely being accurate. Reason #2: They cover the publishing world from every possible angle, featuring interviews with authors, publishers, agents, and other insiders; industry news, buzz, and commentary; book trailers (book trailers?—somewhere Harold Bloom is quietly weeping) for hot upcoming releases; links to top publishing blogs and articles; and reportage on publishing events (i.e., parties) around the city. This last could be considered GalleyCat’s specialty. Their stories about rooftop galas and the like help remind us that we work in a glamorous profession, throwing a little glitter over the endless sea of proofreader’s marks staring up at us from our desks.

Finally, Reason #3: Their logo is a cat. We like cats.

One of the editors of GalleyCat, Ron Hogan, also keeps a book blog called Beatrice.com that we highly recommend. Beatrice is a more focused project that features extended excerpts from Hogan’s conversations with authors. The site has been around since 1995, which in Internet Years makes it as venerable as the East India Trading Company. Unlike that company, however, it is still very much in business, and you should go see for yourself what’s made it stand the test of time.

Abbeville vs. Chicago Part 3

Today we at Abbeville square off yet again against our older, more orange rival, The Chicago Manual of Style, in a grueling battle for style guide supremacy. (You can find previous battles here and here.) This time, the fight is personal. In one of the opening chapters of their latest edition, Chicago presumes to delineate “The Manuscript Editor’s Responsibilities.” We’re manuscript editors, and we only found out maybe two, three weeks ago that we had anything of the kind. Let’s see how our vision of our job compares to Chicago’s—and let our readers decide for themselves which vision they prefer. To arms!

Style Points: The Manuscript Editor’s Responsibilities

1.1. Manuscript editing and developmental editing. According to Chicago, “manuscript editing…requires attention to every word in a manuscript…and the ability to make quick, logical, and defensible decisions.” True enough. Lightning speed, merciless logic, and mastery of self-defense are the essential survival skills of a good editor—and of a worthy opponent. So far, so good. But Chicago continues: “[Manuscript editing] is distinct from developmental editing (not discussed in this manual), which addresses more radically the content of a work.” WHOA! If you can’t handle radical editing, Chicago, you might as well not have shown up, because that’s the only kind we do.

1.2. Stages of editing. Chicago claims that “Editors usually go through a manuscript three times.” Three times? That’s all they can handle? That’s what they call “responsibility”? Maybe chumps take three glances at a manuscript and call it a day; editors go through a manuscript nine times and throw in a tenth because they love the smell of the ink, the serifs of the font, and the blind rush of power that comes from sending superfluous commas to their doom.

1.3. Discretion in substantive editing. Chicago: “A light editorial hand is nearly always more effective than a heavy one.” Abbeville: [crosses out this lame advice]

1.4. Flexibility in citation style. “Before making sweeping changes” to citations, warns Chicago, “the editor should consult the author or the publisher or both.” Actually, citations are the place where an author or publisher is least likely to notice sweeping changes. I mean, we’ve had books where we could have turned every footnote into a Snapple Fact and no one would ever have…I mean…heh…[NOTE TO OUR PUBLISHER: Kidding. - Ed.] Well, it’s the principle, anyway.

We could go on—and in future battles, we will—but it’s Friday, and right now it’s our editorial responsibility to finish up work and go have an amazing weekend. According to Chapter IX, Section 2, Rule 5.6 of The Abbeville Manual of Style, you are advised to do the same.

Abbevideo: Cats Up Close—UP CLOSE

In a recent post we remarked on the prescience of our 1998 volume Cats Up Close, which anticipated the proliferation of such websites as I Can Haz Cheezburger?, Stuff On My Cat, and others that have taken over the Internet—and indeed culture—as we know it. Now, at last, we’ve reclaimed the trend we started all those years ago with our latest installment of Abbevideo: A Cats Up Close Montage. What some might call “filming our cats and pretending it’s work,” we call “giving you the oustanding media content you so richly deserve.” The video can be seen below or on our website here. Mroww.

P.S. The usual Abbevideo host, Blad J. Garamond, is sitting this one out, but has informed us that he and his beloved European Burmese, Rococo, love the film.

Shameless Publicity

Take a moment to check out the nice mention of us today on GalleyCat, MediaBistro’s publishing blog. GalleyCat, like Arts & Letters Daily, is a site so deservedly popular (and manifestly stylish) that it doesn’t need our recommendation—but what the hey, we’ll be profiling it anyway in a Marginalia post early next week. Meanwhile, take a look at Michael Ian Black’s response to their query regarding his increasingly hilarious feud with David Sedaris.

We also had a book reviewed this week by momeld, the design blog you may remember from one of our earlier recommendations. The book is New Bar + Club Design, and they liked it, they really liked it! (The Arbiters of Style are fond of it, too—it’s one of those books we wish we’d gotten to help “research.”)

Soon to come is an Abbeville book contest/giveaway on the illustrious Art Blog by Bob. Check back for more details just before the Fourth of July, and in the meantime, get yourself ready for the holiday by reading Bob’s recent post on “hyper-American” transcendentalist painter Rockwell Kent. What is it with painters named Rockwell being hyper-American, anyway?

Coming Up Tomorrow: Our latest Abbevideo. We have a feeling this one’s going Abbeviral…

Marginalia: artnet

Today we’re recommending artnet, a site which, despite its self-effacing lowercase title, is the Internet’s premier resource for buying, selling, and researching fine art. Even casually perusing its online auctions is a heady experience; at this very moment, you could place a bid on a classic Walker Evans photograph—if you have at least $15,000 to toss around, that is. This ain’t eBay, kids; these are the big leagues. And while the prices may be too rich for this humble editor’s blood, many Abbeville readers will undoubtedly find artnet an ideal place to bid on beautiful objects without having to put on a necktie or dress.

The site’s other major features include the Gallery Network, a searchable database of 1800 major galleries around the globe; the Price Database, a comprehensive archive of world art auction results; and artnet Magazine, an insider review of news and trends in the art market. For artists, gallery owners, dealers, and art-world aficionados alike, artnet is invaluable. And notwithstanding our wisecracks above, it’s a good resource for collectors on a budget, too: among the potential steals we found were one of Lichtenstein’s first Pop prints (current bid $1335) and a number of Bible-themed Chagall pieces (opening at $325 each). Get ‘em while they’re hot!

Culture Wars and Trophy Art

Jed Perl has written a provocative analysis of the contemporary art scene in The New Republic, zeroing in on what he calls the “trophy art” phenomenon embodied by the work of Damien Hirst, Jeff Koons, Takashi Murakami, and other creators of outsized and fabulously expensive installation pieces. According to Perl, this trend is not only over-commercializing art and ravaging museum spaces but also producing an enormous amount of overrated kitsch. He traces the problem back to the anti-aesthetics of the Dadaists, explaining that “the artists involved—beginning with Duchamp and including Rauschenberg, Warhol, Salle, and Koons—celebrate, or toy with, a number of apparently contradictory thoughts: that art is nothing; that art can be anything; that randomness and order are the same thing; that art has no particular place in the world; that art can be found anyplace in the world; that art is just another commercial product, like tennis balls and washing machines.”

As Arbiters of Style, we know that none of these things are true. Art (like style) doesn’t exist everywhere and can’t be created by everyone, or by machine—that’s it’s whole power and mystique, and that’s what makes judging it so damn fun. Snobbery can be grating, but it’s an essential part of the game. (And what gets us up in the morning.) Deep down, no one believes that aesthetic value is entirely subjective, relative, or egalitarian: even the sophomore philosophy major who wants to make that claim about high art will immediately get outraged if you place his favorite indie band on an equal musical footing with Celine Dion. And certainly the artists Perl mentions—even good old Andy—never believed as much either; if art is everywhere or nowhere or meaningless or purely commercial, why would they have worked so hard to achieve the shamanlike status of “artist,” and why would the public have conferred it on them? Rather, these artists trafficked (and continue to traffic) in a simple kind of irony—a parody of anti-aesthetic values, and of the culture that produces them—that can be fierce and dark and even shocking, but that gets exhausted pretty quickly.

Broadly speaking, then, we agree with Perl’s assessment. On the other hand, he indulges in some oversimplification himself, often unfairly lumping together Hirst, Koons, et al. without entertaining the possibility that distinctions exist among them. More importantly, he fails to consider serious counterarguments of the kind that true fans of the artists might make. You could contend, for example, that Koons’ giant puppies embody a spirit of total free play—the spirit that makes children start drawing and sculpting to begin with and that often gets completely obscured in “adult” works of art. (The dog sculptures are, not surprisingly, especially popular with children.) By highlighting this spirit and blowing it up to giant proportions, perhaps Koons’ best work transcends the merely kitschy or ironic. What do our readers think? Read the article, discuss, comment.

Update 6/24: For more commentary on the Perl article, check out Laurie Fendrich’s thoughtful article over at Brainstorm.

Marginalia: PowellsBooks.BLOG

Nearly all of our readers will have heard of Powell’s Books, the major online book retailer, but thus far their blog—emphatically titled PowellsBooks.BLOG—has not become as widely known. In fact, in a recent post that tugged our heartstrings, the lack of reader comments on their site prompted their editor Brockman to launch a primal howl of despondency into the Internet void. We could identify with this, so we left him an encouraging message—and shamelessly fished for one in return. Not only did Brockman oblige, he also linked back to us. Grazie, signor!

But our reasons for liking the site go well beyond our understanding of the trials and tribulations of the blogging experience. Powell’s is a book blog of the most eclectic variety, covering “authors, readers, critics, media—and booksellers” (we like that dramatic em-dash) and spotlighting everything from popular Danielle Steel and Dan Brown favorites to the latest tome by Gore Vidal. Their guest bloggers have included authors Stephanie Klein and Josh Kilmer-Purcell and comedian Kevin Nealon of SNL fame. In short, their site has something for everyone, and we suspect that their pining for reader affection is more than a little tongue-in-cheek: we were hardly the only voice of support to respond to their Dark Night of the Blogger’s Soul.

Nevertheless, you should check them out for yourself and extol their virtues with comments of your own. And hey, don’t forget us, either. Have a great weekend!

Bookstores of Style: The Raconteur

The Raconteur, based out of Metuchen, New Jersey, is the very model of the modern independent bookstore. It was founded in 2005, bucking the whole trend of the book industry toward large chain stores and online retailers. It has a name and logo that ooze panache (the drawing of the Raconteur could pass for the portly granduncle of Blad J. Garamond); a very funny website; an events blog; a regular blog; a private literary society; a summer writing workshop; a slate of “oddball literary happenings” that includes pub crawls and beard-growing contests; a decor that features Hunter S. Thompson’s obituary, a piano, and a knight’s helmet; and above all, a damn fine selection of books. It even has its own motorcycle club, but that’s just gravy. This “literary sanctuary” has garnered admiring press from The New York Times and the London Guardian, among other publications, but today it receives the most coveted plaudit of all: the imprimatur of the Abbeville Manual of Style.

How do we know about this place? One of our Arbiters, the previously-uncredited Lauren Evangelista, is a frequent patron and a friend of the owner, Alex Dawson. When Lauren goes book shopping, The Raconteur is where she goes. So there’s a personal connection here, but it hardly matters; the most objective possible assessment of this store will confirm that it’s got style to spare. Hell, it even has a good prose style, as evidenced by the following excerpt from its website:

“The soul of Paris resides in its sidewalk cafes, that of London in its many pubs, Florence in its teeming piazze. The soul of central Jersey sits, wound in colored lights made from shotgun shells, high atop a shelf, squarely between a six of Gonzo Imperial Porter and a ridge-backed Rancor action figure, at The Raconteur.”

We suggest you take a peregrination to seek that soul for yourself.

P.S. At least one of our Arbiters is going to the Adult Vocabulary Bee at Chelsea Market tonight. If anyone wants to take us on, we’d love to see you there. We’ve already unloaded “plaudit,” “imprimatur,” and “peregrination” on you today; come see what else we’ve got up our sleeves. Bonus points to the Raconteur website for “poltroon.”

Deals and Steals at Artblog.net

Today we have struck a formidable alliance with Artblog.net once again, offering their readers 30% off any purchase at Abbeville.com through July 15. Head on over to their site to discover the Secret Secret Coupon Code you’ll need to use at checkout. (And before you go on your Abbeville blowout spree, take a look at the Artblog author’s stylish sketches from this recent post!)

First the Japanese Alphabet discount, now this…is it the summer heat that’s making our bargains so crazy?

(Discount applies to retail customers only and can’t be combined with any other offer. Side effects of this discount may include dizziness caused by a sudden precipitous increase in style.)

TK

For those of you not in the industry, “TK” is editor-ese for “to come,” as in “still to come.” When text or an illustration is missing from a set of pages, “TK” is the placeholder that reassures the harried editor it’ll be there someday. No, the abbreviation doesn’t quite make sense, and no, we don’t know who first came up with it all those eons ago—it’s a Jurassic Mystery—but we’re using it to promise that some new, fun features will be gracing this site soon. We’ve been waiting to roll these out for a while now, and summer seems like the perfect time to do so. Here’s what’s TK on the AMoS:

1. As an extension of our weekly “Marginalia” feature on our favorite blogs and websites, we’ll be spotlighting our favorite independent bookstores across the country. Being employees of an independent publisher, as well as a bunch of voracious readers, we love independent bookstores and everything they stand for. Naysayers have called theirs a fading industry, but we think they’re more necessary than ever; whenever our fingers start to prune from our daily bath of digital culture, it’s to the bookstore, with its honest old bindings and un-hyperlinked texts, that we escape. (For a related spiel, see #3 below.)

2. Not content with merely adjudicating style, one of our Arbiters will soon be demonstrating it. We’re happy to announce that later this summer, our very own Erin will be exhibiting samples of her photography on this site. No, the Manual isn’t turning into a “photoblog,” but it is becoming, in part, an image exposition.

3. We’ll be recommending and commenting on other online articles more frequently. True, we’ll be no different in this regard from thousands of other sites, but as self-proclaimed Arbiters of Style we’d feel remiss if we didn’t share everything that we’re reading and thinking about. Today we are alarmed by the cold hard truth of this article in The Atlantic (thanks, Arts & Letters Daily), in which we recognize our own attention-deficient, Internet-addled selves. If you’re like us, the article will make you want to run screaming home and read War and Peace—or maybe a long, thoughtful scholarly study on Gustave Courbet.

Finally, you may have noticed the new link at the top of the sidebar, which allows you to subscribe to The Abbeville Manual of Style via email. We’ve been updating Monday through Friday for some time now, and we hope the above list gives you three more good reasons to follow our every post. Um, before you hit the Tolstoy, that is.