Fantastic Metropolis

Intro · Likes · Rituals · Necessity
Examples · Memories · Bios

Jeff VanderMeerOnce, several years ago, I visited my father’s house on a day when he was entertaining a Czechoslovakian scientist. This foreigner had brought with him an incredible elixir: a bottle of honey mead. The bottle itself was an exotic object—wicker brocade surrounded it like a forest of vines, while the red wax seal with its imprinted letters in a foreign alphabet intrigued me even more. After allowing us suitable time to admire the bottle, and all the while telling us how incredible the mead tasted, he slit the seal and poured a dark gold liquid into our glasses. It glimmered in the light. It was thick and sticky, the honey-scent mixed with another, indefinable, smell that made my mouth tingle with anticipation. We raised our glasses, made a toast to health, and drank. The taste was simultaneously muscular and delicate, sweet and strong. I’ve never experienced anything quite so intoxicating.

Except, perhaps, for books. A finely made book, well designed and executed, can be as intoxicating as any exotic drink. It exists as a creative act sometimes irrespective of the book’s contents. And, at the place where content and format fuse, you will find the perfect book. That perfect book differs for every reader, but what remains constant among book lovers is a sense that their need for books is more than just an act of nostalgia. It represents an awareness of the aesthetics and culture behind book design and book execution.

In recognition of this “fact,” I sent out a series of questions to various writers, artists, and editors as part of an ongoing project. Excerpts from some responses appeared in the program book for the 2002 New Orleans Independent Book Fair and were presented at the 2002 World Fantasy Convention for a panel.

The New Orleans book fair, more than any other event, made me optimistic about the future of the book-as-artifact. The Babylon Lexicon, a display of hand-made and eccentric books from all over the country, comprised part of the fair. The majority of the books’ creators were people in their twenties. They were all very excited about the possibilities of books as art and artifact. They did not find such an idea at odds with our modern world of computers and the Internet. In fact, they seemed to like living in both the world of books and the electronic world.

I found this comforting, especially when I looked up at one point during my perusal of books in the dealer’s room at the World Fantasy Convention and realized nearly everyone in the room was over forty.

I hope you enjoy the answers to this survey. It is, of course, ironic that the results of a book survey should be posted on an Internet site—although not as ironic as the pleasant fact that you will enjoy them more if you print the survey out in hardcopy form…

A few notes about the responses

1. The responses gathered for this Fantastic Metropolis feature represent the most complete set yet printed or presented;
2. I have resisted the urge to delete duplicative answers. A reader can sometimes find value in reading the same opinion expressed in different ways;
3. At some point near the end of this project, I realized I hadn’t answered the questions, so I have now answered them, with my answers posted on my weblog;
4. Not all respondents answered all the questions;
5. Anyone who wants to can post their own responses to the questions on the Book Survey message threads on FM’s message board.

The Five Questions

1. What do you most like about the book as a physical object?
2. Do you have any rituals or procedures you go through after acquiring a new (or used) book? (Some writers indicate they bite or smell books.)
3. Is it necessary for books to exist as physical objects in our increasingly electronic world? If so, why?
4. What recent examples stand out for you as exemplar of well-designed, well-made books?
5. Do you have any memory connected to books that you would like to share?

• Respondent biographical notes