Sunday, December 12, 2010

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At the Book Fair



Consider the Lobster: The Manifesto of 2010 More books Free


The exhibition of small and medium publishing More books Free ended a few days .
I was there (like every year, for that matter). The idea to find the titles that will probably not show itself nowhere makes me bear gladly scarrozzata about an hour from where I live up to the EUR. For the uninitiated, are almost five kilometers. Once you get on the bus and proceeding along the indomitable Christopher Columbus - the main artery that leads to Rome Ostia and the coast -, intuits three stops before those who must go down to the fair.
They have all the cotton ones.
There must be a deep connection between our cotton, with long handles that if you only fill half sawing in two the shoulder, and the Book Fair. There is no one to carry, say, a bag Prada or Louis Vuitton (bootleg or not): many people have the need to bring these uncomfortable printed bags in various ways, from the organic shop in Mafalda just got up today that says bite! Following Sportina, you reach the atrium of the Palazzo dei Congressi, where she staged a huge ticket office at the top of the stairs. Here, the riot broke out of claimants holding tickets of various types: completely free, with various cuts, whole. On both sides of the ticket swept by cold winds of the EUR (the show is in December) teeth chatter booksellers most unlucky of the universe: the African sellers of books with stories in Africa. They try to chase wind in the middle of the participants at the fair with their books in Africa, relying on the latent sense of guilt that lies in all those who buy books (and who does not dwell at all on the beaches between the potential customers of the peddlers of kites and towels). After escaping the clutches of the third world - because the third world godercelo prefer warm inside the building with possibly a display of our ethnic groups to explain things - we are smack in the hands of the leaflets at a discount if we wanted to buy a sling eBook or electronic book reader. With flyers in hand as we cross the threshold of the Fair, and we welcome the various stands with live radio broadcasts from the event, the various lounges miked overlap each other while you try to interview those who understand. Outside of sitting in a row, the ant stands stretches before my eyes: it is not Frankfurt or Turin, but the view from the top makes a fair impression.


small and medium publishing houses that deal with things you people would not (in fact many of the operators had an expression from replicating). I was long courted by a gentleman who wanted to sell the texts that would "change the world", I shook hands with the famous literary translator Susanna Basso Are sent from one stand to another in search of a person I knew and I knew was there. Sportina around the dance and each is filled with the first chapters of books as if they were stickers. I have one on a murder set in Victorian London (great place for murders and perversions, best of Stockholm). What fascinates me are not small, but very small publishing houses that give a gadget so that you remember all of them. I even slips of the covers of their books - among other things, the effort to make the graphics for the covers is inversely proportional to the size of the publishing house - Here is a graphic example of the minimal-50s 66thAnd2nd :




Or that other, more traditional, the HACC :



An example of the type of people you can find at the fair you can find it in this little slide show slightly revised by me in pictorial form:




leaving from the fairgrounds at dusk from the red of the interior to be ripomba dark outside, and you end up buying the book on the steps of recipes Equatorial Africa, the seller - he too dark - hands you know by now that all of these books have done to increase your feelings of guilt towards the world. Meeting at the bus stop towards the center crossroads of people who are also experienced like you, and are slumped on the bench semi-anti-camp, a buttock and go off and the rest of the body balanced by Sportina whose handles are bleeding hands.
Because who goes to the Book Fair is, deep down, a martyr.

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