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Sundries

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel:
I try to avoid any book that I see people reading on the train. It's not so much a stance against popular culture as it is an egomaniacal need to feel above whatever it is others are interested in (I should probably take this up with a therapist sometime). When Susanna Clark's massive tome made its US debut, dozens of readers lugged it around for months. I wrote it off as an extension of the Harry Potter phenomenon and thought nothing more of it. A pity, really, as now that I'm lugging the book around myself, I find it quite engaging. With lots of characters, side-stores and footnotes (that go on for pages) Clark has crafted a pleasant world to get lost in.

A Young Adult Novel that I Cannot Mention:
A dear friend just signed a two book deal with a respected publisher. I was honered to read the first draft and offered lots of suggestions and notes. Fortunately, the book really is good. There's nothing worse than having to tell a friend that their book, band, artwork, poetry, or similar expression is . . . really great! No, really, you're totally talented!

I've been in that position more than once. It's hard to maintain a pleasant countenance when, deep down, you feel rather nauseous about the whole thing. This experience was pleasantly different. I'll plug it when it's actually in book stores. For now, I've been sworn to secrecy.

Chris Thomas King
In college, I spent countless hours listening to old, scratchy recordings of blues and folk music. I'd scores of albums, many of them from the amazing Smithsonian Folkways catalog. Sadly, in the days before albums were easily ripped to hard drive, I sold the entirety of my collection to (a very happy) used record store. I needed the cash to support an incredibly stupid relationship. Chris Thomas King, with his extraordinary rendition of the classics, has reunited me with the music that once meant so much to me. I've more or less forgotten about the girl.

His Name is Alive
Fuzzy, geek-synth, electronica from Michigan. With sexy vocals. I downloaded Detrola the other day but have yet to listen to it extensively. I think it's good, but it requires a certain situation (and headphones) to be properly appreciated.

Information Aesthetics
I've been on the job interview circuit for the last couple of months. In countless conversations I'm asked "What sites to you read regularly? Where do you draw inspiration?" The answer, inevitably, is Information Aesthetics. It's the sort of site that looks great to prospective employers and has the benefit of actually being a source of great inspiration.

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Wednesday, February 7

ON THE BEAUTY OF MECHANICAL THINGS: PART 2
Shortly after the new year I cleared my apartment of dozens of books, an old laptop that didn’t work, and a broken typewriter (the one I was least attached to). Revealing this might suggest that I live like the Collyer brothers, an impression I don’t want to make. It’s just that I like being surrounded by books and interesting things.

Faced with a shortage of shelf space, however, it seemed a good time to unload. So, I piled everything onto a pushcart and wheeled it down to the Brown Elephant, a resale shop that supports the Howard Brown Health Center. As I walked through the door, a few customers looked over the goods and immediately snatched a few titles. Staff, eager to grab some of the books for themselves, stashed them under the counter. It all made me feel like a bit of a badass.

Insofar as badasses donate books to thrift stores.

Nature abhors an empty shelf. With space to fill, my weekly visits to thrift stores and antique markets took on a certain urgency. But I didn’t want to fill my shelves with junk. I am, after all, a man of discriminating tastes.

Victor Adding Machine As such, I got a bit emotional when I came across a beautiful old adding machine. It was in perfect shape, with a pearlescent bakelite case and sea-green keys. And it worked! With a satisfying clacking and grinding of gears, pulling on its lever resulted in figures and sums on a paper tape. Awesome!

After bringing it home, I discovered that the Victor Adding Machine Co. was based in Chicago. Founded in 1918 the company remained in Chicago until it was sold in the late 70’s. An interesting device with a local connection? It’s almost too much to ask for. Especially at thrift store prices.

What strikes me about the Victor adding machine, in addition to its solid build quality (an issue I got quite uptight about in the previous entry) is its extraordinary art-deco design. Smooth and sleek, it screams speed, elegance and romance. Not qualities one would associate with a simple adding machine. This was, after all, office equipment.

With the exception of the original iMac, I can’t think of any modern device with such an aesthetic. Apple has gone on to an ultra-modern, clean room design scheme (which, I have to admit, I really like) and one would be hard pressed to find a calculator as sexy as this adding machine. It seems the only consumer products actually designed are high end lamps and hipster furniture.

I’m curious as to why this is. At what point did utility trump style? Is a function of economics and the demand for cheaper goods or something more?