Books!

Ringdrotten wrote:Came across a book called William Shakespeare's Star Wars yesterday, opened it, read a few lines and then I had to buy it Based on the little I read in the store it looked hilarious - I'll come back to this thread when I've read it. Picture below

malickfan wrote:Recently finished 1984...whilst it was a very well written book (and certainly felt like a 'classic' in every sense of the word), I can't help but wonder why so many people list it as a favourite, a  political satire with a very depressing ending and some rather dated stereotypes...sure it's good, but how is it fun? I remember having a similar reaction reading Animal Farm at school, maybe it's just my personal preferences (or my age) but George Orwell definitely seems more of a critics writer than an audiences author...

malickfan wrote:Recently finished 1984...whilst it was a very well written book (and certainly felt like a 'classic' in every sense of the word), I can't help but wonder why so many people list it as a favourite, a  political satire with a very depressing ending and some rather dated stereotypes...sure it's good, but how is it fun? I remember having a similar reaction reading Animal Farm at school, maybe it's just my personal preferences (or my age) but George Orwell definitely seems more of a critics writer than an audiences author...

I also re read 'Colditz: The Full Story' (one of the inspirations for the TV series I believe) by Major Pat Reid (an ex P.O.W held at the camp), riveting, surprising and bleakly hillarious, one of the most interesting books on WW2 I've read.

“So far, we have established that the binding is seventeenth century. That doesn’t mean that the pages match this binding and not another. But let’s assume they do. As for the paper, it seems similar to other batches whose origin has been authenticated.”

“Right. The binding and paper are authentic. Let’s look at the text and illustrations.”

“Now, that’s more complicated. We can approach the typography from two different angles. One: we can assume that the book is authentic. The owner, however, denies this, and according to you he has ways of knowing. So authenticity is possible but not very probable. Let’s assume that it’s a forgery and work out the possibilities. On the one hand, the entire text might be a forgery, a fabrication, printed on paper dating from the time and bound using boards from the time. This is unlikely. Or, to be more precise, not very convincing. The cost of such a book would be enormous.... On the other hand, and this is reasonable, the forgery might have been made shortly after the first edition of the book. I mean that it was reprinted with alterations, disguised to resemble the first edition, some ten or twenty years after this date of 1666 that appears in the frontispiece. But to what end?”

“It was a banned book,” Pablo Ceniza pointed out.

“It’s possible,” agreed Corso. “Somebody who had access to the equipment—the plates and types—used by Aristide Torchia might have been able to print the book again.”The elder brother had picked up a pencil and was scribbling on the back of a printed sheet. “That would be one explanation,” he said. “But there are other alternatives that seem more plausible. Imagine, for instance, that most of the book’s pages are authentic but that some were missing, either torn out or lost, and that somebody replaced those missing pages using paper that dates from the time, good printing techniques, and a lot of patience. In that case, there are two further possibilities: one is that the added pages are reproductions of those from a complete copy. Another is that, in the absence of the original to reproduce or copy, the contents of the pages were invented.” The bookbinder showed Corso what he had been writing. “It would be a true case of forgery, as illustrated by this diagram.”

While Corso and Pablo were looking at the paper, Pedro again leafed through The Nine Doors.

“I am inclined to think,” he added after a moment, once he had their attention again, “that if some pages were interpolated, it was done either around the time of the original edition, or now, in our time. We can discount the time between the two, because such a perfect reproduction of an ancient work has become possible only very recently.”

Corso handed back the diagram and asked, “Imagine you were faced with a book that had pages missing. And you wanted to complete it using modern techniques. How would you go about it?”

The Ceniza brothers sighed deeply in unison, professionally relishing the prospect. They were now both staring intently at The Nine Doors.

“Let us suppose,” Pedro said, “that this hundred-and-sixty-eight-page book has page 100 missing. Pages 100 and 99, since one sheet has two sides. And we want to replace it. The trick is to locate a twin.”“A twin?”

“As we say in the trade,” said Pablo, “another complete copy.”

“Or at least a copy where the two pages we need to duplicate are intact. It would also be advisable to compare the twin with our incomplete copy, to see if the depths of the type impressions in the paper are different or if the letters have worn differently. As you know yourself, types were moveable then and could easily wear down or be damaged. So with manual printing, the first and last copy of the same print run could vary greatly. They might have crooked or broken letters, hold the ink differently, things like that. Examining such variations allows you to add or remove imperfections on an interpolated page so that the page matches the rest of the book. We would then proceed with photomechanical reproduction and produce a plastic pho-tolith. And from that we would obtain a polymer or a zinc.”

“A plate in relief,” said Corso, “made of resin or metal.”

“Exactly. However perfect the reproduction technique, we would never get the relief, the mark on paper typical of old printing methods that used inked wood or metal. So the entire page has to be reproduced using a moldable material—resin or metal. Such a plate creates very similar effects to printing with the kind of movable lead types used in 1666. We put the plate on the press and print the page manually, as was done four centuries ago ... using paper that dates from the same time, of course, or treated both before and after with artificial aging methods. The composition of the ink must be thoroughly researched. The page is treated with chemical agents so that it matches the other pages. And there you are, the crime is carried out.”

“But suppose the original sheet doesn’t exist. Suppose there’s no model from which to copy the two missing pages.”

The Ceniza brothers both smiled confidently.“That,” said Pedro, “makes it even more interesting.”

“Research and imagination,” added Pablo.

“And daring, of course, Mr. Corso. Suppose Pablo and I have that copy of The Nine Doors with pages missing. The other one hundred sixty-six pages provide us with a catalogue of all the letters and symbols used by the printer. We take samples until we have obtained an entire alphabet. We reproduce the alphabet on photographic paper, which is easier to handle, and then multiply each letter by the number of times it appears on the page. The ideal, the artistic flourish, would be to reproduce the types in molten lead, as ancient printers used to do. Unfortunately this is too complicated and expensive. We make do with modern techniques. We divide up the letters with a blade into loose types, and Pablo, who has a steadier hand, composes the two pages on a template, line by line, just as a compositor would have done in the seventeenth century. From that we produce another proof on paper and eliminate any joins or imperfections in the letters, or we add faults similar to those found in the letters of the original text. Then all we need do is make a negative. From the negative you get a reproduction in relief, and there you have your printing plate.”

“What if the missing pages are illustrations?” “It makes no difference. If we had access to the original engraving, of course, the technique for making a copy would be easier. In this case, the fact that the engravings are all woodcuts, which have lighter lines than copperplate or dry-point, means that we can produce an almost perfect piece of work.”

“Suppose the original engraving no longer exists.” “That’s not a problem either. If we know of it-from references, we can imitate it. If not, we can invent it. After studying the technique used for the book’s other engravings, of course. Any good draftsman could do it.” “What about printing it?”

“As you know, a woodcut is an engraving in relief. A cube of wood is cut with the grain and covered with a white background. The picture is drawn on top. Then the wood is carved and the ink applied on the crests, or ridges, so that it can be transferred onto paper. When reproducing woodcuts, there are two options. One is to make a copy of the drawing, preferably in resin. The alternative, if you have a good engraver, is to make another real woodcut, with the same techniques that were used to produce the original engravings, and to print directly from that. In my case, as I have a good engraver in my brother, I would hand print it from a woodcut. Wherever possible, art should imitate art.”

“You get better results,” added Pablo.

Corso looked at him conspiratorially.

“As with the Sorbonne’s Speculum,”

“Maybe. The creator or creators of that piece of work may have thought like us.... Don’t you think, Pablo?”

“They must have been romantics,” agreed his brother with a faint smile.

“Yes, they must.” Corso pointed at the book. “So, what’s your verdict?”

“I would say that it’s original,” answered Pedro Ceniza without hesitation. “Even we wouldn’t be able to produce such perfect results. Look, the quality of the paper, stains on the pages, identical tones and variations in the ink, and the typography... It’s possible that some forged pages may have been inserted, but I think it improbable. If it is a forgery, the only explanation is that the forgery must have been done around the same time. How many known copies are there? Three? I assume you have considered the possibility that all three are forgeries.”

“Yes, I have. What about the woodcuts?”

“They’re definitely very strange. All those symbols ... But they do date from the time. The degree of impression on the plates is identical. The ink, the shades of the paper... Maybe the key lies not in how or when they were printed but in their contents. I’m sorry we haven’t made much progress.”

“You’re wrong.” Corso prepared to close the book. “We’ve made a lot of progress.”

Eldorion wrote:I never finished The Once and Future King, though it's always been on my list of books to return to.  This project sounds really interesting.

Eldorion wrote:I've heard a fair bit about it, but it doesn't really sound like my cup of tea.  I might give it a try eventually, but dipping my toes into both The Kingkiller Chronicle and The Stormlight Archive kind of soured me on reading fantasy that has lots of people raving about it. :/

Interesting perspective on Malazan here from a guy who's pretty deep into ASOIAF fandom: http://thewertzone.blogspot.com/2008/10/confounding-nature-of-malazan-series.html

I'll put this simply. If J.R.R.-freakin'-Tolkien could wrap up the first, biggest, and best epic ever in three books, no one else has ANY excuse to do otherwise. I recognize that a lot of authors have a lot of their time and energy invested in their pet worlds, and I also recognize that books about those worlds are often in demand by their fans. I recognize that as a rationalization, not an excuse.

I don't really mind if the scope of your universe is big enough to fit a non-linear and widely variant body of work. Niven's Known Space, Heinlein's Future History, Fiest's Midkemia, these are all pretty large and well-populated universes with a wide range of possibilities. They are all places I don't mind coming back to and visiting from time to time with just enough continuity and familiarity to set the mood. It's these long-running series of books that are either purely or damn-near linear and use largely the same (ever expanding) character set that set me to sneering like Elvis.

Why? You get suckered in, you buy the first couple of books and they look good and you have no idea that the author is never going to stop, never, not even if he has a major stroke and has to type out the next four 700-page installments with his tongue. Meanwhile, you're waiting 6 to 18 months for the next book depending on how big a hack you've chosen and after a while you've forgotten why you gave a shit about any of the heroes or villians. Forget term limits for politicians, what about term limits for a series?

Mr. Jordan, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your series is getting so damn long it's approaching the level of a racial memory. The last couple were a few hundred pages of people walking from place to place looking confused sandwiched in between two fifty page chunks of stuff actually HAPPENING. It's like watching four sloths trying to complete the Eco Challenge. You've got more major characters than most of the remaining readers have brain cells, there's so much plot and character mixing that people are writing books just to keep up with it and folks are arguing on Usenet about just who is who instead of talking about the plot. Can you please, please, wrap things up a bit before the Wheel of Time rolls over whatever patience I have left?

Mssrs. Anthony and DeChancie, the first few books were very cute and we're oh-so grateful. Really, we are. However, you've been hitting that same note so often that the lobe of your brain that is generating it must look like Dizzy Gillespie's cheeks by now. I know you've tried other things, but you keep going back to that one cash cow like Steve Cone going back into rehab. No one's paying any attention any more, they're just buying the books out of habit and the words are going through them like a mexican omelette.

Ms. Lackey, there's so many sequels and prequels out there that I can't even keep track of who's gay anymore. Mr. Perry - we get the idea, they're all fucking badasses, can we move on now? Mr. Pratchett, you just keep on going - I'd love to chide you but you're so goddamn entertaining I can't help myself. Mr. Foster, you are to be applauded for realizing you are NOT Mr. Pratchett and never will be and lending your talents to a greater diversity of projects.

The rest of you, you know who you are. Publish and be damned.