I couldn’t resist the costumes and pomp the trailers promised. So myself and a group of women of a certain age gathered to view the newest incarnation of the novel, The Great Gatsby. I wrote about my trepidation regarding this version when viewing the coming attractions. I saw how gaudy and overblown the production values seem to be, and had that sinking feeling, oh good lord, it’s going to be another Moulin Rogue. Baz Luhrmann directed both, and the outrageous sets, computer graphics, and effects are similar, but with Gatsby, they’re on steroids. All sorts of factual mistakes are made, from the year and make and model of Gatsby’s and other cars, to various fake luminaries at his extravagant parties. Parties that no human could
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How do you accept payments? In Toronto there are a multitude of booksellers of different types and sizes: some are huge multi-story stores with thousands of books, DVDs, and music; others are small storefronts whose square footage can be measured in tens of feet. Then there are the individuals who set up on a street corner and sell books out of a cart or off of a blanket. All accept various means of payment. The individual sellers only accept cash as payment. After all, for a credit card machine you need a phone line, somewhere to plug in the terminal, all that stuff. Or at least, you used to. Not any more thanks to the ubiquity of smart phones and the emergence of small credit
In crime fiction, bad acts are the norm. Violence both civilized and grotesque make up the themes within. Not much seems too far fetched to the reader because there is a unwritten agreement between the reader and writer –ignore improbability and simply enjoy. The concept of evil, that the murderers within the pages are of an entirely bad character, is commonplace in early mysteries. A vile criminal stalks London, a cloaked individual wanders among Paris streets stabbing innocents along his way. Gangsters use tommy guns to wipe out other gangsters. Each of the perpetrators have a motive. A motive is essential to a crime novel, without one, the story becomes senseless. Mysteries are read as an act of control over the uncontrollable. In a crime
by Jas Faulkner THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers.-T.S.Eliot (from The Wasteland) There is always a stifling blanket of ambient rage that drapes over everything whenever something bad happens. I had hoped, as I set out to run errands and spend time away from my work, that the Spring weather would serve as a balm. On April 18th, 2013, Nashville was blessed with beautiful weather and relative peace and safety. In spite of this, every stoplight presented someone with
from The Chicago Grid For 10 years, Teresa Kirschbraun kept her eyes peeled for a business opportunity promising enough to let her safely escape her hectic but lucrative career as a healthcare industry consultant. She found her opening in a surprising enterprise: bookselling. Kirschbraun opened the doors to City Lit Books in Logan Square in August. Her 2,000-square-foot store is warm and inviting, with a working fireplace and a flurry of handwritten notes that recommend the staff’s favorite new novels, nonfiction and children’s books. On the store’s crimson awning, right next to the logo, small print proclaims “EST. 2012.” Despite the pervasive image of independent bookstores as musty money pits, doomed to be crushed under the relentless wheels of Amazon.com, Kirschbraun believes she can make