When Clay walked into Penumbra’s store in those opening pages and marveled at its shelves rising into the dimly lit stratosphere, I knew exactly how he felt and turned the page feeling that old exhilaration well up in me once more. A novel that can conjure up this authentically reverential feeling while also exuding excitement for future reading technologies and possibilities is a rare beast indeed, and one I thoroughly enjoyed.
A first edition of Frankenstein, signed by the author for Lord Byron? If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go explore my grandparents' attics.
The pleasure of reading repulsive writers, a piece that includes the line ‘“Haha L.M.A.O.,” Gandalf goes on to say, more or less.’