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I’ve heard critics of the e-reader mention everything from the death of book publishing to the strain on our eyes as their reasons for eschewing this new technology.  They scoff at the tidy little devices, the Kindles with their bland gray screens and the flashy gloss of the iPad.  They aren’t interested in seeing what should be–in their opinions–carefully tucked away behind a mussed-up cover all splayed out on a screen.  Like all Luddites, they cling fruitlessly to their books and magazines, holding out their paper products for all the world to see.  Look, they cry, I still read, as though the very act of reading were somehow compromised by the lack of pages.

You might wonder why I describe the book traditionalists in such specific yet derogatory terms.  This is probably because I still number myself among the masses.  But I am slowly changing.

The change began months ago, when I received a Kindle as a Christmas present.  I did not fall instantly in love.  There were aspects I liked, but the idea of a little square of plastic replacing all my boxes of books?  Well, that just didn’t seem possible.

However, I am beginning to see the beauty of the Kindle, to understand the allure of reading off a screen rather than a page.  With one click, I can buy the book recommended by an overzealous friend.  My Kindle offers instant gratification–not to mention the ability to read whatever I please (I admit I have more than a few literary guilty pleasures), free from the judgment of the subway-riding populace.

Oddly, my Kindle also has brought me closer to strangers.

We tend to believe in the isolating powers of technology, but recently I’ve come to see that new gadgets can be excellent conversation starters.  And I am not alone in this observation.  Yesterday, The New York Times ran an article suggesting that e-readers weren’t a sign of the impending downfall of human interaction, but rather another way to open lines of communication between strangers.  Furthermore, they argue, e-readers are just plain cool:

“I think, historically, there has been a stigma attached to the bookworm, and that actually came from the not-untrue notion that, if you were reading, you weren’t socializing with other people,” Dr. Levinson said. “But the e-reader changes that also because e-readers are intrinsically connected to bigger systems.” For many, e-readers are today’s must-have accessory, eroding old notions of what being bookish might have meant. “Buying literature has become cool again,” he said.

I don’t know whether my Kindle signals to the rest of the universe that I’m a hip, modern bookworm.  But it could scream nerd for all I care.  I’m slowly evolving from book-lover to simply word-lover, and the change feels great.  So, go ahead, ask me about my Kindle.  Just don’t ask me what I’m reading–it might be kind of embarrassing.

As I’m sure everyone has heard, Eat, Pray, Love hits theaters this Friday.  In case there is anyone unfamiliar with this cultural phenomenon, Eat, Pray, Love follows the protagonist, played by the always gorgeous Julia Roberts, as she travels around Italy, India, and Bali.  She starts a “no carb left behind” project, she consumes copious amounts of delicious pasta, she learns to pray and discover herself in India, and she finally finds love in Bali.  But here’s the thing: Julia Roberts isn’t playing some random character – she’s playing a real woman.

The woman in question is author Elizabeth Gilbert, who penned the 2006 memoir/travel narrative/food porn extravaganza that quickly became a best seller.  The book has inspired numerous readers to search within themselves for a deeper strength, and to reexamine their lives, looking closely at what makes them truly happy.

Gilbert starts the book – and the movie – unhappy.  She has just gone through a messy affair and a subsequent divorce.  She’s educated and wealthy, but she is just not satisfied.  Something, an elusive something, is missing from her life.  This realization prompts her to drop everything and begin traveling.  She is lucky enough to have the funds to undertake a project many of us can only dream of, but her story is still relatable.  Gilbert is lacking something, and through risking everything, she finds what she needed the most: herself.

In honor of the movie’s release, I’d like to suggest we all take a moment and think about what it is that makes us truly happy.  For some people, it’s the thrill of travel, or the calm of mediation.  For others, it’s creamy, indulgent pasta or freshly made sausage.  For me, it’s fresh basil, old cotton t-shirts, used books, and red wine.  What makes you feel blessed?

Our newest feature article takes us somewhere hot, somewhere new, somewhere a little bit dirty and a little bit dangerous: the back roads of Bolivia.

Author Stephen Eisenhammer decides to follow the trail of his personal hero, Che Guevara, who was captured and executed in the South American country.  Like Eisenhammer, Guevara was a man of letters, and took pleasure in documenting his journey.  With Che’s Bolivian Diaries in tow, Eisenhammer sets out on a pilgrimage to discover something new about the revolutionary figure.

It’s always a funny thing when we go chasing after heroes, and Eisenhammer’s trip is no exception.  In recent years, Che has become even more of an international figure, what with the films and books and preponderance of red screenprinted t-shirts.  Che has entered our consciousness as a man of uncompromising ideals and reckless bravery.  However, as it often happens, the myth has obscured the man.

The man was more than just a ruthless general: he was also a lover of poetry.  Che particularly enjoyed the works of Chilean writer Pablo Neruda.  While there are certain ideological similarities between the two men, I like to imagine that Guevara turned to Neruda for refuge from war.  I imagine him paging through the tender love poems, the odes to women loved and lost.  In my mind, this gives a softer edge to the Marxist hero.  Instead of seeing a general, a great fighter and a fearful opponent, I imagine a bearded figure, quietly drunk on words of love.  His appreciation for the written word adds another cast to Che – and it may be the reason he is so beloved by intellectuals everywhere, despite his bloody past.

If you, like me, are curious as to what Eisenhammer learns about his hero, you will have to check out the full article, On The Bolivian Trial of Che Guevara, A Literary Guerrilla.  And when you’re done, spend some time perusing our other articles on Che’s favorite poet: Pablo Neruda.

The relationship between book and the physical world is one of equal exchange and opportunity.  Often we take to the written world to better understand things in the physical world, but just as often we take to the outside world to better understand what we have read.  Though some books are enjoyed purely for entertainment, many others instruct us, broaden our horizons, and open our minds (much like travel).  To put it more simply: We learn to read, we read to learn.

Reading, like travel, can also occasionally be a confusing activity.  It challenges us to view different points of view, to absorb new ways of thinking.  In this week’s feature article, Sabil of Naguib Mahfouz in Cairo, Egypt, author Robin Graham engages in both kinds of learning.  In my (literature major-informed) opinion, Graham approaches the work of Mahfouz in the best possible way: he both reads to learn about Cairo, and visits Cairo to learn about what he has read.

It doesn’t help that Cairo is not a simple city.  Like much of the Middle East and Africa, Cairo is beset with conflict.  Understanding this conflict, and the complicated intersections of Islam, tourism, and terrorism that go on throughout the city, is no easy task.

Viewing Cairo through the lens of Naguib Mahfouz, author of the Cairo Trilogy, Graham remarks that the Islamic city is a “changed world.”  Coming to Cairo, he is able to see that Mahfouz’s works carried an underlying “dark prescience that eventually cast its shadow into real life.”  Cairo is, through all the political turmoil and social change, a city of uncertainties.

Yet uncertainties are what make for some of the best reading – and the best thinking.  We invite you to take a moment on this lazy Sunday to broaden your horizons by reading Sabil of Naguib Mahfouz in Cairo, Egypt.  It may require a moment of reflection (or two) but we promise you will learn something, because even an expert in foreign relations can glean something from stepping into another’s shoes and walking the busy streets.

This weekend, America had the closest thing we’ve ever had to a royal wedding.  While we don’t normally cover political nuptials on Literary Traveler, one detail of Chelsea Clinton’s wedding stood out to me: Her choice of poem.  Clinton used a tribute from the poet Leo Marks to his girlfriend Ruth, who died in a plane crash in Canada in 1943.  For those unfamiliar with this rather obscure writer, here is The Life That I Have:

The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours

The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.

For more information on this poignant piece, check out the discussion of the use of poems in politics over at Forbes.

Times, they are a-changin’.  At least, things are changing pretty rapidly for the characters of Mad Men, AMC’s hit drama about advertising executives. For those not in the know, the show, follows Don Draper and his lovely but seriously repressed wife (now ex-wife) Betty as they struggle to figure out where they belong in the ever-changing world of 1960s America.

Here at Literary Traveler we have quite a few Mad Men fans, and we suspect our readers have been similarly captivated by the critically-acclaimed series, which is on its fourth season.  The newest season begins on Sunday July 25th, at 10/9 central and I, for one, know exactly where I will be that night when ten p.m. rolls around.

It might seem strange that a blog devoted to literature and travel is covering a television series, but Mad Men is so rich with literary allusions – and is set in a time of such social and political turmoil – that we would be remiss to completely ignore it (plus, have I mentioned we’re fans?)  Last season, we saw Don leave Sterling Cooper to start his own firm, the assassination of John F. Kennedy, and the beginnings of Betty’s new marriage.  We also watched as the characters confronted the Civil Rights Movement and several began to experiment with drugs and the counterculture movement that has come to define our view of the 1960s. It was, in a word, epic.

To get ready for Mad Men season four, please be sure to check out our series by author Paul Millward.  First, read Flower Children of the 60′s & Ken Kesey, Father of LSD and Hippies before heading to Mad Men, Creating a Perfect World on the Avenue of Dreams. Both are essential reading for any true Mad Men fan.

And don’t forget to tune in Sunday to see where the Mad Men new season takes us!

I’ve always thought that one of the most wonderful things about traveling is how it pushes us to new experiences, to try things we never could have predicted we would do.  As cliche as it may sound, travel does broaden one’s horizons; it opens the mind to new traditions, new cultures, new people.

In our newest feature article, author Kelly Jean Egan journeys to South America, where she does something she had never done before: ayahuasca.  Ayahuasca (which literally means “rope of the dead” or “vine of the soul”) is a drug popular with writers and thrill-seekers.  Traditionally, it is taken to clear the mind and purge the body.  Peru has become the center of ayahuasca tourism – in which people from other cultures take part in the ritual ingestion of the plant-based drug – and this is where Egan goes to try the trip.

Though you will have to read our article to find out how it all ends for Egan, the idea of drug tourism is actually a rather interesting one.  Here in the United States, drugs are something of a fascination – yet they are depicted in movies and books as at once both dangerous and glamorous (think Scarface).  However, in many cultures, drugs play an important part in religious rituals.  For some, smoking peyote or ingesting ayahuasca is not a rebellious act – it’s a spiritual one.  We’re not going to claim that drugs are good, but to engage in an ancient ritual, and to expand one’s horizons while traveling – well that can be good, even if it is through means illegal in our home countries.

And on a far lesser note, I was speaking yesterday with my brother, who had just returned from a trip to Sweden.  While all of his stories were interesting, I was particularly surprised to hear this: “I had the best rum of my life.  It was illegal.”  Curious as to why one type of liquor would be illegal, I pursued the topic a little.  It turns out that U.S. citizens are currently barred from drinking Cuban liquor – even while abroad in countries where trade embargo does not apply.  My baby brother had broken the law!  And according to his account, he loved it.

As demonstrated by my sibling’s experience and by Kelly Jean Egan’s trip, travel can sometimes lead us into unexpected places, both within the outer world and within.  It can take us into jungles and up to the top of the world, but it can also help us delve into the innermost parts of our own minds.  To learn more about ayahuasca tourism, please check out Egan’s piece: Peruvian Amazon Ayahuasca’s Influence on Great Writers.

Today, in honor the holiday and the long weekend, I’ve decided to forgo Friday links and instead focus on one of my favorite American authors: Mark Twain.

For a lot of people, “summer reading” means one of two things. Either they’re referring to the mandatory “great books” assigned by High school English teachers or they’re talking about the light, “trashy,” less-than-literary novels commonly termed “beach reads.”  But when I hear the term “summer books,” I think about something else entirely.

For me, a summer book is one that I return to over and over, one that breathes heat out of its pages and soothes with its particular brand of fantasy.  These books feel carefree – reading a summer classic is about as satisfying as climbing a tree, or diving into a swimming hole.

My all-time favorite summer book is The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, though Huck Finn comes in at a close second.  These novels perfectly capture the mischievousness of childhood, the excitement and the continual yearning for freedom.  They speak to a part of me that still sometimes secretly longs to run away from home and join a circus, or a band of traveling musicians, or just float lazily down a river, ignoring all of my other responsibilities.  With his sharp wit and ability to capture the local color perfectly, Twain transports me back to a different time, one that only appears simpler at first glance.

Another reason I love Twain has less to do with his characters and more to do with the setting.  Twain is an American Author.  He is quite possibly the quintessential American Author.  Not only does he write in that hilarious, rambling, biting-yet-kind voice that feels so American, he also manages to inject each of his novels all the beauty of our country while remaining authentic.  He does not sugar-coat his books; childhood is not a perfect place, free of tension.  Tom and Huck may not be aware of the great injustices of the world at the beginning of their journeys, but as they grow and progress, they come to see our world for what it really is.

This July 4th, do America proud and pick up a book by one of our many great authors.  If Twain isn’t your cup of tea, how about some Faulkner?  Or Melville?  (May I suggest Benito Cereno?)  Or, if you don’t have that much time, check out one of our articles on Mark Twain, which include A Revealing Interview with Terrell Dempsy, Author of Searching for Jim: Slavery in Sam Clemens’s World, Mark Twain in Unionville, Nevada, and Finding Mark Twain’s Hannibal.   You can also search for other American authors at LiteraryTraveler.com.

Happy reading!

Israel holds a very special place in the American cultural consciousness.  For many, it is a holy land, a promised place where they will finally be accepted.  It is a place for pilgrimages and coming-of-age visits.  This idea is perhaps best encapsulated in the program “Birth Right,” which provides funds for young Jewish-Americans to visit the Middle Eastern country.  This Israel is somewhat of a utopia, made even more dream-like and perfect by its distance, by our infrequent visits.

However, there is another Israel.  This Israel is real; it is the stuff of politics and war, battlegrounds both actual and ideological.  The beauty of the country is made no less by its contentious political position, but, as Dorit Sasson points out in our newest feature article, there is a schism between the various visions of the country.

In a sense, this schism can be traced down to Israel’s rich past.  This is a country seeped with tradition and history.  It is a place of poetry and song.  In order to understand her view of Israel more fully, Sasson returns to a poem of her childhood, “V’Ulai” by Rachel Blaustein.  For her, the gentle poem speaks to the different versions of Israel, the Utopian image, the longing for a dream that never has been, and the reality of a place unfinished, imperfect.

Though I have never been to Israel, reading Sasson’s article, I am reminded of another great poet of Israel: Yehuda Amichai.  Amichai was born in Germany, but he spent most of his life living in Israel (both the real country and the dream-land).  Like Blaustein, much of his poetry is about his relationship to the relatively-new motherland, but in contrast to Rachel, Yehuda’s poetry is often not fit for children.  Indeed, his poetry for Jerusalem often reads like love poetry, words written by a man to a woman.  While I cannot speak for Israel, I will always remember Amichai’s words about Jerusalem:

But he who loves Jerusalem
By the tourist book or the prayer book
is like one who loves a woman
By a manual of sex positions.

Join us in nostalgia and melancholy this week by checking out Rachel Blaustein’s Kinneret, A Child’s Poem of Israel.

Every Friday, the staff at Literary Traveler gathers up relevant book news from around the web, bringing it together in a handy post for book lovers to peruse.  Enjoy!

• Can’t get enough of the reworked classics?  Android Karenina is one of the funnier entries into the strange new genre of novel.  The parts of the book not written by Tolstoy are the words of Ben H. Waters, who has also done his best to bastardize Jane Austin with Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters.  While it seems like a fun summer read, we feel the need to add: The original is pretty amazing, too.
• The Examiner has a funny and charming interview with author Lisa Brown, whose recently published novel Picture The Dead is just beginning to garner some serious attention.  The book is described as part ghost story, part survival narrative.  Brown admits she takes a lot of inspiration from young adult novels – she even mentions one of my all-time favorite books, The Witch Of Blackbird Pond. Probably because, like Brown, I’m not an Austin-ite: “I have this theory that there are two types of bookish girls: Jane Austen-ites and Brönte acolytes,” she says.
• Baby books aren’t something we often discuss here at Literary Traveler, but there is something enchanting about the historic baby books unearthed by the UCLA library and reproduced in this article at the L.A. Times book blog.  Though not technically books – at least not in the way we normally think of them – they are pieces of personal history, a specifically feminine place for the celebration of growth and memory.
• For the first time in years, the New Yorker has published their “20 Under 40″ list, which includes a group of “young writers” in order to offer a “focused look at the talent blooming around us.”  However, as an essay in the New York Times points out, great books by those under 40 are not all that uncommon, and perhaps more importantly, these novels are often the greatest books of their careers.  Authors including Melville, Hemingway, Faulkner, Kafka and Pynchon all wrote their most significant works before the age of 40.  What becomes clear is something that seems almost self evident: Age does not actually matter when it comes to great literature.
• And finally, some light reading for your weekend.  The Passage, a post-apocalyptic novel (with vampires!) is being hailed as the “book of the summer.” Master of horror Stephen King has even voiced his approval for the lengthy tome.  Get yourself to a Barnes & Noble – or risk falling behind on what looks to be the next literary phenomenon.  Worst case scenario?  You can spend all summer expressing your unbiased opinion that it “doesn’t live up to the hype.”   And if you’re more interested in travel than literature, here’s a trip that combines the two (and adds a healthy dose of pop culture): The newly opened Wizarding World of Harry Potter at the Universal Orlando Resort.

Like many children, I used to imagine secretly that I was adopted.  Growing up with two brothers and a tomboy sister, I often felt displaced, as though I had no business being part of the busy crowd that filled our house.  I pretended I was the daughter of explorers, or maybe some sort of brave pioneers, regardless of the fact that this vocation has gone out of fashion.

Reflecting back, I can see now that my fantasies were not born out of a desire to escape, but a need to sculpt my own personal history.  Knowing little about myself, I decided to tie my fate to that of those who came before me.  Time still felt fluid enough to be molded (after reading A Wind At The Door and other books by Madeleine L’Engle, I was firmly convinced that all you needed was a little practice), and history seemed as bendable as a paperback.

As I grew older, I became more interested in my ancestral history – my real history.  People have always identified themselves by their kin, and though we sometimes forget it today, our families are perhaps the single most primitive part of our selves.  One must only read Beowulf to be reminded of the significance of kin (or if you are so inclined, the Bible has quite a bit of this as well).

This week, join us in Italy, where Angela Corrias visits the home of one of Italy’s most appreciated Marxist thinkers, Antonio Gramsci.  Corrias visits his house, speaks with his family, and in doing so, she pulls herself one step closer to understanding both Italian history and her own personal history.  In her quest, she finds much more than fascism and Gramsci’s beloved food; she also finds a piece of herself.  Her article, Beauty, Tradition & Fascism in Antonia Gramsci’s Sardinia, will transport you to the streets of Sardinia, and, we hope, inspire you to do a little soul searching of your own.

Our newest feature article, on Fernando Pessoa, not only made me want to take off for Lisbon, but it also reawakened a train of thought I had shelved since returning from Europe.  I’ve often wondered if people can be broken up into two groups: the travelers and the nesters.  Some people seem best suited to home life.  They know how to enjoy the small pleasures, the ordinary moments of happiness.  They are the reliable ones, settled and stable.  Their lives may not always be happy, but they have a constant – they have a home.  Even when they travel abroad, they are able to experience the seductive lure of a foreign land without being pulled or swayed from their moorings.  Nesters seem to be driven always by an internal compass, one which points towards home.

The other group, the travelers, are restless and without anchor (it seems our writer, Steven Hermans, may fit into this category).  They relentlessly seek new places, experiences, tastes, and people.  They desire motion, continual excitement, rather than the comforts of home.

I believe most of us have fit into both groups at some point in our lives, for these categories aren’t hard and fast.  They’re probably best viewed as phases we slip into at certain points, only to later change allegiance.   In his discussion of Pessoa, Hermans describes the author as of the former group, while he himself falls into the latter.  In an interesting twist, he journeys to Pessoa’s home in order to see how the other half (the nesters) live. Walking along the eerily familiar streets, painted so vividly by Pessoa’s prose, Hermans is able to see the attractions of a room of one’s own – and compare that with the lure of the open road.

This week, we invite homebodies and wanders alike to join us this week in Portugal in Fernando Pessoa’s Lisbon of Disquiet. Perhaps you will recognize something of yourself in Hermans, or perhaps you’re more like Pessoa.  Either way, we promise you’ll leave with some food for thought.

Every Friday, the staff at Literary Traveler gathers up relevant book news from around the web, bringing it together in a handy post for book lovers to peruse.  Enjoy!

• By now, most of us have seen the iPad, Apple’s newest entry into the gizmo canon, but our friends across the pond just got their first look today.  As in America, this has led Brits to ponder the question: Will the iPad lead to a reading revolution? The Guardian ultimately decides that the iPad will be good for readers and writers – not necessarily publishers.  Eventually, the iPad (and the Kindle and the like) will almost certainly change the way we purchase books, but it is not quite clear yet how this will play out, though Stephen Page does have some interesting ideas.
• Allen Ginsberg is best known for his work as a writer, but were you aware he was also a talented photographer?  A voice of the beat generation, Ginsberg was committed to documenting his life through photos, 80 of which are now on show at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.  Curator Sarah Greenough explains that the “same ideas that infuse and invigorate his poetry… all of these things really help to invigorate his photography as well.”  If you’re interested in checking out some of his visual art, click here.
• Like Alison Ford, I’m in complete and total awe of John Basinger, the man who learned every word to Milton’s epic poem Paradise Lost.  Basinger completed his task in 2001, but he can still recite all 12 books on command.  Ford, jealous of Basinger’s success, decided to see what poems she could recall, and the list isn’t particularly long.  Then again, neither is mine (however, I do know every word to “The Road Not Taken” and “Song of the Wandering Aengus.  Though this comes in handy about as often as you may think).  What poems, if any, can you recite?
• Finally, because we’re keeping it short and sweet for the holiday weekend, here are a few recommendations for your beach reading: 1. The L.A. Times bestseller roundup is a great place to start your summer reading list.  It has everything from the fluffy to the slightly-less-so.  2. The New Yorker just published a new piece of short fiction by Jonathan Franzen, titled “Agreeable.”  It’s the perfect Memorial Day read – highbrow enough not to be embarrassing, but interesting enough to keep you engaged.  And with that, have a wonderful holiday, and check in on June 1st for our newest feature article.

Every Friday, the staff at Literary Traveler gathers up relevant book news from around the web, bringing it together in a handy post for book lovers to peruse.  Enjoy!

• Last Friday we sang the praises of visually-striking book covers.  Today we have an article from the Guardian book blog on the importance of cover art – and the pitfalls of a truly bad design.   Stuart Evers discusses his distaste for certain covers (which reminds me of my hatred for the hot pink-meets-high-heels formula that has become the norm for a certain type of “chick lit” novel) and the problems faced by publishers.  “While one can understand the more commercial retailers wishing to stick to a tried and tested formula, I don’t believe this is helping writers or customers.  By packaging everything in the same colours, fonts and images, we lose differentiation,” he writes.
• Similarly, the title of a book can tell us a lot about the contents – or, conversely, it can tell us nothing at all.  Playing on this knowledge, a Twitter meme has recently cropped up, under the hashtag “Lesserbooks,” in which users create new names for old favorites.  A few examples: Of Mice, White Dentures, Dante’s Impala, and my personal favorite, The Lion, The Witch, and the Walk-in Closet.
• Continuing on the same thread is yet another article from the Guardian on the rewriting of classics to include modern elements (like the incredibly popular Pride and Prejudice and Zombies).   Instead of decrying the pop-culturally influenced remakes, Jonathan Wright suggests that this could be a valuable tool for getting people to read Great Books (much like Oprah’s Book Club!).  To make things even more interesting, he nominates a few novels for revamp.  It’s an interesting idea, but part of me wonders, why remake something as classic and stimulating as Nineteen Eighty-Four?
• Jeffrey Brown from PBS recently had the honor of sitting down to an interview with one of my favorite authors: Isabel Allende.  They discuss her new novel, Island Beneath The Sea, which is set in the Caribbean in the early 19th century.  To watch the full interview with the House of Spirits author, go here.
• And more good news for fans of magical realism: Allende’s novel has already made it to No. 4 on the L.A. Times bestseller list. Other newcomers to the list include Rick Riordan, Douglas Preston, and author of the Sookie Stackhouse vampire novels, Charlaine Harris.
• And finally, two fascinating articles to begin the weekend.  First, a 16-year-old published author takes a moment to consider whether age matters in publishing, and to meditate on her own feelings of inadequacy when faced with even younger teenage prodigies.  Second, the Rumpus ponders the first person narrator and praises the fallibly infallible Nick Carraway.  Enjoy your days off, and happy reading!

Every Friday, the staff at Literary Traveler gathers up relevant book news from around the web, bringing it together in a handy post for book lovers to peruse.  Enjoy!

• We’ve all heard the saying, but sometimes you can’t help but judge, especially when the cover art is so visually striking.  The Millions highlights two amazing new cover designs, for wild child Bret Easton Ellis’s new book Imperial Bedrooms and Tom McCarthy’s forthcoming novel C.  Interestingly, neither cover is particularly beautiful, but there is something unexpected and engaging about the aggressive designs.
• When I told my father that this guy, Ray Bradbury, was one of my favorite authors in high school, he said simply, “mine, too.”  Bradbury had a long and very prolific career, and as he nears his 90th birthday, Slate takes a look back at some of his best short stories.  While Bradbury was known primarily for his novels, like Nathaniel Rich, I was always most interested in his quirky, dark short stories.
• Via USA Today: “Move along, Jane Austen. Hollywood is hot for the Brontës again.”  As much as I love Austen and her spunky heroines, I must say I breathed a sigh of relief reading the above sentence.  Not only are British filmmakers working on new versions of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre (which will star Mia Wasikowska, who was amazing in Tim Burton’s recent Alice in Wonderland), but we will also be seeing a big screen biopic.
• Are contemporary novels nothing more than “antediluvian texts” that mimic the writing of those who came before?  Has literature become stagnant, and authors made impotent and unimpressive by “dead rules” of a bygone era?  If writers like David Foster Wallace are anything to go by, I would answer no, but these are the questions being raised by David Shields.  However, Shields’s is only echoing the criticism leveled at the literary world fifty years ago by Alain Robbe-Grillet.  To learn more about his theory of the evolving novel, click here.
• It seems that bad writing is having something of a moment.  But instead of simply snickering at all the horrible entries into our cultural consciousness, GalleyCat, a website that specializes in publishing news, is asking writers to help turn some very bad prose into something far more tolerable.  The book of choice?  Bad writer extraordinaire Horatio Alger’s rags-to-riches novel Joe’s Luck.
• I would like to kick off the weekend with some lighthearted links.  First, we have this ridiculous new blog that has been making the internet rounds all week: Hot Guys Reading Books. While I don’t support objectification, I do love seeing people (especially young men) reading.   And finally, the writers behind the television series Lost reveal their literary influences. If there is one thing I learned from this article, it’s that these scifi guys must have very well-stocked bookcases.  It’s the best of both worlds – pop culture meets good reads – and that’s exactly what I need on a Friday afternoon.

In high school, my favorite teacher, Miss Reynolds, once told our class that F. Scott Fitzgerald was famous for writing “the perfect sentence.”  I knew immediately what she meant.  While some authors are masters of the paragraph, and others shine most strongly with a single phrase, Fitzgerald’s majesty lay between two periods.  He has the rare ability to capture an image – or a feeling – completely within these bounds of punctuation.  Unlike Hemingway, Fitzgerald’s writing tends more towards prolix than terse, yet it is possible to get a real feel for his writing by reading just one of his immaculately-crafted sentences.

I have always felt that Edith Wharton came from the F. Scott Fitzgerald school of writing.  Like Fitzgerald, Wharton uses words to the utmost advantage; she does not let the reader guess at her meaning, but rather paints with phrases, colors and tints our view with her writing.  She has the ability to transport a reader back in time, to the Age of Innocence, or move us through place, to the winding streets of Morocco.

In our newest feature article, writer Inka Piegsa-Quischotte travels through Fez, searching not only for the Morocco of Wharton’s description, but also for a house. She is looking to purchase a mini-palace; a burrow of tiny bedrooms and storage spaces that she can call home.  Like me, Piegsa-Quischotte has been seduced by Wharton’s perfect sentences and her ability to conjure up an entire world through a single phrase.  Clip-clopping on the back of a mule through the covered alleys and tented streets, Piegsa-Quischotte can’t help but remember the poetry of Wharton’s language, and the aptness of her descriptions.

This week, join us in Morocco, where we ride on colorful saddles and smell the many scents of Fez in Pink Saddles & Djellabas, Edith Wharton’s Fez In Morocco. Allow yourself to be guided by Piegsa-Quischotte and her new-found friends as they work their way through a foreign land, searching for beauty and something far more lasting: a room of one’s own.

Every Friday, the staff at Literary Traveler gathers up relevant book news from around the web, bringing it together in a handy post for book lovers to peruse.  Enjoy!

• We’ve seen a lot of interesting writing projects lately – from contests for bad poetry to a compilation of very, very short stories – but this one might just take the cake: Ben Segal and Erinrose Mager are soliciting submissions for The Official Catalog of the Library of Potential Literature. They are asking writers to “imagine that they’ve just read the most amazing book they’ve ever encountered, and then write a brief blurb about the imagined text.”  We can hardly wait to see the results; the fruits of this mental exercise sound like they promise to be rewarding.
• It won’t be a surprise to anyone who has been following this blog that I am a little obsessed with food writing, but as it turns out, I’m not the only one.  Jessica Ferri at The Millions chronicles the various forms of food writing, from evocative passages in novels like Sophie’s Choice to more specifically-oriented food writers like Michael Pollan.  Perhaps the most interesting tidbit has to do with how food writers (and readers) are influenced by the shifting economy.  Find out more here.
• And for another topic we’re naturally interested in, the B&N book blog takes on reading about reading. This delightfully meta activity has been covered by many different authors, but recently literary critic and “the world’s best-known reader” Alberto Manguel has gathered up a collection of his essays in a new book, A Reader on Reading.  Full of interesting quotes and observations (sample: “Karel Capek, in his wonderful book on gardens, says that the art of gardening can be reduced to one rule: you put into it more than you take out. The same can be said of libraries.”) Manguel’s compilation sounds like a must-read.
• Our relationship with books is often shaped by hearing them read aloud.  Like most people, I was introduced to the joy of reading aurally, but as I’ve grown older, I’ve spent far more time considering the printed word than the spoken one.  However, this article, from Jacket Copy makes me reconsider the influence of the author’s voice.  Carolyn Kellogg asks the question: Is David Sedaris really that good?  Or is his popularity due in part to his abilities as a performer?  A longtime fan of Sedaris, I would have to answer (like Kellogg) both.
• And finally, two lighthearted links to start your weekend: 1. Bookslut posted an adorable cartoon that highlights the differences between a Kindle and a “Crappy Paperback” and 2. Check out this incredibly tacky but surprisingly fun “I read banned books” necklace.  Quite the literary fashion statement, if you ask me.

I am, it must be said, a good patriot.  I love my country and adore all things American.  However, America, beautiful as it may be, lacks a certain something. We might have wilderness and amber waves of grain, but our melting pot mentality makes a unified national character somewhat harder to obtain.

Not that I am complaining; I am thoroughly convinced that the United States is one of the most wonderful places in the world.  However, I occasionally feel a certain twinge of jealousy when reading about the historic centers of the so-called Old World.  As much as I adore our purple mountain majesty, I sometimes suspect that Europe has cornered the market on majestic.  There is a grandeur conferred on buildings and squares by age and the slow weathering of time that no amount of modern mechanics can ever recreate.

Today Literary Traveler has added a new feature article to our website, titled Sun & Moon in Montepulciano, Under The Tuscan Sun & New Moon Film Locations. In this piece, writer Deborah Downes journeys to a hill town in southern Tuscany to see the sights immortalized in two famous films.  Both movies (and both books) center around an American woman visiting Italy, traveling through the crowded city streets and learning her way around the new landscape and culture.  Although very different, New Moon and Under the Tuscan Sun share more than just a setting – they also share a sense of adventure, the over-brimming of excitement that comes with the exploration of an ancient place, and the somewhat contradictory feeling that stems from the discovery of something new.

Join us in Italy this May Day by taking a look at our newest feature article.  Not only did Downes teach me a thing or two about Italian history, but she also takes her readers on an imaginative journey through the snaking alleyways and winding streets of Montepulciano.  For those of us unable to travel across the Atlantic, this is the perfect weekend getaway.  Just try not to get lost.

Every Friday, the staff at Literary Traveler gathers up relevant book news from around the web, bringing it together in a handy post for book lovers to peruse.  Enjoy!

• An interesting piece from the Jewish Review of Books asks the question: Why are there so few Jewish fantasy authors?  It’s something I’ve never considered, but considering the Christian allegories in Narnia and the like, it’s certainly worth thinking about.  Michael Weingrad argues, “we should begin by acknowledging that the conventional trappings of fantasy, with their feudal atmosphere and rootedness in rural Europe, are not especially welcoming to Jews, who were too often at the wrong end of the medieval sword.”  More thoughts on the relationship between religion and the fantasty world at The Second Pass.
• Independent publisher Melville House has announced their intention to host an award ceremony for the best and worst book trailers. Book trailers, for those of you who don’t know, are short videos created to promote upcoming books.  Categories include “Best Big Budget Book Trailer,” “Best Cameo in a Book Trailer,” and hilariously, “Least Likely to Actually Sell the Book.”
• One possible contender for the Melville House awards?  Actor Zach Galifianakis, who appeared in the trailer for John Wray’s Lowboy. Galifianakis and Wray humorously switched places in this short video, with the actor portraying the writer and the writer playing a far more chipper Zach.
• In 2006, Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Eat, Pray, Love became an instant hit, a bestseller, and a defining entry in the travel writing-cum-memoir canon.  As you’ve probably heard, the story of Gilbert’s self discovery is being made into a feature film, starring (who else?) America’s sweetheart Julia Roberts.  Roberts talks to the New York Times about the film, which left her “exhausted when it was all done.”  But “I loved every second of it,” she added.
• And finally, start this weekend off right by listening to a bit of poetry. Singer/songwriter Natalie Merchant has done something interesting with her newest album, Leave Your Sleep.  Merchant has taken her favorite poems from childhood and set them to music in such a way that both adults and children can enjoy the resulting lullabies.  She chose works by famous poets (like Robert Graves, E.E. Cummings and even  one from Mother Goose) mixed in with those of lesser-known writers, including Charles Carryl and Lydia Huntley Sigourney.

Every Friday, the staff at Literary Traveler gathers up relevant book news from around the web, bringing it together in a handy post for book lovers to peruse.  Enjoy!

• Today is a day of great literary importance: April 23rd is not only the generally accepted date of William Shakespeare’s birth, it is also the day both William Shakespeare and Miguel de Cervantes died.  Because of the historical significance, UNESCO has declared today “World Book and Copyright Day.”  Celebrate this as you best see fit.
• One possible way: check out Tony Tanner’s Prefaces to Shakespeare. Or, better yet, read one of our many pieces on Shakespeare and travel.  Here is my personal favorite: An Indian Epiphany at Stratford-upon-Avon.
• If that is too highbrow for a Friday, you might be interested in Salon‘s piece on crime fiction and comic books. Or, as some of us like to call them “graphic novels.”
• And while we’re on the topic of illustrated books, it can be fun to remember our favorite books for childhood (or our children’s favorite books!).  American author George Saunders reviews Kashtanka by Anton Chekhov. He writes: “Kashtanka is, it seems to me, the most accurately drawn dog in literature.”
• Attention aspiring poets: The Small Press Distribution Bad Poetry contest ends today! Categories for bad poems hilariously include “worst poem titled ‘Unicorns In Fog’” and “worst poem in the form of a Facebook status update.”
• The Guardian published a fascinating piece on the celebrity-chief memoir. This new genre may just produce my Beach Read Of Choice for this summer.
• And finally, those of you in the Boston area may do well to check out Off The Shelf‘s guide to Boston area author readings. Have a wonderful weekend!