Este número presenta una densidad de artículos interesantes realmente notable. En lo que respecta al tema de este blog, hay que destacar la presencia de un Cuaderno dedicado a la transición digital, compilado por Manuel Gil. Hemos seleccionado trece extractos de sus respectivos artículos, y empezaremos con una cita de la introducción de Manuel Gil:
Nuestro sector continúa sufriendo de algunas señas de identidad que ni cambian ni evolucionan: opacidad, secretismo, reservas… Si los nuevos actores digitales las adoptan y mantienen, nos tememos lo peor. Seguimos teniendo carencias y problemas graves para una transición digital ordenada y bien meditada, es preocupante la ausencia de plataformas digitales compartidas por libreros y editores independientes en un escenario en el que, todo parece indicar, los mercados generalistas se moverán en abanicos cuasi monopólicos.
Y este es el contenido del Cuaderno:
- Convergencias y divergencias entre libros (en papel y digital) Luis Collado
Nos han enseñado a comprar aparatos, pero ¿quién se ha encargado de enseñarnos dónde encontrar un sitio para comprar un e-book?, ¿dónde conseguir información, ¿cuál es el mejor sitio, en el que mejor me tratan, más conocen mis gustos y más información y más adecuada a mí mismo me facilitan?
- Grandes oportunidades, enormes desafíos Patricia Arancibia
En los Estados Unidos, donde vivo hace 11 años, se ve a las Américas como una oportunidad […] En cambio, en Argentina […] los editores a menudo hablan del mercado latinoamericano más por sus escollos que por sus oportunidades.
Siempre produce alegría que te llame tu editor (Manuel Ortuño) para decirte que tus libros están disponibles ya en formato digital (ePub y Mobi), en la red de Libranda (72 librerías nacionales y 19 internacionales, incluyendo iBookstore), en Amazon y en Google Play. Si los autores ponemos el texto, el papel del editor es aportar el contexto. Tanto El paradigma digital y sostenible del libro (Trama, 2011), como El nuevo paradigma del sector del libro (Trama 2008), están ya a disposición del público. Me alegro especialmente por el público latinoamericano, donde estos libros han tenido una extraordinaria acogida, pero las dificultades para conseguirlos (a precios razonables) era un suplicio.
|An 1894 drawing of Willesden Green Library|
But it was still very nice. Willesden French Market sells cheap bags. It sells CDs of old time jazz and rock ‘n’ roll. It sells umbrellas and artificial flowers. It sells ornaments and knick-knacks and doo dahs, which are not always obviously French in theme or nature. It sells water pistols. It sells French breads and pastries for not much more than you’d pay for the baked goods in Gregg’s down Kilburn High Road. It sells cheese, but of the decently priced and easily recognizable kind—brie, goat’s, blue—as if the market has traveled unchanged across the channel from some run-down urban suburb of Paris. Which it may have done for all I know.
The key thing about Willesden’s French Market is that it accentuates and celebrates this concrete space in front of Willesden Green Library Centre, which is at all times a meeting place, though never quite so much as it is on market day. Everybody’s just standing around, talking, buying or not buying cheese, as the mood takes them. It’s really pleasant. You could almost forget Willesden High Road was ten yards away. This matters. When you’re standing in the market you’re not going to work, you’re not going to school, you’re not waiting for a bus. You’re not heading for the tube or shopping for necessities. You’re not on the high road where all these activities take place. You’re just a little bit off it, hanging out, in an open air urban area, which is what these urban high streets have specifically evolved to stop people doing.
Everybody knows that if people hang around for any length of time in an urban area without purpose they are likely to become “anti-social.” And indeed there were four homeless drunks sitting on one of the library’s strange architectural protrusions, drinking Special Brew. Perhaps in a village they would be sitting under a tree, or have already been driven from the area by a farmer with a pitchfork. I do not claim to know what happens in villages. But here in Willesden they were sat on their ledge and the rest of us were congregating for no useful purpose in the unlovely concrete space, simply standing around in the sunshine, like some kind of community. From this vantage point we could look ahead to the turrets, or left to the Victorian police station (1865), or right to the half-ghostly façade of the Spotted Dog (1893).
We could have a minimal sense of continuity with what came before. Not so much as the people of Hampstead must have, to be sure, or the folk who live in pretty market towns all over the country, but here and there in Willesden the past lingers on. We’re glad that it does. Which is not to say that we are overly nostalgic about architecture (look at the library!) but we find it pleasant to remember that we have as much right to a local history as anyone, even if many of us arrived here only recently and from every corner of the globe.
On market day we permit ourselves the feeling that our neighborhood, for all its catholic mix of people and architecture, remains a place of some beauty that deserves minimal preservation and care. It’s a nice day out, is my point. Still, there’s only so long a toddler will stand around watching her grandmother greet all the many people in Willesden her grandmother knows. My daughter and I took a turn. You can’t really take a turn in the high road so we went backwards, into the library centre. Necessarily backward in time, though I didn’t—couldn’t—bore my daughter with my memories: she is still young and below nostalgia’s reach. Instead I will bore you. Studied in there, at that desk. Met a boy over there, where the phone boxes used to be. Went, with school friends, in there, to see The Piano and Schindler’s List (cinema now defunct) and afterward we went in there, for coffee (café now defunct) and had an actual argument about art, an early inkling that there might be a difference between a film with good intentions and a good film.
Meanwhile my daughter is running madly through the centre’s esplanade, with another toddler who has the same idea. And then she reverses direction and heads straight for Willesden Green Book Shop, an independent shop that rents space from the council and provides—no matter what Brent Council, the local government for the London borough of Brent, may claim—an essential local service. It is run by Helen. Helen is an essential local person. I would characterize her essentialness in the following way: “Giving the people what they didn’t know they wanted.” Important category. Different from the concept popularized by Mr Murdoch: giving the people what they want. Everyone is by now familiar with the Dirty Digger’s version of the social good—we’ve had thirty years of it. Helen’s version is different and necessarily perpetrated on a far smaller scale.
Helen gives the people of Willesden what they didn’t know they wanted. Smart books, strange books, books about the country they came from, or the one that they’re in. Children’s books with children in them that look at least a bit like the children who are reading them. Radical books. Classical books. Weird books. Popular books. She reads a lot, she has recommendations. Hopefully, you have a Helen in a bookshop near you and so understand what I’m talking about. In 1999 I didn’t know I wanted to read David Mitchell until Helen pointed me to Ghostwritten. And I have a strong memory of buying a book by Sartre here, because it was on the shelf and I saw it. I don’t know how I could have known I wanted Sartre without seeing it on that shelf—that is, without Helen putting it there. Years later, I had my book launch in this bookshop and when it got too full, mainly with local friends of my mother, we all walked up the road to her flat and carried on over there.
Seguir leyendo artículo completo…
Desde el pasado mes de mayo, Trama editorial cuenta ya con la nueva edición electrónica de la Revista Texturas. Asi que ya no hay excusa. Pasen y disfruten.
Disponible en la página de Trama editorial
Para los adictos al mundo Apple, en el Ibook Store contamos con algunos títulos de la colección Tipos Móviles: “Paradigma digital y sostenible del libro”, “Éxito”, “Nuevo paradigma del sector del libro”. Además de los títulos top ventas de la editorial.
Entrevista a Robert Darnton
Noemí Pes Escofet
Arantxa Mellado Bataller
Entrevista a Lorenzo Soccavo
Sophie Dubec & Raphaël Denys
Nuria Rita Sebastián
Manuel Dávila Galindo Olivares
Iñaki Vázquez Álvarez
Entrevista a Alberto Vitale
Joana Costa Knufinke
La sargento Margaret
Libros y blogs
Chain stores, Amazon and eBooks haven’t managed to kill off the independent bookshops … not in London anyway. Though inevitably, there have been some closings, a good number of small (and not so small) independently-owned bookshops continue to delight bibliophiles from all over the world. These havens from the “madding crowd” are staffed by attentive men and women who are passionate about books and have actually read the volumes they recommend. Whether browsing for yourself or looking for a unique gift (and not just of the literary kind – think perfume, original artwork and customized maps, among other things), the bookshops I’ve come across in London will not disappoint.
Below are my favorite ones – a dozen in all. The list is by no means exhaustive, however, and there is even a map that points out the locations of many more. A quick perusal of thelondonbookshopmap.org shows the breadth and depth of literary choices that abound in this erudite city.
10 Curzon Street, Mayfair
Tel: +44 (0)20 7629 0647, heywoodhill.com
The blue commemorative Nancy Mitford plaque and the Royal Warrant appointing Heywood Hill as booksellers “to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.”
Nancy Mitford and Heywood Hill – their gossipy, witty letters attest to their close friendship which lasted until Nancy Mitford’s death.
Celebrating its 76th anniversary this year, Heywood Hill’s eponymous Mayfair shop has been known as the “society bookshop” ever since the well-connected Nancy Mitford joined its ranks in 1942 during World War II. When her legion of friends were in London on leave from military duty, they would lunch at their club and then totter up to Heywood Hill on Curzon Street for a good gossip and to find out what to read.
The shop’s role as a gathering place for social and literary discourse continues to this day, enhanced by its gregarious majority shareholder, Peregrine Cavendish, the 12th Duke of Devonshire, and charming Managing Director, Nicky Dunne, the Duke’s son-in law. Its customer base is vast and varied. Queen Elizabeth II has been buying books from Heywood Hill for a number of years now. Indeed, last year, the shop was awarded a coveted Royal Warrant. Heywood Hill is also beloved by many Americans, catering to about 500 American account customers alone.
|Nicky Dunne, Heywood Hill’s Managing Director.|
There are a few things which distinguish Heywood Hill from its competitors. First, true to its social reputation, its book launches are often big parties held in picturesque venues all across London. Not long ago, I attended one for Deborah Cavendish, the dowager Duchess of Devonshire at the beautiful Garrick Club, where Camilla Parker Bowles was among the guests.
|The inviting back room at Heywood Hill|
Second, it provides a couple of unusual services which make for great gifts. Signing up for its Children’s Service results in the shop sending one book per month to the designated child. The child’s name is inscribed inside the books and they arrive beautifully wrapped. This is an affordable and popular service among grandparents and godparents alike.
And, for the man (or woman) who has everything, there’s the (rather more expensive) Subject Service which results in the creation of a “wall of books” on a particular subject. Say your loved one is passionate about fishing or sailing or gardening – Heywood Hill will source 300 – 400 books on that topic, produce a catalog and commission a notable author to write an introduction to the collection. What more could a bibliophile want?
|Some Winston Churchill first editions. Heywood Hill is also an antiquarian bookshop|
Well, if it’s a whole library you’re hankering after, the shop is well equipped to offer guidance with that too, having created “gentlemen’s libraries” all over the world.
The London Library – the world’s largest independent lending library – together with Heywood Hill, form “two of the bastions of the printed word in Mayfair” according to Nicky Dunne. Heywood Hill sponsors the “London Library Literary Award” in recognition of “a lifetime of contribution to the enjoyment of good books.” The winner receives £10,000.
123 Gloucester Road, South Kensington
Tel: +44 (0)20 7370 3503, foxedbooks.com
Slightly Foxed used to be a second-hand bookshop, owned by Graham Greene’s nephew. Today, it sells an eclectic range of current fiction and non-fiction titles.
Slightly Foxed is run by a Heywood Hill alumnus, Tony Smith. Not only is Tony extremely knowledgeable and passionate about books and thus, adept at creating libraries (and is called upon with some regularity to do so), but he will also go to great lengths to secure virtually any special request. If, for instance, you must lay your hands on a uniform edition of Roald Dahl’s collected works in pristine condition for your precious little ones, Tony is your man.
|Tony Smith, Slightly Foxed’s dapper manager. Displayed behind him is a collection of tea towels on offer amidst the books.|
The shop is publisher-driven, owned by Slightly Foxed: the Real Reader’s Quarterly, a well-regarded and beautifully printed book review which remains “unaffected by the winds of fashion and the hype of the big publishers,” and strives to introduce “its readers to some of the thousands of good books that long ago disappeared from the review pages and often from bookshop shelves.” Given the Quarterly’s mission then, it’s not surprising that the shop’s collection of general fiction and non-fiction titles is well edited. Not to be missed at Slightly Foxed is its antidote to the eBook – its “Charming Section” – replete with books that are well … charming, either by virtue of their covers or illustrations.
|Some literature-inspired mugs also available for sale – perfect for some afternoon tea|
|The “Charming Section” at Slightly Foxed.|
21 Kensington Park Road, Notting Hill
Tel: +44 (0)20 7229 1010, lutyensrubinstein.co.uk
|Artwork and books on display.|
Lutyens & Rubinstein has been a hit in its chic Notting Hill enclave ever since it opened its doors a few years ago. Owned by two literary agents, the pretty shop delights not only with its careful selection of fiction, non-fiction, art and children’s books, but also with its merchandise. Proffers include a selection of locally made jams and honey as well as CB I Hate Perfume, a range of perfumes by the Brooklyn-based Christopher Brosius, a former New York City cab driver. His award-winning, natural-smelling fragrances have evocative names like “In the Library” and “Burning Leaves.”
4 Blenheim Crescent, Notting Hill
Tel: +44 (0)20 7221 1992, booksforcooks.com
|The shop front in an appetizing red.|
|The test kitchen – small in size, but not in output.|
|A sampling of the shop’s own cookbooks showcasing the most successful recipes tested in its kitchen.|
83 Marylebone High Street, Marylebone
Tel: +44 (0)20 7224 2295, dauntbooks.co.uk
|The back of the shop is light-filled due to its large stained glass window and beautiful skylights.|
|Daunt Books is partial to four-legged creatures. Clixby, pictured above, is peacefully waiting for his master to finish browsing through the shelves. The four-year-old golden beauty has been frequenting the shop since he was a puppy.|
134 Regent’s Park Road
Tel: +44 (0)20 7586 2022, primrosehillbooks.com
|Some of the advance uncorrected proof copies publishers have sent to Primrose Hill Books. They are considered with great care when it comes time to decide which books to buy for the shop.|
|Primrose Hill’s picturesque Regent’s Park Road, the hub of this “urban village.”|
|Regents Park Road is lined with pretty shops and cafés.|
|This book just about sums it up.|
|These telephone booths in Primrose Hill are an endangered species, driven to near extinction by mobile phones.|
113-119 Charing Cross Road, Soho
Tel: +44 (0)20 7437 5660, foyles.co.uk
|The extensive foreign language department at Foyles even carries Latin translations of Harry Potter and Winnie the Pooh.|
12-14 Long Acre, Covent Garden
Tel: +44 (0)20 7836 1321, stanfords.co.uk
|Stanfords is known for its wide selection of globes|
|Reproductions of vintage tube maps.|
10 Blacklands Terrace, Chelsea
Tel: +44(0)20 7589 9473, johnsandoe.com
|Books cover every available surface at John Sandoe.|
|The view from the second floor.|
14 Bury Place, Bloomsbury
Tel: +44 (0)20 7269 9030, lrbshop.co.uk
|The London Review Bookshop covers a wide range of topics.|
|The LRB Cake Shop is a popular neighborhood hangout due to its freshly made sandwiches, salads and desserts.|
|John Creasey, Manager of the London Review Bookshop.|
159 Lamb’s Conduit Street, Bloomsbury
Tel: +44 (0)20 7242 9292, persephonebooks.co.uk
|The shop occupies a building built in 1702-03.|
|Persephone’s unique-looking books.|
|The shop also sells titles put out by other publishers which fit into its catalog.|
|Cushions inspired by period fabrics and vintage posters at Persephone.|
|Colorful crockery on offer at Persephone Books.|
|A shabby chic corner.|
|A flower shop on picturesque Lamb’s Conduit Street.|
Tel: +44 (0)20 7439 9921, hatchards.co.uk
Fecha de Edición: 01/10/2008
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