I have to read more Samuel R. Delany. Last night I read his short story "Driftglass," which was quite fine. It didn't end on exactly the right note, but otherwise built a believable world and main character and held to its tone. A few times, the writing became overly precious or self-conscious. I'm also reading Nabokov's Pnin, where half the point is in the writing itself, but somehow his excesses aren't excesses; it's clearly established that it's a first-person narrative voice functioning like an omniscient narrator, and it's a winning, funny voice that fits the pedantry of its subject. Though Delany comes across as an excellent writer, in spots I less appreciated the writing than simply felt it obtrude into the narrative, whereas Nabokov's whole style has to do with a hyper-present narrator. Reading more Delany (I have his collection Aye, and Gomorrah, and Other Stories) is called for.
I have a vivid memory of being a teenager in the Paperback Booksmith (Oxford Valley Mall, Pennsylvania) and looking with fascination at the covers of Delany's novels Dhalgren and Triton--but finding them somehow too daunting to buy.
9 comments:
Hi William,
I used to work at the Paperback Booksmith in Oxford Valley Mall while I was in High School (Pennsbury). I wonder if we might have crossed paths? What years did you shop there? I was there from '79 through '82, then again for the summer of '83. Small world...
Mike G.
Mike,
I bet our paths did cross (though the only people I remember working there were an older Jewish couple). I graduated from Council Rock in '80, but came back in the summers; I'm sure my high-traffic years at PB were in the '70s.
Didn't run track or x-country, did you?
Cool connection.
Bill
And how'd you stumble on this site, Mike?
I was actually trying to see if PB was still around. Steven Wolk, my boss, was a good guy and I was interested in looking him up (no luck so far). The older couple was his parents, Sam and Tilly. His Uncle Ben worked there, too - a very funny guy in his own right. I really loved working there. I graduated Pennsbury in '82 and ran track for just my sophomore year (at Charles Boehm) in '79-80.
--Mike G.
Mike,
I see from an article in Publisher's Weekly that PB is defunct, gone the way of other regional bookstores. Is it just my distorted memory, or did the shelves in that place go up really high? I don't remember ladders or steps up to high shelves, but my recollection of the place is that it was tall and narrow, the opposite of whatever was on the mall's second floor (Waldenbooks?), which was deep and wide.
I guess we wouldn't have crossed paths on the track. I'm pretty sure I was busy with film club and theater my senior year in the spring, when you were running.
Hi Bill,
The shelves did go up pretty high, but that was for "overstock" - the extra inventory above the shelves customers could reach. Actually, that reminds me of a little inside joke that Steve and I used to have. He had ordered way too much of a book called "The Late Great Planet Earth", so we always had a ton of it in overstock. As he was leaving for the day, Steve would usually say to me, "Mike, better check the overstock for "Late Great Planet Earth..." Not the kind of joke that'll bring down the house, but it still makes me smile 30 years down the road.
Waldenbooks was indeed our competitor at the mall. We were the small, narrow, oak-shelved David to their larger, more-sterile, big-chain-store Goliath. We always thought customers liked us better because we were more personal and friendly. Maybe that's just how we viewed things.
Hey, were you a frequent visitor to Space Port, the cave-like arcade upstairs? All of my breaks were spent there - as was most of the money I earned at the bookstore. Zaxxon, Qbert, Qix, Tempest, Marble Madness - those were my best games. How 'bout you?
--Mike
Our lives may have come in closer contact than we'd realized: Having been raised in an evangelical household, I bought The Late Great Planet Earth at PB. A few days later, I had it with me when we stopped at the mall again. I browsed PB, and as I was leaving, I was grabbed by . . . maybe Tilly. She and Sam thought I'd stolen the book. (I didn't break the backs of books, so nothing I purchased looked like it had been read.) I think I just had to cool my heels until my parents showed up (they'd often plan to meet me at the bookstore after their shopping). This must have been 1979, when they rereleased that book because of the film version. I remember my mother talking to the Wolks about the book (and probably trying to convert them). Maybe they ordered so many because my mother convinced them to . . . I see from online sources that it was the biggest seller of the '70s. Anyway, I happened to have that book with me again (I never read the whole thing) when I went for an interview in Philly for a slot at Northwestern. The interviewer asked me about the book, and I think I told him the PB story as well as what I thought of the book. The darned thing may have helped me get into Northwestern.
I definitely liked PB better, especially after I'd broken the ice with the Wolks (since they found I wasn't a petty thief!). Waldenbooks was an aesthetic horror. The only thing I ever bought from them was, when I was younger, Three Investigators mysteries.
Space Port!! That's what that thing was called! I know I liked Asteroids (which, before the arcades, had been findable sitting out in the open at the Neshaminy Mall as well as the Ox). Also . . . Galaga? With turning color wheels and a ship stuck in the middle? My father and I would play air hockey. And there was some game where you'd sit . . . that's all I remember about it at the moment. You kind of spun the seat around to get in and out. Was it in some kind of cabin?
Bill
Mike,
I think we worked together at PB. I was just poking around to see if I could find Steve Wolk and hit
this site. Any luck finding him?
Pretty funny coincidence -- my son and I were watching "Top 100 Video Games" shows this past weekend.
Asteroids was on the list, so I had to tell him about playing it at Space Port.
Tim
Since Mike last checked in two years ago, he's never going to notice your post (and I have no idea how to contact him; the link on his name goes to an unused site).
Ah, Space Port . . . Whoa. I just had an olfactory memory of the place. There was some odd smell as you entered, the smell of the dark carpet I think.
Best wishes,
Bill
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