New month, new book

 Earlier this week, The Trollope Society held the final online book club meeting of the novel we'd been reading since the beginning of the year, The Vicar of Bullhampton.  I thoroughly enjoyed the book, which was completely new to me.  Anthony Trollope was an especially prolific writer, so even though I've read his works for many years, there are still many that I have yet to read.  Another such novel is Dr. Wortle's School, which is the next book in the yearlong book club reading list.  This one is a bit shorter, and will be covered in two bi-weekly meetings, as opposed to the six that covered Vicar of Bullhampton.  As I dive into one of Anthony Trollope's last novels, I gather it will cover what was in Victorian times an unpardonable sin:  a man and woman living together, unmarried.  Such a condition is now commonplace, but even still, we have other issues of intolerance and bigotry that are the modern day equivalents of "living in sin".  What lessons will Trollope offer for those who judge and those who are judged by an intolerant society?

The book ration has been increased

 As much as I enjoy chocolate, my passion for books is far stronger.  So the library collection grew once again this week as I received my signed, numbered copy of 1984, by George Orwell.  As I mentioned a few days ago, this is a special limited edition volume published by The Folio Society on the 75th anniversary of the first release of the novel.  Despite its scandalously inflated price, I couldn't resist ordering my own copy of a book that means so much to me.  Even though my recent experiences with various shipping services such as UPS and USPS has been lackluster, FedEx conveyed my copy to me here in central Alabama from London, England in astonishingly fast fashion - arriving a day earlier than scheduled.  (Yes, FedEx delivering a book about intrusive surveillance is full of irony.)  Upon opening the package, I found an impressively well crafted tome, just as I would expect from Folio.  It is a top quality example of the bookbinder's art and includes artwork from illustrator La Boca and a forward by Turkish author Elif Shafak.  The book and beautiful barn door slipcase are largely hand crafted in a meticulous fashion, as shown in the video below.  To a book enthusiast like me, this is all an irresistible combination.  The pleasure of fine literature is always enhanced by luxury bookbinding.

Somebody's always watching me

 And interesting confluence of items crossed my desk yesterday.  First was an advertising email from The Folio Society, a purveyor of luxury editions of classic books.  They've recently released a limited edition of 1984, by George Orwell on the 75th anniversary of its first publication.  The landmark novel is one I have had repeated experiences with.  I was required to read it in high school, at a time when I couldn't yet fully comprehend its message.  I read it later as an adult and appreciated the dystopian tale much more.  Then in 2017, I attended a Broadway theater production of 1984, just as the full Orwellian nature of the Trump administration was becoming understood.  The loss of objective truth, the populist authoritarianism, the memory holes, and the doublespeak ("alternative facts" was an early feature of those dark years) was damage that the country still is dealing with.  The Broadway stage version of 1984 was as shocking and provocative as live theater could possibly be, and as gloomy and foreboding as Orwell must have intended.  Having experienced the show and having lived through the (hopefully only) Trump term, I will be forever changed.  So with that in mind, I ordered a copy of the new book, bibliophilic prole that I am.  More on that in a later post.

Concurrently with all that, I read an article in the Washington Post that describes a formal surveillance program of the US Postal System.  The so-called "mail covers program" allows the tracking of postal mail to and from targeted individuals, with little regulation or oversight.  Back when mail was still a primary mode of individual communication, and the Fourth Amendment of the Constitution was still respected, detailed laws were put in place to require warrants to open mail.  But merely monitoring and recording addresses of mail to a specific person requires very little formal approval.  Without warrants or judicial approval, law enforcement agencies of all descriptions can request the USPS to monitor the mailboxes of targeted individuals, which it does with little resistance.  Despite the Post's recent article, this is not a new practice.  In 2013, the mail surveillance of award-winning author William Vollmann was described in an article in Harper's Magazine.  Vollmann had mistakenly fallen under suspicion by the FBI of being a suspect in the Unabomber bombings.  His mail was tracked - and indeed opened - for years before his innocence was demonstrated by the brother of the actual Unabomber, who recognized his manifesto.  This is a sobering reminder for a snail mail aficionado like me, who likes to believe that old-fashioned physical letters escape some of the privacy concerns of online digital communication.  Indeed, I can't help wondering if my innocent personal correspondence with iconoclastic individuals like publisher Fred Woodworth has landed me on some watch list.  Woodworth himself has often written about incidences of FBI harassment in his own long publishing career.  The truth is evident: 75 years later, Big Brother is still watching.

Time Machine

 My day job as a research scientist, while very fulfilling, can often be repetitive, quiet, and solitary.  This lends itself to my heavy reliance on audio books to occupy my mind during the day's tasks.  Currently I am listening to The Duke's Children, by Anthony Trollope.  I am very partial to the English Victorian novelists, including Charles Dickens, Thomas Hardy, George Eliot, Trollope. Trollope was unique among them as he continued his day job while also being a prolific novelist: he was a senior official in the Royal Mail postal system.  In fact, he is responsible for the design of the characteristic English pillarbox mail collection box.  Therefore, many of his novels have characters writing letters which he describes in much more detail than any other author might.  As a postal enthusiast, I find this especially interesting.

The Duke's Children, by Anthony Trollope.  Folio Society edition.

My first venture into the tale of the Duke of Omnium was, however, not an audio book but a conventional paper one.  While I read the story, it struck me that though this was a common book, it was in a sense a time machine.  Somewhere in London two hundred years ago, a man sat at a table with a simple fountain pen, ink, and some paper.  With that and nothing more than his own creativity and imagination, he created the complex and elaborate world of the former Prime Minister of England and his family's dramas.  Copies of his writings were made by a then-painstaking printing process, and today are made by a more high-tech one.  As I read my book, I experienced in vivid detail the lifestyle of those who lived centuries ago.  Their speech, values, and daily activities were all brought forth to myself, living in the digital world of the 21st century.  Through a humble and simple book, a man's artistic skill and his contemporary lifestyle could be experienced by a modern reader.  Almost directly from his pen into my mind, 200 years later.  An astonishing achievement.

And if one is to read, why not do it with a little style?  The volume of this novel I read a few years ago was published by The Folio Society, a publisher who specializes in classics, printed and bound with extraordinary quality.  No cheap paperback, this.  My numbered, limited edition copy of Trollope's work was leatherbound, with handmade marbled endpapers and a high quality sewn binding.  It also was a complete version, restoring all the extensive text that Trollope grudgingly cut from his original manuscript in order to fit size requirements of his publishers at the time.  A companion text by a literary scholar is included, all contained in a hard slipcover.  As I say, if one reads, an elegant edition makes it all the more enjoyable.

While I enjoyed this novel the first time in its intended form, I now am re-reading (listening) to it via audio book.  This adds an additional layer of interpretation to the process, removing oneself slightly from direct commune with the author.  An audio book narrator can make or break the whole experience, but I have found one of the best.  When I obtain my audio books, my preference is for those read by Simon Vance.  He is simply the best.  A pleasant speaking voice, remarkable ability to give different voices to different characters' dialog, and an astonishing acting ability make him a leader in the field of audio book narration.