Showing posts with label Book Soup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Soup. Show all posts

Monday, February 24, 2025

Sonya Walger, in Conversation with Tosh Berman, discusses her novel "Lion"

 

An engrossing work of autobiographical fiction about the relationship between an actress daughter and her larger-than-life father--the astonishingly assured debut novel of Sonya Walger, actress on Lost, For All Mankind, and more.

Lion is about an unlikely parent, more legend than presence in his daughter's life. He is a charismatic, dashing bon-vivant, a polo player, race car driver, cocaine addict, ex-con, pilot, and sky-diver. Born in the aftershocks of Argentina's greatest earthquake, he is like a minor god who comes down to earth in a grand manner, falling in all the ways there are to fall.

"It is hard to compete with adrenalin when you are a child," his daughter writes, now a mother herself to young children whose settled upbringing prompts her to consider her unconventional youth and the source of its chaos, her, by turns, loving, maddening, and magnetic father.

Lion is a double portrait told in a perpetual present tense that moves back and forth between present-day Los Angeles, where the narrator lives with her family and works as an actress, and the past of her peripatetic childhood, spent shuttling between her mother in England, boarding school, and her father and his successive wives in Buenos Aires and Lima.

Sonya Walger's stunning autobiographical debut is an emotionally acute palimpsest of a novel about a father and daughter, in which the drama and incident, love and tragedy that make up his life make up hers as well. The legend of his life and her distinctive and imaginatively charged telling of it make for an engrossing and unforgettable family saga.

Event date: 
Tuesday, March 4, 2025 - 7:00pm

Event address: 
Book Soup
8818 Sunset Boulevard
West HollywoodCA 90069

Saturday, January 23, 2021

January 23, 2021, by Tosh Berman

 


January 23, 2021

When I worked at Book Soup, Jeanne Moreau was in the store, looking at books and wandering around the store. As I watched her from a distance, as I was behind the bookstore counter, it reminded me of her walking around Paris in the Louis Malle film Ascenseur pour l’échafaud (Elevator to the Gallows). She occasionally picked up a book to look at its cover, open it, read silently, and then placed it exactly where she found it. It took me a few minutes, but then I notice that a cameraman was shooting her while she walked around the store. One needs permission to shoot in the store, and it was my duty as an employee to either stop the shooting or tell the manager. On the other hand, it is Jeanne Moreau in one's store, and who am I to tell her to stop filming. 

I didn't approach her or the cameraman, but I walked toward her like I was looking for a customer's book. You see, I can also act or perform in front of a camera, which I may have in this situation, but in my head. Jeanne may have been thinking of the same scene in the Malle film, and I'm her partner, following her in the streets of Paris. It's odd dancing in private, in front of customers buying and looking at books. None recognize her, and clearly, they didn't know what I was thinking or doing. At this moment, I wanted to put on the soundtrack to "Elevator to the Gallows" by Miles Davis. If I did that, would she catch on that she's discovered filming in the store? Or someone there recognizes her? 

She eventually went out of the store and looked at our display window. The cameraman shot her through the window, and Jeanne paid attention to the books, but then her eyes showed boredom and moved on down the street. The cameraman left the store as well, following Jeanne on the road. I stayed in the store and was behind the counter again. 

Saturday, January 16, 2021

The Important Albums for Tosh in 1988

 




1988 was an explosive year for me. A good year actually. I got a job at Book Soup, as well as curating a film series at Beyond Baroque. And the big news for that year was I got married. The thought of getting married in January of that year would seem impossible. But I met Lun*na, and we connected immediately and got married on December 24, 1988. An exhilarating year! On the other hand, the music world was boring to me. Hip-Hop was hitting the mainstream, as well as Sunset Strip Hair bands. At least I had the misery of Morrissey's first solo album, which was a surprise how good it is. One commonly thought if Johnny Marr is not in the picture, then the Morrissey world will collapse. This was not the case. I'm one of the few who actually prefers the Solo Morrisey material to The Smiths. Wire I followed closely, but not always knocked by their albums, except for "Chairs Missing," which is brilliant. But I do love, "A Bell is a Cup." Straightforward and interesting sounds. Nick Cave is someone I admire but never loved his work. Except for his song "The Mercy Seat, which to this day, I think is his most magnificent song and performance. Sadly, I think it was only these three new albums that impacted me in the year 1988. I must have been buying 12" remixes of The Associates, but not sure. Still, 1988 was a mega-change for me in my personal life. 1989 will be even more dramatic. -Tosh Berman

Sunday, April 12, 2020

April 12, 2020 (In The Year of the Trump Virus)

April 12, 2020 (In The Year of the Trump Virus)

Oddly enough, I feel at ease being alone here with Lun*na.  I enjoy the hours of solitude and being at home.  As well as e-mailing and texting friends to see how they are holding up.  Some get back to me right away, and others, after a week, I haven't heard a squeak from them.  Which is OK, because it means that they are not feeling well, or doing what I do for a hobby.  Which is to shop for food online, and being consistently frustrated in not only getting the food I desire but also no window for deliveries.  It's ironic for a few decades now, we have been sold that Amazon is the answer to our shopping needs, yet, it is this website that now disappoints us in a very frustrating matter. Ironically, I can locate and find the rarest album in a $10 range on the far reaches of the Internet, yet, I'm a total failure in obtaining toilet paper.

It is also strange that I got a writing job during lock-up, and it's a fascinating project.  I can't talk too much about it, because it is at the very start of this exciting proposal, but I have to do a lot of research, and that is enjoyable to me.  It keeps me occupied and not think about the daily grind of everyday life in the Year of the Trump Virus.  Still, I had to refresh my grocery list on an hour-by-hour basis.

Life has drastically changed for a lot of people, but for Lun*na not that huge of a change and me, due that we always work from home, when we can.  Money is still a problem for us, and ever since I left the bookstore work at Book Soup, it has been a struggle.  Once I left the store, I decided to become a full-time writer. In the power of Positive Thinking frame-of-mind, I kept to my promise.  What is extremely difficult is being the sole family member taking care of my aging mom and Uncle.  They are OK, but there is always the fear of the shoe falling off, and I trained myself to be alert and ready for any emergency.  Even that, my first thought is to go to them, but the truth is that it is too dangerous.  I try to make sure that they can get help from professionals when the need is upon them.

Before the Trump Virus hit Los Angeles, I was working part-time at Artbook at Hauser & Wirth.  I had to be laid off during the crisis, which is understandable to me.  I asked my manager if I can do volunteer work from home, and I have been organizing friends and artists that I admire, to put together a reading list so that we can put it on our Artbook web page.   Lots of indie bookstores are on Bookshop.org, and I beg you to all buy books from this website, which promises to be the alternative version of Amazon.  All you need to do is type your favorite bookstore, and it will take you to their order page.  It's essential that you must feed your stomach, but you also have to feed your mind.  Reading right now is one of the best things one can do to fight the boredom or anxiety of being contained in one's home or space.

Yesterday afternoon Kimley and I put together another podcast episode of Book Musik, where we discuss various books on music.  The subject matter is David Bowie's Diamond Dogs, and it's a book written by Glen Hendler and published by 33 1/3 Books.  That episode will be up on April 15.  We both need to keep up with this show, not only to entertain you, dear listeners but also to keep a schedule - the purpose of doing something positive.

I hope all of you are having a lovely holiday today, and remember never to lose your sense of the absurd or humor.  I'll be seeing you. -Tosh Berman

Saturday, March 21, 2020

March 20, 2020 (In The Year of the Trump Virus)

March 20, 2020 (In the year of the Trump Virus)

I just delivered my mom some bread that we had in the fridge as well as a bottle of wine. I left it on her front porch, walked away to the street, and then called her to come out to pick up the package. She came out, I waved, and then got into the car and left. I was going to do a significant shopping for her (as well as for us), but I presume that the food markets will be intensely busy, and decided to go later in the day, or within a few days. Both my mom, Uncle, and his mate, and yours truly have food in our houses for at least the end of this week. My thinking is to avoid panic buying or avoid other panic-buyers. 
My mood is not on the bottom floor, but somewhere in the middle of the building, perhaps on the sixth-floor. It's either here or there. I was laid off work yesterday, and all I have read is how many people lost their jobs in the past 24-hours. I'm not angry whatsoever, just disappointed because I enjoy this part (really part)-time job greatly. It's a bookstore, and like the other bookstores in the Los Angeles area such as Skylight Books and Book Soup (my old residence) is fully closed until further news. Libraries, my second home, is closed as well. Well, everything is closed that's emotionally important to me. Essential is more body-based, such as eating for survival, and emotional are all the fun shops. 
I spend my time writing and reading the current issue of MOJO Magazine (good article on Jimi Hendrix's last days) as well as a big biography on the legendary surfer Mikki Dora. When I take my baths, I read Cornelius Cardew's "Stockhausen Serves Imperialism." Cardew was an English composer who studied under Stockhausen as well as exploring the works of John Cage. Somewhere down the line, Cardew became a hardened Leftist and denounced Stockhausen and Cage. It's a fascinating read. I have always had a soft spot for individuals who are extremists. Which, in this time and age, makes many nervous. 
I'm a prisoner in our home, and it's not unusual for me to spend days at a time working and living in this space. So, I don't have any problem staying at home, especially when a library and records surround me. Depression does sneak up to me, especially the body blows of the Trump Virus taking effect on my surroundings. It's difficult not to see my mom and Uncle at this time. Still, I do help and think of them all of the time. - Tosh Berman

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

Tosh's Journal: September 11



TOSH'S JOURNAL

September 11

When the twin towers fell, I was thinking about Barbarella. When something horrific comes upon me, I immediately turn to a pleasant thought, or to be honest, an escape. There is always that moment in time when you don't know what's happening, and you are on the computer or watching television, and you're not getting news, but just the raw feelings of anxiety, fear, and numbness of watching the jet hitting the building over and over again. It becomes pornography after a while, and I prefer the Eros of Barbarella than seeing a death machine hitting a skyscraper. To have used that jet, not as a missile, but as a spacecraft going to another galaxy for the purpose of having sex with Barbarella. That is the purpose of machinery, to give and receive pleasure, not death.


I had to go to work that morning, and it was strange because I worked at a bookstore, and there were a lot of customers that day. I think they wanted to be with other people, and somehow a bookstore fits the location and the need when those wishing to make contact with others. I remember a customer coming in and asking if we had books on the al-Qaeda. I never heard of them, and it took me a while to get the correct spelling of the name to see if there were any books in print on that subject matter. Then shortly, another customer came in and wondered if we had any books on Osama bin Laden. Again, a name that I never heard of. What was interesting is that a lot of people were either freaking out or trying to comprehend what happened and what does that exactly mean in their lives. One thing I do remember was that the Sheriff's department closed off traffic to the West Hollywood City Hall. I thought to myself of "why would anyone want to attack the city hall of West Hollywood?" Nevertheless, I think everyone who saw a plane in the sky thought it might be a missile of death.


The cultural significance was when Salman Rushdie came into the store to shop, and this may be two or three days after September 11. He just wrote a book called "Fury", and he consented to sign the stock for our store. Rushdie was friendly and very disturbed about the attack. One thing he said that made an impression on me was that his novel ("Fury") is not important anymore. Rushdie stated that his book was the old New York, and now the attacks happened, his version of New York doesn't exist anymore. He was likewise left stranded because he couldn't fly back to his home in New York City. At the time, I read a lot of observations by New York writers, and all of them were interesting. The one that stays in my mind is a column in the Guardian newspaper, written by Jay McInerney, where he comments on the "before and after," and although it is a stock statement or cliché, it is also totally understandable. For me, my fear for the then future would be how the U.S. would react to the crisis. Sadly, and not surprisingly, they did everything wrong. Not only Iraq but our policies in dealing with the international world as well as the terribleness that is happening in the States. The terrorists sent us a box, and the U.S. opened that box without any hesitation. All the evil things came out, and no one will never ever be able to box up the ingredients of pain. The other thing that stayed in my mind was that our best selling title at the bookstore that month was "Zagat Los Angeles 2001."


Somewhere down the line, we traded our fantasies for despair and horror. We could have gone on the Barbarella route - to explore space and bodies, but instead, we now have a world that is not enjoyable or aesthetically pleasing. Just dread, misery, poverty, and a century (the 21st) that will be my last.

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Thank You from Tosh Berman


First of all, I want to thank everyone who came to my events in New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Berkeley, and Portland. What I find amazing, is that each event was different from the other one. Great attendance throughout the tour, but the conversations were different. No one asked the same questions as far as I can remember. My book TOSH is very textural, and each reader gets something personal or different from the other person. I can't explain why, but it just happens that way. I'm still high from the tour, and I'm just thrilled to see all of you out there, and such interesting comments from the audience as well. Amazing. Really amazing. - Tosh Berman

Thursday, February 7, 2019

Tosh Berman, in Conversation with Lisa See, discusses and signs "Tosh: Growing Up in Wallace Berman's World" at Book Soup


Event date: 
Book Soup, Wednesday, February 13, 2019 - 7:00pm
Event address: 
8818 Sunset Blvd
West HollywoodCA 90069


TOSH is a memoir of growing up as the son of an enigmatic, much-admired, hermetic, and ruthlessly bohemian artist during the waning years of the Beat Generation and the heyday of hippie counterculture. A critical figure in the history of postwar American culture, Tosh Berman's father, Wallace Berman, was known as the "father of assemblage art," and was the creator of the legendary mail-art publication Semina. Wallace Berman and his wife, famed beauty and artist's muse Shirley Berman, raised Tosh between Los Angeles and San Francisco, and their home life was a heady atmosphere of art, music, and literature, with local and international luminaries regularly passing through.  Tosh's unconventional childhood and peculiar journey to adulthood feature an array of famous characters, from George Herms and Marcel Duchamp to Michael McClure and William S. Burroughs, to Dennis Hopper and Dean Stockwell, to the Rolling Stones, Neil Young, and Toni Basil.  TOSH takes an unflinching look at the triumphs and tragedies of his unusual upbringing by an artistic genius with all-too-human frailties, against a backdrop that includes The T.A.M.I. Show, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club BandEasy Rider, and more. With a preface by actress/writer Amber Tamblyn (daughter of Wallace's friend, actor Russ Tamblyn), TOSH is a self-portrait taken at the crossroads of popular culture and the avant-garde. The index of names included represents a who's who of mid-century American--and international--culture. (City Lights Books)
Event date: 
Wednesday, February 13, 2019 - 7:00pm
Event address: 
8818 Sunset Blvd
West HollywoodCA 90069
Tosh: Growing Up in Wallace Berman's World Cover Image
By Tosh BermanAmber Tamblyn (Preface by) 
$17.95 
ISBN: 9780872867604 
Availability: On Our Shelves Now 
Published: City Lights Books - January 15th, 2019

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Tosh on Tour for "Tosh: Growing Up in Wallace Berman's World" 2019


Thursday, January 31, 2019 at 7pm 
San Francisco, CA: City Lights Bookstore

We are looking forward to celebrating TOSH, published by City Lights! Tosh Berman will be in conversation with Natalia Mount, Executive Director, Pro Arts Gallery, Oakland

Thursday, January 24, 2019 at 7:30pm 
Los Angeles, CA: Skylight Books

In conversation with actor Jason Schwartzman. Skylight is located at1 818 N Vermont Avenue. For more info: events@skylightbooks.com & 323-660-1175.


Friday February 1, 2019, 7pm 
Berkeley, CA: Moe's Bookstore

Moe's is located at 2476 Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley. For more info contact Owen Hill  owenmoes@gmail.com.  


Monday, February 4th, 7:30pm 
Portland, OR: Powell's on Hawthorne

Tosh Berman in conversation with Kevin Sampsell about his new book, Tosh: Growing Up In Wallace Berman's World.  Powell's on Hawthorne is located at 3723 SE Hawthorne Blvd, Portland, OR 97214. For more info contact: jeremy.garber@powells.com.




Wednesday, February 13, 2019 at 7pm 
West Hollywood, CA: Book Soup

Book Soup is located at 8818 Sunset Blvd.  For more info contact Jen Ramos at jramos@vromansbookstore.com.




Tuesday Feb 19th, 7:30pm 
New York NY: Aeon Books

Aeon Books is located at 151 E Broadway New York, NY 10002. For more info 917 675 7523  &  info@aeonbookstore.com





Thursday, February 21st at 7pm 
Brooklyn, NY: McNally Jackson

Tosh Berman in conversation with Gillian McCain. McNally Jackson's Williamsburg store is located at 76 N 4th Street Brooklyn NY 11249.  For more info  718 387 0115 & events.mcnallyjackson@gmail.com


Saturday, February 23rd 3:00-5:00pm 
Long Island City, NY: ARTBOOK @ MoMA PS1 Bookstore

ARTBOOK @ MoMA PS1 Bookstore is located at 22-25 Jackson Ave (at 46th Ave.) Long Island City, NY 11101.  For questions about the event: booksmomaps1@artbook.com T (718) 433-1088


Saturday, March 9th, 3-5pm 
Los Angeles, CA: ARTBOOK @Hauser & Wirth

Tosh Berman in conversation with Claudia Bohn-Spector. ARTBOOK @Hauser & Wirth is located at 917 East 3rd Street Los Angeles CA 90013. For more info 213-988-7413 or contact Lacy Soto lsoto@artbook.com



For more information, check out http://www.citylights.com/book/?GCOI=87286100746120&fa=events&fbclid=IwAR10Q5i_uPZp4_hfPBonZ4mYrbLaRtGEQAnXIa3CivaunNy92tiEPcJjDjo#.W-xQkc6SnCo.facebook


Sunday, August 2, 2015

The Sunday Series: Sunday August 2, 2015



The Sunday Series:
Sunday August 2, 2015

This Sunday, it will be exactly three years ago that I left my job as a book-buyer for a well-known bookstore in Los Angeles.  Off -and-on, I have worked there for twenty-five years.   The last 15 years are pretty much straight through.  From the end of 2009 to August 2012, my chief role was to buy books for the store.   Without a doubt, it was the best job I have ever had.   There wasn’t a day, even though sometimes it was a struggle, that I didn’t enjoy.   For me, it was like being on a beautiful island, surrounded by books and interesting people.  I never underestimated the customers as well as my fellow workers at the shop.   Also, it was one of the few things I have done in my life that I felt was a total success.  Of course, one makes mistakes here and there, but over-all I’m very proud of the work I have done at this bookstore. 



Since I left the job, I have been living off my savings, which I see disappear on a daily basis.   While working, I tend to add services such as cable, more internet speed, and dining out.  Slowly I have been eliminating some of the service, and I pretty much stopped eating at restaurants.  I also used to go to expensive markets like Gelsons, but now, I tend to shop for generic brands in discounted supermarkets.  I ate meat, but now gave that up, which in hindsight, is good for my health.   My breakfast every morning is instant oatmeal, and at one time, I would empty two packets for breakfast, but now, I only eat one packet of instant oatmeal.  I add water of course, but very little, to make it more thick, and therefore more filling.   I avoid lunch and focus on having broccoli head and a plate of pasta for dinner.  My wine of choice is Two-buck Chuck.   I get a buzz which helps me in the long run to forget my everyday struggle or my lack of inner-happiness.  



I have a large library, and I tend to either re-read my books or go to the library, which I’m extremely fond of.  You tend to have to wait for popular titles, but the price of books is pretty expensive.   If I have the money, I don't mind spending it on books, but then I have to think about the use of electricity in the house.  I normally like to read at night, but to save money I have all the lights out - about an hour after dusk.  It doesn’t save a whole lot, but everything helps.  To save water, due to the cost of the Department of Water and Power, and the drought, I pour myself a big glass of water in a glass, and I place it in the refrigerator.  I sip on it throughout the day which helps with hunger and it is also something I look forward for the duration of the day.  



I miss my work greatly, because it was a job where everyday I had to do something.  Purchasing books for a store are pretty much seven days a week type of occupation.  Since it’s a busy store, I needed to re-stock the titles as soon as they were sold.  The public gets hungry for books, and therefore I had to supply their hunger. The same I do at home now for my body and soul.  



I have heard that in Japan, they put a lid over the bath to keep it warm, and therefore the whole family can use it, after showering.  What I do is fill the bathtub up with water, and completely shut the room up - even closing the window.  The temperature gets cooler of course, but it is never frozen, perhaps due to the Southern California climate.   Nevertheless I just use a dime-sized drop of shampoo and the latter I use it to wash my body as well.   I perhaps go through this procedure every other day.  I don’t do that much physical activity, so I rarely sweat, unless the humidity is high.   To minimize my life in such a way has become an art to me.  Besides writing, I have very little tools to express myself, and I think through poverty, I found a medium that suits my purpose.  Currency is the cancer of the 21st century.  I prefer to live without it and just focus on the everyday needs one may or may not have.  We’re all individuals, and we each have our specific issues that we must deal with.  Mine is to go to disappear into the entrance of nonexistence.   To open that door, and to stick one’s head through the entrance, and then jump in, sounds like a beautiful ending to this narrative.  


Friday, October 31, 2014

October 31, 2014



October 31, 2014

“Nothing ever becomes real 'til it is experienced.” At this very moment, I’m recovering from a dream that woke me up very early this morning.  I just got back from a trip to Japan, and I feel like I have one foot still in the Shibuya crossing and the other is in my bed at home.  The dream was very peculiar.  It seemed like I had a job position in Book Soup, I wasn’t buying but perhaps I was an assistant to put together events for the store.  It seemed like the store hired a European, who also had his own performance group as well.  He was handling events, and I think I 'm working under him.   There was something sinister about him.   He sort of looked like Jimmy Savile, and all his programming deals with events for children of all sorts, but mostly those who were under nourished or from troubled families.

I helped arranged a picnic in a park, and once I got here I realized that the whole surrounding was covered with rats.  My job was to get rid of the rats before the children arrive.   The European (since I don’t have a name for him, I’ll call him that) had his group of performers help me with the clean-up.  It felt like we had to kill numerous rats, by stabbing them with knives.  I did kill one, but I found it too gross, yet, the traveling troop appeared to be really into the massacre.  The children showed up, and I remember feeling hesitant or concerned that they may find a dead rat by their picnic table.



“Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.” That was the catch phrase for the picnic event.   There was live music being played, yet, it seemed horrifying to me.  When I came back to the store, there were numerous events taking place.  One in the back counter, because there was already an event happening at the front of the store. It seemed that the “European” managed to over-book events, so we had to use every available space in the store to hold such event.  For instance when I went up to the office upstairs, it was full of people there for a lecture. I stayed for a while, because I couldn’t reach my office table. In fact, it seemed that the lecture was taking place on top of my desk.  I needed to get a form of some sort, so I weaved in and out of the audience to get to the desk.  A gentleman who was giving the lecture was on the table, standing and speaking to the crowd.  He was dressed like someone from the 18th century.  What I remember was that the lecture was inspired by the writings of John Keats.



The next thing I know is that I was on a cargo plane, and there was another lecture being held.  It seemed that the European booked so many events for that day, that we had to rent a cargo plane to hold another lecture or book signing.  There was someone talking, but the noise from the plane's engines was drowning out the speaker's voice.   For whatever reasons, I had to arrange to bring a huge player piano onto the plane.  It was made to play the music by Conlon Nancarrow.   As we were flying over Los Angeles, a fellow employee came up to me and said he has to push the piano off the plane in mid-air.   I told him that I didn’t think that was a good idea.  He said he had to do it, because the “European” ordered him to do so.  So, he pushed the player piano out of the plane, and I told him that I was concerned that the piano may hit someone down below.  He seemed not to care or even aware that this could be an issue.

Then all of a sudden David Bryne came up to me.   At first I thought the cargo plane event was for him, but it became clear that he came not to participate but to be a part of the audience.  He was asking me questions about the book signing that is occurring at that moment.  My feeling was that he was very nice, but I couldn’t figure out why his hair was dark.  All the photographs I have seen him lately, it’s white.  And the hair color didn’t look fake, and he looked naturally quite young.  I thought that was odd.  We both heard music down below and we looked out on the open door (where the piano was pushed) and saw a band down below.  It was an older man playing a full kit of drums, and a small child playing a keyboard instrument.  What he was playing was fairly minimal, and it sounded pretty great.

“I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.” I woke up with a feeling of depression coming upon me.   I have this meditation where I just focus on these words: “I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.” But how does one know if they’re great or not.  Fraud rules the landscape, and I’m very much part of that world, where even if I have a mirror, I’m not sure of what I am seeing is the truth or not.  “Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter.” And therefore I must hunt down what I don’t know, for there can be an answer to my question that gives me so much anxiety.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

"The Death Instinct" Out Now at your favorite Independent Book Store


The Death Instinct

Published by TamTam Books
By Jacques Mesrine. Introduction by Robert Greene. Translation by Robert Greene, Catherine Texier.

France's Public Enemy Number One from the late 1960s to the end of the 1970s--when he was killed by police in a sensational traffic shootout--Jacques Mesrine (1936–1979) is the best-known criminal in French history. Mesrine was notorious both for his violent exploits and for the media attention he attracted, and he remains very much a public media figure in France and Europe. In 2008 there were two feature-length films based on his life, one of them starring Vincent Cassel in the lead role. Mesrine wrote The Death Instinctwhile serving time in the high-security prison La Santé; the manuscript was smuggled out of the prison and was later published by Guy Debord's publisher Gérard Lebovici (who briefly adopted Mesrine's daughter, Sabrina, before being assassinated, a few years after Mesrine). The Death Instinct deals with the early years of Mesrine's criminal life, including a horrifically graphic description of a murder he committed early on in his career and a highly detailed account of the workings of the French criminal underworld--making this book perhaps one of the most intriguing and detailed anthropological studies of a criminal culture ever written.


PUBLISHER
TAMTAM BOOKS

BOOK FORMAT
PAPERBACK, 6 X 9 IN. / 325 PGS.
PUBLISHING STATUS
PUB DATE 11/30/2014
ACTIVE
DISTRIBUTION
D.A.P. EXCLUSIVE
CATALOG: FALL 2014 P. 77    
PRODUCT DETAILS
ISBN 9780966234688 TRADE
LIST PRICE: $16.95 CDN $16.95
AVAILABILITY
IN STOCK

The world now has jacques mesrine's "the death instinct" in stock.  buy it at your local bookstore.  and if they don't have it, they can order it for you.  

Monday, August 11, 2014

August 11, 2014



August 11, 2014

The only thing I like about The Dave Clark Five is Denis Payton, their tenor and baritone sax player.  It’s easy to find Dave Clark recordings on I-Tunes, but of course it is preferable to find the recordings on the original vinyl.  There is one outstanding track of the Five called “Time, ” which features Payton as a solo player.  I don’t know much about this tune, but it almost sounds like a Stan Getz song - and it has to be one of those pieces that were made in great haste as a b-side to some smasher-o a-side.  Nevertheless it’s not easy to locate the sounds of the Five, due to the control that Dave Clark has over his material or to be more precise, the music of the Dave Clark Five.  One wonders why someone would want to hoard the music to such a great degree, but perhaps it is something that is very precious to him.  Or maybe he feels he can drain more money out of the dying music business.  I always suspect that he pretty much stole his sound from the great Joe Meek recordings from the early 60s.  The sad thing is the case that the work becomes a shadow of an era, instead of what it naturally is - a piece of music.



The control of one’s image by someone else is a very natural thing to be done.  Whatever it is your work, or worst yet, a family member, it’s an uphill battle because you want to do the right thing, but sometimes you are only getting in the way of what is interesting about that person.   Peter Folger, who was part of the Folger (coffee) family spent a great deal of his time protecting his daughter, Abigail from the damning articles or books about the Tate-LaBianca murders, which resulted in very little information about her and her life.  Which is a shame, because it sounds like she was a very wonderful person.  I rather know her as a living person, than as a dead victim, who by all accounts was at the wrong place at the wrong time - or maybe at the right place that was intruded upon people who were clearly wrong being there.  Nevertheless I found it interesting that she had an interest in the arts -especially poetry and the theater.  She was a debutante from San Francisco, who wore a bright yellow Christian Dior gown that she had purchased in Paris some years before the debutante ball.  The interesting thing about her was her devotion to the issue of civil rights as well as the art world.  She took a job at the University of California Art Museum in Berkeley as a publicity director.

In 1967, Abigail moved to New York and found a job as a clerk at the Gotham Book Mart on 47th Street.  When I worked at Book Soup, I met the most amazing people, that I still remain in contact with, and some went off and became huge stars, writers, or … dead.  Nevertheless each one had a profound effect on my life, and I just try to imagine what it would have been like to work with Abigail at the Gotham.  Would we discuss Frank O’Hara, or maybe she liked French poetry.  I imagine her more of being a fan of the New York School of poetry (whatever that is).   The thing is there is very little information about her.  We don’t know what her taste in music, books were and yet we do know that she was devoted to the art form of literature and music.   All we know are the facts, such that she met the author Jerzy Kosinski at the bookstore and he introduced her to Wojciech Frykowski, a fellow Pole, and a bit of an adventurer.  The perfect boyfriend for this New Yorker, who can only communicate fully to each other in French.  Frykowski wanted to move to Southern California, hopefully to work with his good friend Roman Polanski, or at least hoping that would happen.   Abigail decided to move with him to Los Angeles, where she wanted to be a social worker.  Of course, things didn’t work out well.



I want to know more of Abigail as well as Denis Payton, but alas, due to a certain amount of controlling one’s history and the passing of time, it now becomes a world of shadows. As I have stated before, I ‘m OK in that world.  I got the Dave Clark Five’s very rare album that came out only in Canada (of all places) called “Instrumental Album.” It has the Payton sound of sax sounding like metal against metal.  It’s raw. I find it beautiful.  There are certain instrumentalists who totally dominates a sound, and the only other person who can do that is Jah Wobble, with his bass on PIL’s “Metal Box.” In memory of Abigail Folger and Denis Payton, whose  birthday, I’m celebrating today.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

June 22, 2014



June 22, 2014

The bookstore Book Soup and yours truly have a long history together.  Both as a customer and as an employee.  My first ten years there were off and on, and I worked there full-time from 1997 to 2012.   So altogether around 25 years, I have been associated with the store.  Mostly as a bookseller and then from 2009 to 2012, as its book buyer.  But even as a buyer I spent a lot of time on the floor, monitoring sales as well as chatting with the customers and the staff.

My first time in Book Soup was when they were located up the street from where they are currently.  The space was cramped, small, and cozy.  One doesn’t go to Book Soup for space, you go there to be surrounded by books, and if you get hit in the head with a book, better yet!  And that is precisely what happened to me in the art section, when I reached out towards the top shelf for a book on the British artist duo, Gilbert and George, that entire shelf fell on me.  I remember the employee there was shocked when it happened.   I said I was fine, and was slightly embarrassed what just took place.  Although I was in a mild form of shock, I pretended everything was OK, and I even purchased the Gilbert and George book, just to save myself from further embarrassment by destroying their art section.



Through a recommendation from Michael Silverblatt, I finally got a job at the store, after working some years at a record store. I decided to make a huge jump from vinyl to the printed page, and doing so, I never looked back.  In fact, there is not that much of a huge difference between music and reading.  It always is and always will be an intense relationship between the listener/reader and the world.  The man who hired me, Glenn Goldman, was the founder and owner of Book Soup.  I immediately liked him, but was never sure if he liked me.  He was remote, slightly eccentric, and sometimes difficult to connect with, but that was also the reason why I liked him.  He struck me as the perfect person for the world of book selling.  In many ways, it has nothing to do with the ‘real’ life that is outside the store. Yet it consistently reflects on that landscape outside the door of the business.  In many ways, I felt like an outsider, but I was perfectly at home at Book Soup, because I felt it was the home of those who find a lifestyle outside the work, or place as difficult.



The clientele of the store is amazing, and truly famous and wonderful.  To be honest, I have never met a customer at the store who I disliked.  If they are willing to go in and share the adventure, I’m a fan or friend of that person for life. Including the legendary, the wealthy, the border-line insane, and some were convicted criminals - all wonderful people.  Time-to-tiime one is approached by the gossip media to locate information regarding what a specific customer is reading or not reading, and I just basically want to shoot the reporter or editor, because one, it is none of their business, and two, it is a sin to me to rat on my customers.  It is a bond that I hold up to this day.  Doctor-client, lawyer-client, priest-client, and bookseller-client.  Anyone who would distract that relationship was a person I would want to torture and burn for in perpetuity.

What I admired most about Glenn was his vision for the store.  I think basically he just wanted a business that expressed the good life, and all the troubles that goes with such a world.  It takes a certain amount of courage to open up a bookstore, but he either by design or luck, found a great location to open up a store that served not only the entertainment world, but also the whole world as well.  Our customer base was everywhere from New York City to London, to various locations in Asia.  Most were prominent people in their fields of interest and occupation, and it was truly an honor to serve their needs.  Also the beauty of the store was that it never dumb-down its inventory.  The trivial books were sold, but so were titles and authors who had a strong effect on the literary landscape.  It was common knowledge that if Book Soup didn’t have that title, then it didn’t exist anymore.  Glenn was a remarkable buyer for his store, and just working with him, I learned a lot regarding the subject matter of taste and how to present that ‘taste’ to our customer.   He had personal reading taste, but he also listened to his customers, and with the advice of various publisher’s sales people he built the perfect book store.



The shock of hearing about his cancer, was horrifying on a lot of levels.  One, I couldn’t imagine him being ill, and two, what will happen to Book Soup, a home for me for many years?  When he went to the hospital he requested that I take over his buying duties, and without even thinking about it I told him “of course.” It was one of those moments that happened so fast, and so unexpectedly that I never really thought about it in great detail, but it was a moment that changed my life.

Using Glenn as a role model, throwing in some of my knowledge in the mix, as well as listening to the staff, customers, and observing the industry, I felt confidante that I was in my true role in life.  To curate, to shape the inventory of a store is quite a remarkable adventure - but most of all, I never had someone trust me with such responsibility before.  Glenn, although never compliment me verbally, but by him giving me this job, it was probably the most touching thing that happened in my life.   Since today (June 22) is Book Soup’s birthday and therefore Glenn Goldman’s birthday as well (at least to me) I honor his memory, and also to the store that brought me a great deal of happiness.  Oh and books as well.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

June 19, 2014



June 19, 2014

Some years ago, working at Book Soup, I was shelving books in the bottom row, which is ground level, when all of sudden a book from above fell on to my head - it was “No Longer Human” by Osamu Dazai.  I thought this was a sign from above, and therefore bought and read the book.  The narrative of a young misfit in a very structured society, had a profound affect on me, and it put serious ideas that I should be a writer as well as a publisher.  Some point out that there are no such things as accidents, but even though it looked like the hand of fate played a role in all of this, I feel I was just lucky to be hit in the head with this book.




At the time of this “accident”, I was a big fan of Yukio Mishima.  I liked everything about this guy - his fascism, his dandyism, his writing, and the fact that he appeared to be a creature who re-invented himself to be Mishima.   The one writer that he hated was Osamu Dazai.  Due to the fact that he was popular and respected in the Japanese literary world of course, but also that in his eyes, Dazai was a weak character.  Keep in mind, Mishima had to re-invent himself from a weakling (in his eyes) to a super figure.  Dazai was the total opposite of Mishima.  For one, he was very much a failure with respect to his wealthy family.  He became a Communist, a failed student,  a drug addict, drunk and worst, he tried to commit suicide numerous times, and once organized a double- suicide with a 19-year old bar hostess named Shimeko Tanabe, in which he survived the suicide attempt, but she died.



Mishima, right after he wrote “Confessions of a Mask” (an incredible book by the way) was invited to a large ‘literary’ party that was in honor of Dazai.   He never met him, and on top of that, there was nobody there except individuals who were highly influential in literature at this exclusive party.  Mishima went up to Dazai, among the crowd that surrounded him, and told him to his face - my name is Mishima, and I don’t care for your work.” Everyone around Dazai was shocked to hear such a pronouncement from a fledgling writer to an older literary figure - Dazai just looked at him, and laughed.  He told everyone right at that moment “He is only saying that, because he loves me.” This statement struck Mishima hard, in fact he told this story to friends, right before he committed his famous suicide.

Of course, this made Dazai more enduring to me, and eventually I read everything possible by him that were translated into English.  My favorite two books by him are “Self Portraits, ” which is a collection of his short stories and “Return to Tsugaru.” The latter basically started out as an assignment for him to go back to his home town and to document the environmental facts of that area.  But with him, you get a memoir of sorts as read as a travel guide.   The thing is, like the “Self Portraits” book, it reads like little memoir pieces, is actually fiction.  The fact that he could use his sad, pathetic life, and turn it into a charming piece of writing, had a major effect on my own aesthetic.  Dazai opened me up to a much larger world.



On one of my many trips to Japan, I went out of the way to go to his studio near Mount Fuji, and it was a very expensive trip for me.  Taking a taxi from a small town to his location cost around $100, but it was worth it for me to see one of his manuscripts under glass as well as viewing Mount Fuji from his studio.   He wrote this remarkable short story called “One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji” which is about how the great mountain oversees so much of the culture of Japan, and how it can even affect a writer.  The last paragraph of the story is about how Dazai, or the main character, was stopped by a pair of tourists who wanted him to snap a picture of them with Mount Fuji in the background.  Dazai agreed to do it, but unknown to them, he brought the camera lens up and shot the mountain instead of the tourists.  To me, this was such a fascinating comment on an iconic piece of property as well as a mountain’s importance to people.



As time went on, his life got messier and messier. It was obvious he was heading to a point of no return.   He met a young war widow who had lost her husband after 10 days of married life.  Her name was Tomie Yamazaki.  He ran off his wife and children to be with her, and eventually they had a child out-of-wedlock.  It was with her, that he finally committed suicide - and their bodies were found a week later in a canal near their home.  There is a theory that he was actually murdered and forced to drown by Tomie, and then she killed herself by drowning, but that is just a rumor.  I have been haunted by a photograph of both of their bodies by the river.



Every time I put pen to paper or push a letter off the computer keyboard I think of Osamu Dazai.   From time-to-time I have been asked by a magazine editor for my photograph for the use in a publication, and I usually just send a photo of Dazai, because I honestly feel he represent me more than I.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

February 2, 2014



February 2, 2014

When I was a book buyer for Book Soup, my favorite buying session was to purchase remainders for the store.   A remainder is a book that is either going out-of-print, or has been returned to the publisher due that it got damaged or weak sales.  These books became a source of passion for me, because I saw them as objects that were mistreated, ignored, and unloved, when clearly it deserved a certain amount of attention from customers as well as the sales force in a bookstore.  So I feel that I’m the last man standing with respect to these books.  If I turned down a title it would be sudden death for that book, and every meeting I have with a salesperson from a remainder company, I bear that in mind.   If I say “yes” to a title, then it can live a little bit longer.

Through out my buyer occupation I came upon the greatest people in the book business, which for me was the reps or salesperson for a publishing house or distributor.  I first met Hella Haasse, when she called my office out of the blue to see if she can get an appointment with me.  The other interesting thing about remainder reps that they are consistently traveling, and most travel from the West to East coast and from the North to the South.  Consistently moving with the largest suitcase possibly made to hold the book samples.   My first impression of reps is that they were another version of Mr. Haney from “Green Acres, ” owing to their encyclopedic knowledge and the amount of books they have to carry with them.

Hella impressed me, because she was tiny, and had to load and unload this huge package of books by herself, but one can see she treat it as a second part of her skin. I felt I came up in the presence of someone who was selling something extremely personal.  Bookselling in general is an act of intimacy between buyer and seller, and eventually bookseller to customer.  It has a unique bond, a relationship that is based on one’s personality or character.  You really can’t learn the trade, you need to be yourself, which naturally takes you into the world of books.

 A remainder rep has to take a book apart before their journey due that it is impossible to move so many titles across the continent.   The horrible thing is that my office is upstairs, so she has to lift the luggage of books as she walks up.  I volunteered to help, but it seems she takes great pride in doing the work herself.

Hella had a series of folders, mostly book covers and its few pages.  They are divided by subject matter.   Right away I avoid the cooking and children books.  I called upon to see fiction.   The first book she showed me was a British edition of “Ulysses” by James Joyce.  For our bookstore, 20th century classics seem to sell the best.  So the wholesale price for this title will be $2.98, but we can sell it for $4.98.   Other then that, Hella is beautiful.  When she hands me the folder to look at the covers, she never takes her eyes off me.  I find myself as a cocktail, where the literature soothes me, but her eyes stings.  After we finished our buying session, I ask her if she wants to get coffee before she jets out to her next sales meeting.  She said yes.



I took her to Dialog Cafe on the corner of Holloway Drive and Palm Avenue off Sunset Blvd.   I do a lot of my buying meetings here due that it's quiet and the owners here are wonderful people.  Remainder reps are an interesting occupation, because they have to be knowledgeable about many subjects, and physically strong to carry the load of books.  I can’t imagine a person doing this for a long time, because it must cause havoc on their social or family life, but alas, all of them like the life on the road.  To consistently travel, it is like they are chasing the sun around the country.  Hella’s work clothes strike me as simple but feminine.  It had an odd combination to think of, because on one level bookselling is a performance, and a salesperson has to think of her or his appearance in front of a buyer or customer.  Which makes me feel a tad ashamed because I find myself attracted to her, but I try not to make it obvious.  But I have a hunch that people in her position know right away.



She bought me the coffee, and we sat down to talk about Joyce, who weird enough I have never read.  She, it seems, is an enormous fan of his writings, but finds “Ulysses” a minor work compared to “Finnegans Wake.” It wasn’t till after she left, that I realized that the only personal information she gave out about herself was her devotion to Joyce, for whom she thinks a lot about.  What does that tell me about Hella?

Talking about a writer or books is very intimate. Yet it can disguise or mask our feelings.  Perhaps it was a sales technique on her part, but I doubt that.  Booksellers, on both sides of the fence, are pretty much devoted to the printed page.
After our coffee I had the greatest urge to kiss her on the lips, but we hugged instead.  I offered to help her with the luggage of books, but she said she can manage it.   I walked her to her car, and we hugged again, and then she left.