Goodbye
Gutenberg
How a Bronx Teacher
Defied 500 Years of Tradition and Launched an Astonishing Renaissance
By Written and Designed by Valerie Kirschenbaum
Goodbye
Gutenberg is not only a book; it is an example of the future
of writing.
I’m
going to back up a bit. It was about four years ago that I attended
Summer Literary Semester in St. Petersburg, Russia (www.sumlitsem.org)
where I took a class in something called hypertext. I was a computer
neophyte—a non-geek of the first order. Before I took it,
I double checked to be sure that that the instructor had planned
his material to accommodate those of us with no tekky blood running
through our veins. It was my introduction to—more or less—letting
a reader read by her own design. The writer, of course, had some
control over what that reader might experience once she had clicked
a link, but it is the reader who chooses the direction using those
little blue links, provocatively underlined to tempt readers to
new territory. We were even introduced to a program that makes this
kind of writing at least semi-automatic. Though Goodbye Gutenbergis
a traditional book (that is a book printed on real paper and bound),
it is influenced by Silicon Valley and the future. One sees—perhaps
for the first time—the connection between brightly colored
links and the illumination of old texts of vellum and gold-painted
introductory caps.
Not
only that but writers are often multi-talented and rarely do those
abilities coalesce into a single work. Kirschenbaum notes that many
have flirted with “shaping words into images.” Milton
Glaser transformed letters into icons. Herb Lubalin sculpted words
into pictures. Known in some circles, these are hardly household
names. The author says that those who were the most “passionate
about the appearance of the words were not—and still are not—the
writers.” Those who use words for content, however multi-talented
they may be, generally do not think of combining their talents into
a single work. Arguably, comic book writers are the exception, and
“graphic novels” are a blooming genre—a portent,
certainly—of more to come.
Kirschenbaum
points out that many artists use their layered abilities well. Some
write music and lyrics and then sing their songs. Directors, who
are certainly visual, write their own screenplays. However, Kirschenbaum
searches in vain for what she calls a “designer writer”
or “designer prose” of any great stature. To be sure,
the web holds promise for those so inclined to challenge her premise.
Very few are stocking their pages with plain text any more.
Kirschenbaum’s
Goodbye Gutenbergis an example of her yearning for “designer
prose” that goes beyond a lovely coffee table book. It is
416 beautiful pages, luscious four color pictures influenced by
beautiful books and writing of the past, an index that yearns to
be read because the book is packed with such good “stuff,”
flyleafs that could well be framed, and a dustcover so silky it
asks to be stroked. A teacher, she tempts with subjects like “Color,
Reading and the Brain” and touches cultures as if they were
meant only to fire modern writers’ imaginations. Maya. Islam.
China. Egypt.
This
book was meant for everyone, not just writers. Those who will be
consumed by the sheer fun of it are historians, teachers, anthropologists,
artists, feminists (no kidding!), and on and on. In other words,
Kirschenbaum may go down in history—if history chooses to
be just—as a woman of all seasons. You will not want to miss
this book. Kirschenbaum truly “writes in color.” |
The
Book |
Global Renaissance Society |
October 2004 |
Hardcover |
09745750 |
Nonfiction |
More
at Amazon.com |
Excerpt
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NOTE:
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The
Reviewer |
Carolyn Howard-Johnson |
Reviewed
2005 |
NOTE:
Reviewer Carolyn Howard-Johnson is the award-winning author
of This is the Place, Harkening: A Collection of Stories
Remembered and The Frugal Book Promoter
A Magnificent, Mournful Book of Poetry
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