SIGN IN to access Harper’s Magazine
1. Sign in to Customer Care using your account number or postal address.
2. Select Email/Password Information.
3. Enter your new information and click on Save My Changes.
Subscribers can find additional help here. Not a subscriber? Subscribe today!
Faint or highly strategic praise is a sign that the blurber was less than enthralled by the work. Perhaps in such cases the blurber ought to refuse to endorse the book at all, but this is hard to do if the author knows you’ve already read the manuscript. It would invariably lead to awkwardness and hurt feelings when the whole point of agreeing to do the blurb in the first place was to avoid both. “A sweet tale of first impressions, second chances” — to take one example from a blurb for a book that shall remain unnamed — is a quintessential example of noncommittal blurbology. (“Sweet” is, in my experience, not a word anyone uses to describe a novel they genuinely like.) –“Beware of Blurbs,” Laura Miller, Salon
That progressive scientific ethic in mapmaking found its loftiest expression in 1891, when a German geographer by the name of Albrecht Penck proposed to the world’s cartographers that they create a single “International Map of the World,” composed of 2,500 highly standardized individual maps, each representing four degrees of latitude and six degrees of longitude, at a scale of 1 to 1 million. With great international fanfare, the project sailed off the ground in 1913, sputtered through World War I, and then suffered a blow from which it never really recovered when the program’s central office, in Britain, was wrecked in a bombing raid during World War II. The very powers that had conceived of the grand project were now engaged in another enterprise: destroying each other. –“The Agnostic Cartographer,” John Gravois, Washington Monthly
Unfortunately, I am precisely the sort of cynic Shirky’s new book scorns – a techno-luddite bewildered by the exhibitionism of online social networking (why does anyone feel the need to tweet that they’ve just had a bath, and might get a kebab later?), troubled by its juvenile vacuity (who joins a Facebook group dedicated to liking toast?), and baffled by the amount of time devoted to posting photos of cats that look amusingly like Hitler. I do, however, recognise that what I like to think of as my opinions are really emotional prejudices. But equally, Shirky’s prediction for Murdoch’s paywall sounds suspiciously like an emotional objection, rather than a financial calculation. How, then, can he be certain his entire analysis of the internet isn’t just as subjective as my kneejerk cynicism? –“Clay Shirky: ‘Paywall will underperform – the numbers don’t add up,’” Decca Aitkenhead, The Guardian
The Beach Boys, “Don’t Go Near the Water”
More from TedRoss:
Years ago, I lived in Montana, a land of purple sunsets, clear streams, and snowflakes the size of silver dollars drifting through the cold air. There were no speed limits and you could legally drive drunk. My small apartment in Missoula had little privacy. In order to write, I rented an off-season fishing cabin on Rock Creek, a one-room place with a bed and a bureau. I lacked the budget for a desk. My idea was to remove a sliding door from a closet in my apartment and place it over a couple of hastily cobbled-together sawhorses.
Average exam score, in a SUNY-Fredonia study, for students who only listened to a podcast of their professor’s lecture:
Boys in Taiwan are likelier than girls to vomit in order to lose weight.
Hundreds of women in yoga pants marched through Barrington, Rhode Island, to defend their right to wear the garment, and Trump vowed to sue every woman accusing him of sexual assault. “I look so forward to doing that,” he said.
Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!
"She never thanked me, never looked at me—melted away into the miserable night, in the strangest manner I ever saw. I have seen many strange things, but not one that has left a deeper impression on my memory than the dull impassive way in which that worn-out heap of misery took that piece of money, and was lost."