Jul 28 2008
A Book by its Dust Jacket
[Preface: In the words of Monty Python: "And now for something completely different." This post was inspired by PZ Myers over at Pharyngula and his efforts to get a blog carnival going called "Elitist Bastards." Can I make the grade? I would both like to and wouldn't. Stay tuned.]
I don’t read many books. Books are long, and I’m just too busy. If I had more time, I’d read more books. But not just any books.
It has been said, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.” To the question, “Can you judge a book by its dustjacket?” I would respond, Hell ya. My judgment may not be accurate, but what else am I supposed to do but engage in literary profiling? It’s all about efficiency.
If, on the front of the dustjacket, there is an illustration of a man who looks like a cross between a bricklayer and a model for Breck shampoo, and he is holding a beautiful woman by the elbows as her breasts are on the verge of making an escape from their cloth Alcatraz, I assume this book is good for curling up in front of a fireplace with. And tossing in.
If the book’s title begins with “How” and the author’s name is in large type with an equally large, “PhD” attached to it, I assume the first half of the book will persuasively explain that, not only do people have an inner child, but they also have an inner adult with a paper bag over its head. Page after page of the second half will be filled with touching stories of people who transformed their lives by adding the equivalent of an mp3 sound-system to their paper bag.
If the book has the word “wealth” on the cover and the title sounds bullish, I decide to save my money. I have learned that if I put the $29.95 into the stock market instead, at 8% interest I’ll be a millionaire in a little over 130 years.
If the book has the word “philosophy” on the spine, I assume it will move me like only Sominex can. In it I would expect to encounter sentences like: “The trans-substantitive hermeneutics of Hegel, if allowed to illuminate the essence of essence itself, have pragmatically defined what is definable only a priori, as in the case of Kant’s theorem, Descarte’s dictum, and Little Richard’s “Good Golly Miss Molly.”
If the book is a mystery, I expect to get a strong plot, but the plot of an obstacle course. I have to proceed carefully so I don’t stub my brain on coincidences in the road. The characters will be as well-developed as a 4-year-old’s drawing of Frosty the Snowman. (Three circles, two dots for eyes, and a crooked smile. Where’s the nose? Where are the rickety-stick arms, for goodness sake? Give Frosty some freakin’ arms!)
While I have to cut a 4-year old some slack, I don’t have to do this for the author of a mystery. In this type of book I fear I will encounter the heroine, Becky Sheldon, private-investigator, cry, “Help, I’m being chased by a cardboard cut-out! He’s got a scar on his face, and I saw him kick a dog! I’m in really, really deep trouble. He’s going to shoot me because I know something. But I don’t know what that is. Yet. So I’ve got to run. Where’s my friend, the black cardboard cut-out with the streetwise sense of humor? Oh, look, there he is. Just in time. He was on his way over to my house at 3:00 in the morning to return a can-opener. And to tell me he doesn’t trust the guy with the scar.”
If the book is an autobiography and there is a large photo of a smiling, Hollywood celebrity on the front, I assume the subtitle should be, “How This Person Ever Graduated High School, Never Mind Became a Star, I’ll Never Know.”
And finally, if the title of the book contains the words “diet” and “breakthrough” I am certain it could provide an excellent way to lose weight . . . should I rip out the pages and use them in a salad.
Wait! There’s more! Next time I’ll tell you how I evaluate a video by its cover! Here’s a preview! If each and every sentence in the blurb ends with an exclamation point, I safely assume it’s going to #$@* %^&&#!!!
I also assume that the more books there are in a series, the less likely it is that it’s worth reading (I’m looking at you, Chicken Soup for the Fill-in-the-Blank’s Soul!). This allows me to ignore whole bookcases at a time.
Excellent rules. After all, this is what the cover is for!
Might I add, that in the case of the cover having an illustration by Paul Kidby, it could very well be an entertaining read.
This is a very entertaining read. :) On a serious note, though — when people design book covers (or dust jackets) they’re trying to advertise the most significant aspects of the book to potential readers/buyers. Why isn’t that a valid way of evaluating what’s inside? This is why I don’t really buy the “don’t judge a book by its cover” message even in its intended context. Sure, don’t be prejudiced and all that, but to some extent, the way a person presents himself or herself says something about how they intend to be seen by you. It’s only rational to note how people advertise themselves and act accordingly.
Several years ago, I went to BigBrick bookseller to purchase a thick text, one of those heavy “Oy, words *can* hurt me” books.
When I went to the counter to conclude the transaction, I was puzzled when the first thing the clerk did was to take off the dust-jacket. Hiding behind the jacket “BOOK OF FOO” was the latest bodice-ripper of the week, “BAR ME GENTLY.”
The clerk smiled and said “You’d be surprised how often someone, for whatever reason, re-shelves a book with the wrong cover on.”
She was a saint, that clerk. Not only did she spare me the frustration of a return-trip, but this sweet woman *actually laughed* at my knee-jerk response of “Oh. I guess you can’t always judge a book by its cover.”