Dear Reader

Robert Dubois is a publisher’s publisher, if there is such a thing. He’s old school. He likes paper, manuscripts mostly since that is what he spends his time reading. But also the finished product, the book. Recently he has been pushed into the long grass by a managing director from the much larger publishing house that swallowed his own. And he is being forced to use an e-reader. The paper piles on desks are being swept away and there is every likelihood that he may go as well. However, his initial trepidation is quickly overcome. Soon he finds himself becoming an adept at using his e-reader. Moreover, he recognizes the potential in such devices, much more so than his colleagues at the large publishing houses who are so focused on show more the bottom line. Robert decides to get creative and surreptitiously sets up a new company composed of the young, imaginative interns and techies where he works. And soon the possibilities of what e-reading even means start opening up.

Despite the formal constraints that Paul Fournel sets himself as a leading figure in Oulipo, the writing here is bright and sly and at times effervesces. There is a somewhat detached emotional tone, but it’s not clear whether that was intended or merely a consequence of translation. There is also a surface quality to people and events. Everything is experienced, it seems, tangentially. But that may be precisely what Fournel wants, as it mirrors, in a way, the surfacing of texts in an e-reader. It all makes for a pleasant short read, not least because of his description of Daunt Books in London, a bookstore most book lovers adore.

Gently recommended. show less