Here I am

Welcome to Bookends.

It's high time I start putting some thoughts in one place. I'm still remorseful over that miniature brown leather journal from the Dublin Writer's Museum I misplaced somewhere in a Paris hostel. It's a sad thing to consider thoughts lost. Admittedly, though, it's a little thrilling to think of a stranger discovering them.

Read on. You might have guessed it: there's a good chance this blog will be bookish in theme. I can't help it -- by profession and obsession, I have books on the brain. I'm interested in the book as art, as artifact, as object, possession, as literature, communication, media, technology, as culture. I think they're as important now as ever, maybe more. I think we're starting to see them with new eyes.

. . . . .

I received these bookends as a gift for my birthday last year. The gift giver said he wished they were real (dogs, he meant. He wanted to give me a dog. Or two?). I love them. They are sturdy and heavy. They are curious and cheerful. Very nice companions, for me and my books.


--ma