So yes. The festival was Amazing. The biggest thrill was having people, both strangers and friends come up to me and say "where's the next one, then?".
Highlights of books acquired:
Edison Steelhead's Lost Portfolio: Exploratory Studies of Girls and Rabbits by Renée French (Awesome Awesome Awesome)
W the Whore (the first installment, which i didn't even know existed!): by Anke Feuchtenbergerowa and Katrin Devries
You'll Never Get Away with This by Eve Englezos and Josh Moutray, who do small run self-published books of Exemplary class and wit. (I'm particularly fond of "Their Condolences", which I picked up last year, about a man named Abram, recently deceased, whose "near and dear express what sympathy they can muster". Outstanding.
Then: (seen at MoCCA, but NOT bought due to baggage limitations on "international" flights and my dodgy left knee under heavy backpacks) (and then, of course, shamelessly purchased today on the Bloody Internet. I have NO restraint. CHRIST.)
M by Jon J Muth (mostly a kids' book illustrator, but christ can this man draw and paint. This is a graphic narration of the Fritz Lang film)
The Number by Thomas Ott. I am not linking his name to anything, 'coz i'm frustrated by this man's web presence. He's a bloody brilliant storyteller, but his works seem to have been written off as campy horror stories (it's true, they are horrific, i'll give you that), but he does these silent short narratives in scratchboard that are absolute Genius in storytelling.
This is the problem, of course, with practically everything graphica-inclined. It's written off as proverbial sausage-fest toybox reading, along with the T and A superheroes and the basement-addled teenage boys who wouldn't know a quality read if it hit them on the head (and Gods know we wish it would, sometimes.)
Audrey Niefenegger might be one of our only hopes in getting graphic novels to be more associated with literature, (see "The Adventuress" and "The Three Incestuous Sisters" but what a drag to have to rely on the big names to make the link. We sure as hell can't rely on all those pimply sorts with manga fetishes and rapidograph obsessions.
Anyhow.
ALSO procured at St. Mark's Bookshop ('coz you get to the point where you think, "Why Stop now?!
Riceboy Sleeps- (a book of original artwork by Jon Thor Birgisson) (an Icelandic post-rock band front man, i have just discovered. Thank you Google.) Small and indescribably beautiful.
Foyle's Philavery- Wherein the proprietor of Foyle's bookshop of London (be still my Beating Heart, despite the fact that they owe us money for some errant Bricks we sent there some years ago at their request)...where was I? Oh yes, proprietor of Foyles, it seems, has been collecting unusual words, and herein is the treasury of said words, published in hardcover. A quick dip inside reveals such gems as nullibiety: The state of condition of being nowhere; absence; divagate: to stray, wander, digress, and iatrogenic; (of patient's disease or symptom) caused unintentionally by the medical treatment or the actions or comments of the physician.
And lastly: Books still covetted (and to be purchased upon financial recovery from the above):
"The Blot": by Tom Heeley, another silent graphic novel, 'bout a nameless man being followed by a mysterious black splotch.
So. That was MoCCA. So help my creaking floorboards and perilous bookshelves.
------
Oh yes, and though I did not purchase this, i had to chuckle when it was on the "staff picks" shelf at Barnes and Noble: Penis Pokey (being a board book with a largish round hole right in the centre, consisting of illustrations within of a monkey holding a banana (where the hole replaces the fruit), a guy holding an empty hot-dog bun (hole), and a cowboy riding the empty space (you get the picture)
And this warning on the outside back cover: "Warning; caution; disclaimer: This book is intended for novelty purposes only. Do not put your penis through the holes in this book or any other unknown holes. Death, severe injury, or papercut may occur. Once purchased, this book may not be returned to the retailer or the publisher"
Highlights of books acquired:
Edison Steelhead's Lost Portfolio: Exploratory Studies of Girls and Rabbits by Renée French (Awesome Awesome Awesome)
W the Whore (the first installment, which i didn't even know existed!): by Anke Feuchtenbergerowa and Katrin Devries
You'll Never Get Away with This by Eve Englezos and Josh Moutray, who do small run self-published books of Exemplary class and wit. (I'm particularly fond of "Their Condolences", which I picked up last year, about a man named Abram, recently deceased, whose "near and dear express what sympathy they can muster". Outstanding.
Then: (seen at MoCCA, but NOT bought due to baggage limitations on "international" flights and my dodgy left knee under heavy backpacks) (and then, of course, shamelessly purchased today on the Bloody Internet. I have NO restraint. CHRIST.)
M by Jon J Muth (mostly a kids' book illustrator, but christ can this man draw and paint. This is a graphic narration of the Fritz Lang film)
The Number by Thomas Ott. I am not linking his name to anything, 'coz i'm frustrated by this man's web presence. He's a bloody brilliant storyteller, but his works seem to have been written off as campy horror stories (it's true, they are horrific, i'll give you that), but he does these silent short narratives in scratchboard that are absolute Genius in storytelling.
This is the problem, of course, with practically everything graphica-inclined. It's written off as proverbial sausage-fest toybox reading, along with the T and A superheroes and the basement-addled teenage boys who wouldn't know a quality read if it hit them on the head (and Gods know we wish it would, sometimes.)
Audrey Niefenegger might be one of our only hopes in getting graphic novels to be more associated with literature, (see "The Adventuress" and "The Three Incestuous Sisters" but what a drag to have to rely on the big names to make the link. We sure as hell can't rely on all those pimply sorts with manga fetishes and rapidograph obsessions.
Anyhow.
ALSO procured at St. Mark's Bookshop ('coz you get to the point where you think, "Why Stop now?!
Riceboy Sleeps- (a book of original artwork by Jon Thor Birgisson) (an Icelandic post-rock band front man, i have just discovered. Thank you Google.) Small and indescribably beautiful.
Foyle's Philavery- Wherein the proprietor of Foyle's bookshop of London (be still my Beating Heart, despite the fact that they owe us money for some errant Bricks we sent there some years ago at their request)...where was I? Oh yes, proprietor of Foyles, it seems, has been collecting unusual words, and herein is the treasury of said words, published in hardcover. A quick dip inside reveals such gems as nullibiety: The state of condition of being nowhere; absence; divagate: to stray, wander, digress, and iatrogenic; (of patient's disease or symptom) caused unintentionally by the medical treatment or the actions or comments of the physician.
And lastly: Books still covetted (and to be purchased upon financial recovery from the above):
"The Blot": by Tom Heeley, another silent graphic novel, 'bout a nameless man being followed by a mysterious black splotch.
So. That was MoCCA. So help my creaking floorboards and perilous bookshelves.
------
Oh yes, and though I did not purchase this, i had to chuckle when it was on the "staff picks" shelf at Barnes and Noble: Penis Pokey (being a board book with a largish round hole right in the centre, consisting of illustrations within of a monkey holding a banana (where the hole replaces the fruit), a guy holding an empty hot-dog bun (hole), and a cowboy riding the empty space (you get the picture)
And this warning on the outside back cover: "Warning; caution; disclaimer: This book is intended for novelty purposes only. Do not put your penis through the holes in this book or any other unknown holes. Death, severe injury, or papercut may occur. Once purchased, this book may not be returned to the retailer or the publisher"
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