A Bookman Takes Stock

 

Kinokun needed a survey on each return, a serious, professional duty was involved.

As usual, near the entry the first stacks on the low tables received a lazy eye, not much more than the wash of colours acclimatising. One exception was for a case of Armageddon—A Biography of NATO. Deterring here, which may have not been recent release.

Only a short way along in a tall glass case stood deluxe JK Roll, in what must have been choice excerpts from the volumes, or newly released notebooks perhaps. Slim and stylish leathers, subtly spot-lit with thin, individual beams. No begrudging the gal, her entertaining jaunts had provided a lotta pleasure to many. The anti-Trans could be put to one side; that argument ought be engaged with the heavy hitters in the field. 

In mags further along, as usual the notable Lits were well represented. Back in the day Hudson Rev had published Hemingway at any early stage of his career. There was Agni again, an inch perhaps slimmer than Granta, which was oddly absent. In the files there were 2-3 c_ck-teasers from that editorial desk at Agni. (This is not our standard rejection letter… &etc.)

The Atlantic was not likely to fail to find a place within that stand; the Sing KinoK acquisition guy, who had been profiled a few years back in the S.T., knew the fanciest jewels in the cabinet. Harper’s beside The American Conservative (“Tell Me About Ohio” – Vance) was running a piece on exorcism.

There may have been at least one other notable among these that had slipped an hour later. The NY-er of course featured in any marque bookstore. Back in Melbourne the cataract surgeon Mark had the latest edition in the centre of his large desk, a subscription that went direct to the office letter box, likely. Three or four gilt-edged names were included in the current edition, in what must have been the summer holiday issue—Sal Roon, Haruki & Annie Proulx. There may have been a notable’s posthumous item recently discovered in an attic trunk somewhere.

A piece on the Fitzcaraldo  operation claimed the attention, 4 - 5 columns read right the way through. The case of the Pole Olga Tok. made an interesting tale. There had been earlier French & German translations, but the psychologist only got lifted into the larger global frame after the English. Nobel, sales, &etc. following.

For some reason the Review was absent now. Never previously had it missed at the Sing KinoK. shelves. The LRB had fallen off the perch in that store 5 - 6 years ago, but NYRB had always found a place. Was it the format, the way the odd sized sheet always bent, folded over and produced an untidy look that spoilt the stand? Not that the Rev had been bought these last 7 - 8 years since the online subscription. It was only for old time’s sake one usually took it in hand and flipped through. In fact the old fave had begun to rather pale of late; didn't really cut it any longer. The subscription would be maintained, it could not be abandoned; but the  unread issues in the In-box had certainly begun to mount. Even before Oct 7 the view from the Hudson River, its soft-pedalling and hedging, seemed hardly worth the candle.

By the cashier the Bestseller stand always needed a survey. There was no need to handle the volumes, riffle and sample the pages; covers and titles more than sufficed there. On this occasion one surprising absentee was Jane A. The spinster seemed not to have found a place just at the moment. The lower reaches were not carefully scanned, but it would be odd to find Jane cast down at those levels at KinoK SG. In a bright, graphic cover Plath’s Bell Jar had taken its place at the top row, beside Dante’s Comedy. (Utmost top bestsellers over the centuries maybe.)

Impractical Uses of Cake had won a place on the top shelf of Bestsellers. Very top, extreme right. On that same peg was another that had also never been heard of previously, All the Light We Cannot See. Kitchen drama perhaps, and hopefully not set in some exotic beachside locale.

One should never judge by cover or title alone, of course. It went without saying. Still, there had been some kinda expertise developed over the journey.

Back in Melbourne one had waded through the entirety of the recent Norwegian Nobel, Fosse, 745 slow, slow-slow repetitive pages without any skipping. A face out presentation with the embossed medallion could have been expected here, in place of something titled The Woman With the Knife.

On the approach to KinoK’s entrance, Crystal Jade resto was found in place, while its neighbour Imperial Palace-something seemed to have recently folded. Cartier, MontBlanc, Tiffany & Co. The first must have held the Philippe Patek that was plastered high in the corridor advertising. Ferregamo had never appeared with the others in the lush advertising in the newspaper. Many of these high-end stores employed doormen in evening dress, mostly waiting on the other side of the glass, but in one case a pair out in the passage. 

Like the magazines, the Highlights shelves by Info & Reservations at KK could not be ignored. On the other side of the aisle a short distance off the graphic section was placed, with stationery adjacent. For a long time, a number of years, these prominent shelves were mistakenly assumed to be motivational, or leadership, perhaps. Initially, on the first pass, a lady in blouse & heels at Highlights had been reading a weighty volume whose single word title semaphored without the eye really trying.

POWER.

Orange cover in a kind of incendiary tone. The lady in whose hands it lay open seemed to be easily hefting. Absorbed.

It was the day before the Hiroshima anniversary, which had not been anticipated in any of the media. On the next day an item on the commemoration appeared in the Straits Times, with mention of the usual Israeli invitation at Nagasaki omitted this year.

The lady at Highlights had evidently found a strong page and might have been caught near point of purchase. Somehow, politically incorrectly, her gender and Asian features produced a certain dissonance.

On the pass here, apart from this particular element, the shelves at the Highlights stand by Info & Res had only received a cursory look. Many a time previously those shelves standing along the main passage had been closely surveyed. On this occasion thought was to skip by. The colour and wrap preceding had buckled the brain.

En route to Philosophy in a corner back by the entry a few minutes later, The Wit & Wisdom of Lee Kuan Yew stood on a low stand in what must have been Politics. Pol that was adjacent Phil and 3 - 4 times the size. Realpolitik you could count on it here in the Republic. The chainsaw-wielding Argentine with his weapon for woke programming had popped up in the paper recently; little doubt he received attention somewhere within those shelves. Strangely, Mr Trumpet’s pictures had not immediately appeared on any of the shelves or stands, at least on a casual survey. Not even at the Magazine.

A look in passing at the Highlights, initially. Down on ground, however, on the concourse outside the Takashimaya’s doors, footing along by Montblanc, there came some second thoughts. Some kinda nagging unexpectedly took hold. The POWER held by the blouse & heels lady was taunting somehow. Hiroshima, Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan, the Taiwan Strait—Power’s counterparts on those shelves ought be apprised properly. One needed to be informed, if only to get a general impression. There was no need to spend time there; a pic would possibly do, even if only for the files.

Retracing the steps from three flights down out on the steamy concourse. Ya, make it happen! A pic and lazy look at leisure later back at the ranch. There had never been a pic taken at KinoK previously. The time was now.

Three flights on the escalator, past the old sec guy leaning against the electronic gantry, closed-eye he may have been second time round. At the stand an older chap had been sampling a volume and held his place afterward, texting with back-turned. Didn't look like moving. Fellow turned into an obliging uncle who pretended understanding for a pic right there and then.

Well, a half hour later on the Bibliotheque 8th, comfortably seated, a look-see what did we have there. Musk? Buffet perchance? Think Like a Zen Monk, wazit? Something of that form had popped up recently in the Arts or Invest pages

Ya, the X man alright, face-out covering the whole of the cover. No prize there. Making Sense of Chaos could have raised chuckles on another occasion. Yeah, right. The Stoic Path To Wealth. Algebra of Wealth: A Simple Formula For Success.

These Are the Plunderers—in this fin. hub where a number of the banks had figured in the exposés was an encouraging sign.

Why Women Don't Talk Money. Sex they had begun to talk but not yet $$$ possibly.

Warren was there after all, sharing the stage with Bill in this case. The earlier era superseded.

POWER must have been around the other side of the stand, or sold out, the lady picking up the lucky last.

As well as the Highlights stand thought was to snap an old favourite that had been done in a deluxe edition in Philosophy. Previously, one had never seen syphilitic Frederick given anything like that royal treatment. The hour had arrived. $32.70, appropriate spider web cover in carmine, dark chocolate border. Adjacent cheaper p/b options and Ecce Homo, &etc.

The shelf immediately below held Persig in multiple editions, one a fiftieth anniversary, paper for the present.

Judging by the newly plastered signs the gals had begun working the bus stop on Orchard opposite Takashimaya: 3 - 4 bright new loitering stickers prominently positioned. Older gals had been seen earlier at a temp bus stop on Geylang, Viets possibly near one of their eateries. The operation had migrated a couple hundred metres westward. A rather poor glossy rust red hairpiece was spied coming down some steps with a suitcase near Paragon. Young Indo parents had fallen entirely, head-over-heels, for all the strip had to offer. Happy giggles & smiles. The Impressions of Money hanging from the stanchions must have been museum show. Foot traffic had been light either side on Orchard. The guitar & vocal beside the busy ice cream uncle at the crossing had opted for whiteboard to advertise his mission: uni fees were stretching his parents. Chap’s tone was a close approximation of the R&B gospel guy of twelve months before.

Back on the 8th at Reference on Victoria & Middle, Idealism & Related Systems & Doctrines was first section inside the door. Never noted previously.