The value of books : the fantastic flying books of Mr. Morris Lessmore and the social hieroglyphic of reading

The late eighteenth century witnessed the emergence of new technologies of subjectivity and of the literary. Most obviously, “the novel as a literary form appeared to embody and turn into an object the experience of life itself” (Park), and the novel genre came to both reflect and shape notions of interiority and subjectivity. In this same period, “A shift was taking place in the way people felt and thought about children and the accoutrements of childhood, including books and toys, were implicated in this change” (Lewis). In seeking to understand the relationships between media (e.g. books and toys), genres (e.g. novels and picture books), and modes of subjectivity, Marx’s influential theory of commodity fetishism, whereby “a definite social relation between men, that assumes, in their eyes, the fantastic form of a relation between things”, has served as a productive tool of analysis. The extent to which Marx’s account of commodity fetishism continues to be of use becomes clear when the corollaries between the late eighteenth-century emergence of novels and pictures books as technologies of subjectivity and the early twenty-first century emergence of e-readers and digital texts as technologies of subjectivity are considered. This paper considers the literary technology of Apple’s iPad (first launched in 2010) as a commodity fetish, and the circulation of “apps” as texts made available by and offered as justifications for, this fetish object. The iPad is both book and toy, but is never “only” either; it is arguably a new technology of subjectivity which incorporates but also destabilises categories of reading and playing such as those made familiar by earlier technologies of literature and the self. The particular focus of this paper is on the multimodal versions (app, film, and picture book) of The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore, which are understood here as a narrativisation of commodity fetishism, subjectivity, and the act of reading itself.

Writing and the disappearance of architecture theory

One of the first architects to write a book was Vitruvius, the Roman architect who published De Architectura in the 1st century BC, a book that would become the foundation for Western Architectural Thought. When I was an undergraduate, the history of architecture was taught via a series of books by architects that were at least, if not more significant than the buildings. From De Architectura to Alberti’s rejoinder De re aedificatoria (On the Art of Building) in the fifteenth century, Palladio’s Quattro Libri (The Four Books of Architecture) 1570, and Laugier’s Essai sur l'Architecture 1753. In the 1990s, we treasured the heroic architecture books of the 20th century from Le Corbusier, Vers une Architecture, to Aldo Rossi’s the Architecture of the City, Rem Koolhaas’s Delirious New York, and of course Robert Venturi’s Learning from Las Vegas which for me was the very starting point for the postmodern movement.

The water catchment : fast forward to the past

The Water Catchment: fast forward to the past comprises two parts: a creative piece and an exegesis. The methodology is Creative Practice as Research; a process of critical reflection, where I observe how researching the exegesis, in my case analysing how the social reality of an era in which an author writes affects their writing of the protagonist's journey, and how this in turn shapes how I write the hero's pathway in the creative piece. The genre in which the protagonist's journey is charted and represented is dystopian young adult fiction; hence my creative piece, The Water Catchment, is a novel manuscript for a dystopian young adult fantasy. It is a speculative novel set in a possible future and poses (and answers) the question: What might happen if water becomes the most powerful commodity on earth? There are two communities, called 'worlds' to create a barrier and difference where physical ones are not in evidence. A battle ensues over unfair conditions and access to water. In the end the protagonist, Caitlyn, takes over leadership heralding a new era of co-operation and water management between the two worlds. The exegesis examines how the hero's pathway, the journey towards knowledge and resolution, is best explored in young adult literature through dystopian narratives. I explore how the dystopian worlds of Ursula Le Guin's first and last books of The Earthsea Quartet are foundational, and lay this examination over an analysis of both the hero's pathway within and the social contexts outside of the novels. Dystopian narratives constitute a liberating space for the adolescent protagonist between the reliance on adults in childhood and the world of adults. In young adult literature such narratives provide fertile ground to explore those aspects informing an adolescent's future.

Mauve: How one man invented the colour that changed the world

In an essay, "The Books of Last Things", Delia Falconer discusses the emergence of a new genre in publishing - microhistories. She cites a number of recent titles in non-fiction and fiction - Longitude, Cod, Tulips, Pushkin's Button, Nathaniel's Nutmeg, Zarafa, The Surgeon of Crowthorne, The Potato, The Perfect Storm. Delia Falconer observes of this tradition: "One has the sense, reading these books, of a surprising weight, of pleasant shock. In part, it is because we are looking at things which are generally present around us, but modestly out of sight and mind - historical nitty gritty like cod, potatoes, longitudinal clocks - which the authors have thrust suddenly, like a Biblical visitation of frogs or locusts, in our face. Things like spice and buttons and clocks are generally seen to enable history on the large scale, but are not often viewed as its worthy subjects. And by the same grand logic of history, more unusual phenomena like cabinets of curiosities or glass-making or farm lore or sailors' knots are simply odd blips on its radar screen, interesting footnotes. These new books, microhistories, reverse the usual order of history, which argues from the general to the particular, in order to prove its inevitable progress. They start from the footnotes. But by reversing the process, and walking through the back door of history, you don't necessarily end up at the front of the same house." Delia Falconer speculates about the reasons for the popularity of microhistories. She concludes: "I would like to think that reading them is not simply an exercise in nostalgia, but a challenge to the present". In Mauve, Simon Garfield provides a new way of thinking and writing about the history of intellectual property. Instead of providing a grand historical narrative of intellectual property, he tells the story of a particular invention, and its exploitation. Simon Garfield relates how English chemist William Perkin accidentally discovered a way to mass-produce colour mauve in a factory. Working on a treatment for malaria in his London home laboratory, Perkin failed to produce artificial quinine. Instead he created a dark oily sludge that turned silk a beautiful light purple. The colour was unique and became the most desirable shade in the fashion houses of Paris and London. ... The book Mauve will have a number of contemporary resonances for intellectual property lawyers and academics. Simon Garfield emphasizes the difficulties inherent in commercialising an invention and managing intellectual property. He investigates the uneasy collaboration between industry and science. Simon Garfield suggests that complaints about the efficacy of patent offices are perennial. He also highlights the problems faced by courts and law-makers in accommodating new technologies within the logic of patent law. In his elegant microhistory of the colour mauve, Simon Garfield confirms the conclusion of Brad Sherman and Lionel Bently that many aspects of modern intellectual property law can only be understood through an understanding of the past: "The image of intellectual property law that developed during the 19th century and the narrative of identity which this engendered played and continue to play an important role in the way we think about and understand intellectual property law".

Digitisation of books in Australia for the public good

The National Cultural Policy (NCP) Discussion Paper highlights that the ‘National Broadband Network, with its high-speed broadband, will enable new opportunities for developing and delivering Australian content and applications reflecting our diverse culture and interests’.1 A significant source of content and knowledge is our books, in particular, out of print, in copyright books and books in the public domain. More and more people, especially those who are digitally literate, will demand that the store of knowledge in these hard-to-find (and at times, decaying) books be digitised and made readily accessible on the internet...

Strolling through the (post)modern city: Modes of being a flaneur in picture books

The city and the urban condition, popular subjects of art, literature, and film, have been commonly represented as fragmented, isolating, violent, with silent crowds moving through the hustle and bustle of a noisy, polluted cityspace. Included in this diverse artistic field is children’s literature—an area of creative and critical inquiry that continues to play a central role in illuminating and shaping perceptions of the city, of city lifestyles, and of the people who traverse the urban landscape. Fiction’s textual representations of cities, its sites and sights, lifestyles and characters have drawn on traditions of realist, satirical, and fantastic writing to produce the protean urban story—utopian, dystopian, visionary, satirical—with the goal of offering an account or critique of the contemporary city and the urban condition. In writing about cities and urban life, children’s literature variously locates the child in relation to the social (urban) space. This dialogic relation between subject and social space has been at the heart of writings about/of the flâneur: a figure who experiences modes of being in the city as it transforms under the influences of modernism and postmodernism. Within this context of a changing urban ontology brought about by (post)modern styles and practices, this article examines five contemporary picture books: The Cows Are Going to Paris by David Kirby and Allen Woodman; Ooh-la-la (Max in love) by Maira Kalman; Mr Chicken Goes to Paris and Old Tom’s Holiday by Leigh Hobbs; and The Empty City by David Megarrity. I investigate the possibility of these texts reviving the act of flânerie, but in a way that enables different modes of being a flâneur, a neo-flâneur. I suggest that the neo-flâneur retains some of the characteristics of the original flâneur, but incorporates others that take account of the changes wrought by postmodernity and globalization, particularly tourism and consumption. The dual issue at the heart of the discussion is that tourism and consumption as agents of cultural globalization offer a different way of thinking about the phenomenon of flânerie. While the flâneur can be regarded as the precursor to the tourist, the discussion considers how different modes of flânerie, such as the tourist-flâneur, are an inevitable outcome of commodification of the activities that accompany strolling through the (post)modern urban space.

Books, toys and tablets : playing and learning in the age of digital media

Introduction During a recent study of how parents source information about children‘s early learning, one of us made our first serious foray into a local store licensed to the global chain Toys'R' Us. While walking the aisles, closely observing layout, signage and stock, several things became obvious. Firstly, large numbers of toys were labeled'educational'. Secondly, many toys in that category were intended for children under the age of two years. These were further differentiated as intended for 'babies' or 'infants', and sub-categorized on packaging or shelving using even smaller age increments (e.g. 0-3 months, 12-18 months, and so on). Thirdly, many products were labeled as 'interactive' and 'learning' toys that promised to assist children‘s early learning and development. The activation of some of these toys relied on embedded computer chip technology and promised to 'connect' children with the home television, computer and the Internet. These products were hybrids between a toy and a platform for digital media interaction. Closer inspection of toy packaging and other promotional material suggested that industry had begun to invest heavily in developing highly differentiated children‘s markets for products that yoked together concepts of learning and development, the 'fun toy' that incorporates digital technology, and offline- and online participation. In this chapter we explore the growth of this contemporary cultural phenomenon that now connects books, toys and mobile digital media with children‘s play and learning.

Paranoid prizing : the facts and fictions of Australia’s Eve Pownall Award for Information Books, 2001-2010

Ghassan Hage asserts the “core element of Australia’s colonial paranoia is a fear of loss of Europeanness or Whiteness and the lifestyle and privileges that are seen to emanate directly from them. This is a combination of the fragility of White European colonial identity in general and the specificity of the Australian situation” (419). This ‘White paranoia’ can be traced through a range of popular cultural formations, including contemporary Australian children’s literature. The Children’s Book Council of Australia (CBCA) awards an annual prize for “outstanding books which have the prime intention of documenting factual material with consideration given to imaginative presentation, interpretation and variation of style” (“Awards”) published in the preceding year. Although not often included in critical debates, non-fictional texts overtly seek to shape young readers’ understandings of their national context and their own location as national subjects. Thus, the books named as winners and honours of this prize from 2001-2010 provide a snapshot of which facts and whose fictions are salient in shaping the Australian nation in the twenty-first century. Using Hage’s concept of Australian colonial paranoia, this paper considers the relationship between ‘factual material’ and ‘imaginative presentation’ in the ongoing revision and renewal of national myths in award-winning Australian non-fiction for children.

"What is contemporary art? A review of two books by Terry Smith'

What is contemporary art and what are the key components of contemporary culture? This review demonstrates where Terry Smith provides important answers to this question. The books thus help to improve understanding of how art has changed in recent decades and how a global culture now shapes its parameters. This review does not however concur that Smith provides a convincing case for a complete cultural paradigm transformation.

Visions and values : the Children’s Book Council of Australia’s prizing of picture books in the twenty-first century

The Children’s Book Council of Australia (CBCA) administers the oldest national prize for children’s literature in Australia. Each year, the CBCA confers “Book of the Year” awards to literature for young people in five categories. In 2001, the establishment of an “Early Childhood” category opened up the venerable “Picture Book” category (first awarded in 1955) to books with an implied readership up to 18 years of age. As a result, this category has emerged in recent years as a highly visible space within which the CBCA can contest discourses of cultural marginalisation insofar as Australian (“colonial”) literature is constructed as inferior or adjunct to the major Anglophone literary traditions, and the consistent identification of children’s literature (and, indeed, of children) as lesser than its ‘adult’ counterparts. The CBCA is engaged in defining, evaluating, and legitimising a tradition of Australian children’s literature which is underpinned by a canonical impulse, and is a reflexive practice of self-definition, self-evaluation and self-legitimisation for the CBCA itself. While it is obviously problematic to identify award winners as a canon, it is equally obvious that literary prizing is a cultural practice derived from the logic of canonicity. In his discussion of the United States’s Newbery Medal, Kenneth Kidd notes that “Medal books are instant classics, the selection process an ostensible simulation of the test of time” (169) and that “the Medal is part of the canonical architecture of children's literature” (169). Thus, it is instructive to consider the visions and values of the national, of the social, and of the literary-aesthetic, in the picture books chosen by the Children’s Book Council of Australia (CBCA) as the “best” of the early twenty-first century. These books not only constitute a kind of canon for contemporary Australian children’s literature, but may well come to define what contemporary Australian children’s literature means in the wider literary field. The Book of the Year: Picture Book awards given by the CBCA since 2001 demonstrate that it is not only true of the Booker Prize that, “The choices of winning books reflect not only on the books themselves, then, but also back on the Prize, affecting its reputation and creating journalistic capital which is vital for the Prize to achieve its prominence and impact.” (81). Many of the twenty-first century CBCA award-winning picture books complicate traditional or comfortable understanding of Australianness, children’s literature, or “appropriate” modes of form and content, reminding us that “moments when texts resist or complicate recuperation into national discourses offer fruitful points for exploring the relationships between text and celebratory context” (Roberts 6). The CBCA has taken the opportunities offered by the liberation of the Picture Book category from an implied readership to challenge dominant constructions of children’s literature in Australia, and in so doing, are engaged in overt practices of canonicity with potentially long-lasting effects. Works Cited: Kidd, Kenneth. “Prizing Children’s Literature: The Case of Newbery Gold.” Children's Literature 35 (2007): 166-190. Roberts, Gillian. Prizing Literature: The Celebration and Circulation of National Culture. Toronto: U Toronto P, 2011. Squires, Claire. “Book Marketing and the Booker Prize.” Judging a Book by Its Cover: Fans, Publishers, Designers, and the Marketing of Fiction. Eds. Nicole Matthews and Nickianne Moody. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007. 71-82.

Critical linguistics in the early years : exploring functions of language through sophisticated picture books and process drama strategies

In this chapter we describe a critical fairytales unit taught to 4.5 to 5.5 year olds in a context of intensifying pressure to raise literacy achievement. The unit was infused with lessons on reinterpreted fairytales followed by process drama activities built around a sophisticated picture book, Beware of the Bears (MacDonald, 2004). The latter entailed a text analytic approach to critical literacy derived from systemic functional linguistics (Halliday, 1978; Halliday & Matthiessen, 2004). This approach provides a way of analysing how words and discourse are used to represent the world in a particular way and shape reader relations with the author in a particular field (Janks, 2010).

Touching Texts : Adaptations of Australian Picture Books for Tablets

In order to explore some of the possibilities and constraints of picture books on tablets, this chapter addresses adaptations of contemporary Australian picture books for tablet devices. It considers how publishing technologies shape form and meaning of picture books, and attends particularly to the impact of interactivity and adaptation on such meaning. After discussing some contextual issues for electronic literature, this chapter explores the print and tablet versions of three picture books: Libby Gleeson and Freya Blackwood’s Look, A Book! (2011), Nick Bland’s The Wrong Book (2009), and Shaun Tan’s Rules of Summer (2013).

The Artful Interpretation of Science through Picture Books

Science picture books offer pleasurable and educational reading experiences. These texts open up opportunities for cross-curriculum teaching and learning and a means for developing students’ visual literacy skills, aesthetic appreciation, and higher level thinking skills. Picture books demonstrate how one mode or semiotic system (visual and verbal) mediates the other, often complementing, extending, and filling-in the gaps between words and images. Students’ meaning making is further extended when they can understand the subtleties and effects (and affects) of the visual elements of art and design, and the different styles of writing and language use.

Balancing the books : an assessment of financial stress associated with social work and human service student placements

This report presents the findings from a study of the financial impact of work-integrated learning commonly referred to as 'placement' among social work and human services students. Based on a survey of 214 respondants, 14 in-depth interviews and two focus groups, the findings indicate that two thirds of the surveyed group felt tired and anxious about their experience of balancing paid work and placement, with 2 in 5 reporting their learning experience was compromised as a result. The significant implications and potential solutions are also discussed.