This is not a sales pitch. I'm only kvelling. The printed edition is stunningly handsome, a magnificent artifact in memory of its author, the late Carl Weissner, who was a dear friend and co-conspirator from the '60s. If you would like to read Death in Paris on paper, please do. If you prefer reading it in a preview, here's the entire book. Be my guest.
It begins in San Francisco with an Establishing Shot: "He woke at 3 a.m. Dim yellow light filled the room. Smog had descended on the city, filtering the bright lights of the hotel. The city was cast in a sinister sepia, as in a 1930s gangster movie. 'I should have killed myself when it still made sense,' he thought. He closed the curtains and went back to bed."
The cover is as close to realitystudio.org's online original, per Carl's intent, as will make your eyes water. The overall impact, per George Mattingly's book design, had me pawing at the pages. I suppose I should dial down a bit, so when you get your paws on it you don't expect Gutenberg to pop out of the covers like a pervy Jack-in-the-Box. But I just can't help myself.
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