Offering over 44 million titles, the world’s biggest bookseller seems like the most trustworthy source to get a recommendation. With so much to choose from, you would think our reading preferences would expand with each Amazon order. But we often find ourselves browsing the same section of the virtual bookshelf.
I Love Dick is a manifesto for a generation of women who want to have it all, say it all, and be it all. Its journey from an underground, experimental novel to a cult classic shows far how ideas about women and femininity have evolved in that time.
There is a handful of English bookshops in Paris, for those who know where to find them. Yet none of them are as famous as the one standing in the shadows of Notre-Dame, the one with yellow and green lettering. The one known as Shakespeare and Company.
The heart of World Book Day is encouraging book haters to become book lovers, to tackle the elitist stereotypes around reading, to give a child a form of escapism. How can we not justify this scheme being useful for adults?
“When I write, I’m not a woman, I’m not a Moroccan, I’m not a Muslim, I am whatever I want.… Love has no nationality,” says author Leïla Slimani. This raises the question, and a paradox for our age: Should authors from a minority background be restricted to writing novels based on their own experience?
Call it the Trump effect: “post-truth” was named Oxford Dictionaries 2016 word of the year. It is no coincidence that the literary memoir has appeared in abundance on shelves ever since.
Rainbow colour-coded bookshelves, special edition hardbacks surrounded by fairy lights, atmospheric coffee shop scenes with a splayed open paperback on the table – this is what you can expect to see when scrolling through the 39 million posts under the ‘bookstagram’ hashtag on Instagram.
