Friday, August 31, 2007
This is the greatest village fete bookstall anywhere ever. Captions are welcome, but this time there is a point. Note that a book called Spicy Sex is on top of the pile. This should bring in the punters, we thought. But SS didn't sell. Books, I concluded, can no longer be convincingly dirty. Of course, there's chick lit, but that's not really dirty. The really dirty book is one read by boys with torches under the bedclothes. The Passion Flower Hotel springs to mind. Real, furtive dirt, I suppose, has fled to the internet. Everything else is just sex.
Posted by Bryan Appleyard at 5:12 am