The first thing you notice when you pick up a piece of work published by McSweeney's is how handsome it is. One of the hallmarks of the upstart publisher founded by wunderkind memoirist Dave Eggers is its loving attention to the look of print media, a touching gesture to a supposedly dying form. Cracking an issue of McSweeney's is like opening a Fabergé egg, each new installment (one came in a cigar box) more obsessively crafted than the last. The underlying message: Literature matters, and whatever these volumes contain must be special.
- A Golden Eggers by Jennifer Rose, Entertainment Weekly, 02.15.08
I've purchased several copies of The Believer -- nearly subscribing at it's ridiculous price after one particularly good music issue -- but never McSweeney's. I'm not sure why. Probably because while I first heard of Eggers the writer because of A Heartbreaking Work..., I first read McSweeney's online and so online it stays in my mind. The author of the article is right, I generally find the writing there very hit or miss with an awful lot of misses. People often too busy trying to be cutesy to remember to be at least a little bit substantive.
But, I do love the live events and activism and Eggers' books.
And, now, I'm thinking I should get McSweeney's just so I could get the awesome cigar box or something of equal stature.
Damn you, Eggers!