Sadly, the more I read this book the less I liked it.
Found Magazine is really fun -- it's actual images of the stuff people have found. It makes you wonder about the stories behind the stuff. This book seemed to be more of the same, but with the finder's story of finding or wondering.
What it often ended up being, though, was a gaudy, juvenile, sometimes morbidly obsessed romp through other people's belongings and lives. For example, one finder was walking down the sidewalk and came upon a house with a front yard filled with all the stuff of someone's life. He and his girlfriend stood there, wondering if they could dig into it, until another couple came up and dove in. With that "permission," the finder dove in, too. I've worked with enough people who have been evicted unwillingly that this disturbs me quite a bit.
Sometimes the stories are about a find from the finder's youth, and the essay tells the story of the immature way the finder rejoiced and shared with friends the original owner's story or pain or mistakes. The essay ends with a more reflective, mature view that may regret the way s/he handled the find.
That's nice, but aren't they mostly just doing more of the same now?
I'll have to see if after reading this I'll still enjoy the magazine, but sadly the fun I expected from the book, at least, was missing.
Found Magazine is really fun -- it's actual images of the stuff people have found. It makes you wonder about the stories behind the stuff. This book seemed to be more of the same, but with the finder's story of finding or wondering.
What it often ended up being, though, was a gaudy, juvenile, sometimes morbidly obsessed romp through other people's belongings and lives. For example, one finder was walking down the sidewalk and came upon a house with a front yard filled with all the stuff of someone's life. He and his girlfriend stood there, wondering if they could dig into it, until another couple came up and dove in. With that "permission," the finder dove in, too. I've worked with enough people who have been evicted unwillingly that this disturbs me quite a bit.
Sometimes the stories are about a find from the finder's youth, and the essay tells the story of the immature way the finder rejoiced and shared with friends the original owner's story or pain or mistakes. The essay ends with a more reflective, mature view that may regret the way s/he handled the find.
That's nice, but aren't they mostly just doing more of the same now?
I'll have to see if after reading this I'll still enjoy the magazine, but sadly the fun I expected from the book, at least, was missing.
