Lilja: In an interview that I did with Stephen King he said you wanted to do a limited edition of The Mist (as a book). Can you tell me what you want to do?
Frank Darabont: Well, I'd love to reprint Steve's story in a gorgeous but unpretentious small edition. Even though he's not fond of limiteds, he's thinking it over right now. The last time I heard from him, he said to me, "Frank, I might agree to this, but only if you agree to also include your screenplay adaptation, plus some of the pre-production monster art you've been doing." My reply was, "Gee, Steve, twist my arm." My name on the spine of a book alongside Stephen King's? Are you kidding me? Hell, yes! I'm there!
Lilja: In the same interview Stephen King says he isn’t that found of limited editions. What is your comment on that?
Frank Darabont: When I read your interview with Stephen King (wonderful interview, congratulations), I had to laugh when I read his comments about limited edition books. I laughed because he and I have had this debate many times. It is a loving debate, as only friends can have. After I read the interview, I sent him an email that said: "Steve, contary to your notion that people who buy limiteds never read them, I've read every single one of mine, some of them more than once. I had the gigantic 'Salem’s Lot limited from Centipede Press, all twenty pounds of it, resting on my stomach for three nights in a row as I lay in bed. Not only did I enjoy every word of it, but it also strengthened my stomach muscles. And last year I re-read that gorgeous The Stand limited edition published some 15 years ago that looked like the Bible and came in a wooden box." (That The Stand limited was actually a gift to me from Steve, which was incredibly generous of him!)
I went on to tell him: "I agree it's absurd to put a book on a shelf and never touch it, as if it were some holy relic instead of a book. That's like being afraid to open a bottle of wine because it's too expensive and rare, or afraid to drive a classic car for the same reason. Wine is meant to be drunk, books are meant to be read, classic cars are meant to be driven -- and I do all three!" (He responded by suggesting that I refrain from doing all three at the same time.)
As I've told Steve in the past, I really feel that presenting a beloved book as a limited edition is a way to honor that literary work and the author responsible for it. The people who create these limiteds do so because they love the book; it shows in the care and quality and effort they put into creating them. I feel it's a huge compliment to the book and its author. I became email friends with Jared Walters (who runs Centipede Press) because I was so knocked out by that awesome huge 'Salem’s Lot he published. So I got in touch to compliment him on it; I sent him a fan letter. And it was very clear to me as we emailed back and forth that he published that limited for one very compelling reason: Jared read 'Salem’s Lot when he was younger, and it changed his life. He loves that book so much that he wanted to honor it, make something special of it, like putting a painting in a perfect frame and hanging it on a wall with just the right lighting. (Jared still hopes to do The Shining some day as a limited, and I hope that Steve will eventually allow him. The Shining is the very first Stephen King book I ever read, so it's very special to me; it's the book that turned me on to King and led me to be a lifelong fan. It stands as one of Steve's all-time best works, and my personal favorite.)
As for people who buy these books, like me, they do so for the same reason: we love the book. I certainly wouldn't buy a limited of a book I didn't care for just as an investment, or some other silly reason -- but for a book I love, how wonderful to have a special edition of it! I've told Steve that as long as the books are also available in low-cost trade editions ("books for the people," as Steve admirably calls them), then what harm is there in doing a small number of special editions for loony, hardcore book lovers like me? It is the difference between buying a gorgeous custom-made chair lovingly handmade by an artisan who withholds no effort in crafting it, and buying a cheap mass-produced chair at Ikea. You can sit on both, they serve the same function, but the aesthetic of the hand-crafted chair makes it a piece of art in itself.
Here's another analogy I've given Steve. You can go see a flawless 65mm print of Lawrence of Arabia in a beautiful theater with great projection and sound, or you can watch it on a crappy videotape at home. You're seeing the same movie, all the words are there, but the experience is vastly different. The same thing holds true for a book. You can read something on acid-free paper with a hand-sewn binding that your great-grandchildren can read because the book will last for centuries, or you can pick up a paperback that'll turn yellow and fall apart after a few readings.
When I have reverence for a literary work (as I obviously do for King's oeuvre), I love the sense of event and ritual involved in reading a special edition. Opening the box or pulling it from the slipcase...the smell of the binding, the quality of the paper...it's an experience that says: "this book is special to me." It's like seeing that flawless print of Lawrence of Arabia in a theater: by indulging ourselves in the best presentation of that experience, we not only heighten our enjoyment of it, but we also honor the artist who spent years developing his talent and has put so much effort into creating this piece of art that we love. To put it another way, there's just simply a big difference between seeing Monet's Waterlillies reproduced in a book, and seeing the actual canvasses hanging on the wall at the Monet Museum.
Anyway, that's my side of the debate. I love Steve and respect his opinions enormously, but I'm sure our debate will continue and we'll never see totally eye-to-eye on this. Steve always responds to my impassioned perspective by making gagging sounds and yelling: "Books for the people!" I respond to him: "Thank you, Karl Marx, but I want my fucking limiteds. As long as the people aren't starving, I occasionally want filet mignon and a bottle of Mouton Rothschild." It's a pretty funny debate, because Steve and I are politically identical. We're both liberal democrats who believe in compassion and fairness, that everybody in our society should be cared for. But when it comes to limiteds, I'm more like Marie Antoinette: "Let them read paperbacks."
Terry
Originally Posted by Dolan
....(except for the rich part)
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