If the paper had only been glossy I would have been sure that I was reading Tiger Beat. (Remember those gorgeous glossy posters of David Cassidy and Bobby Sherman?)
But what was an adult reader to do with this sepia-via-hipstamatic-app poster of Anne Hathaway kissing Jim Sturgess?
Magnetize it to my fridge?
(Too large: I'd never get the door open.)
Tape it to my bedroom wall?
Well, possibly, as the image does k i n d o f evoke that Robert Doisneau photo, but without all those pesky Parisian passersby in the background.
But I hope I've moved beyond those kinds of aspirational love posters. Definitely beyond tape, that's for certain.
Ponder the (desperately) aggressive book-to-film promotion?
The novel by David Nicholls, which I read earlier this year, was pure nostalgia for me, as much of it was set in the decade of my maturing: the mid-to-late 1980s. I recognized--no--had lived the songs, the dropped names, the atmosphere. The novel was a combination of New Order and Thirtysomething, if you can imagine Gary (Peter Horton) and Melissa (Melanie Mayron) dancing to "Perfect Kiss."
|Meilssa and Gary are on the far right of this image.|
|When I saw New Order in concert, they were this grumpy too.|
For now, gentle readers, the poster remains folded. I have read the reviews on each side--Jennifer Grant's book on her father, Cary; a history of American comics featuring the Yellow Kid, the, umm--father--of Yellow Journalism; and two versions of the apocalypse.
Will I feel the urge to reopen the poster, to place it somewhere other than the recycling bin?
Perhaps one day.
(But probably not.)