Once upon a time, I didn't know who David Lynch was.
Well, more accurately, I knew who he was, but I hadn't seen any of his oeuvre. I remember being in elementary school, coming home for the day and going to my across-the-street neighbors, the Fays, to be babysat until my dad got home from work. Mr. Fay would watch Twin Peaks in the living room, and when he did that, we kids would have to go play outside or upstairs.
So I had a childhood impression of David Lynch as being inappropriate for my delicate, little girl sensibilities. And I remember overhearing something about a lady who carried around a log, so I had an impression that it was inappropriate AND weird.
(To this day, I've still never seen Twin Peaks. I should probably put it on my Netflix or something.)
In any case, when I was in college, I was presented with an opportunity to see Mulholland Drive in the theater. I think I was maybe a sophomore, or thereabouts. My best friend had invited me to take a train into NYC and head to some arthouse theater to see it with a couple of non-college friends of hers. I didn't know anything about the movie, other than it was a David Lynch film, and my knowledge of his work was, as outlined above, that it was inappropriate for kids and probably weird.
I'd glanced at the poster:
... and that was pretty much all I was going on. And from the poster, I gleaned this impression:
"Ok, it's some noir thing. It's set in California. It's got Jennifer Jason Leigh. I like her, I like noir, I'll like this."
Obviously I'd only *glanced* at the poster, because that is not Jennifer Jason Leigh. But I think I can be forgiven, judging from that image, for assuming it to be noir-ish. It kinda looks noir-ish, right?
Well anyway, fast forward to us seeing the movie. It was ... confusing, at best. There was an actress, and a dead woman, and a mysterious box, and some tiny, mean elderly people. And one of my favorite Roy Orbison songs, sung beautifully and mysteriously by this gorgeous woman.
When it was all over, my bff, her friends, and I sat in bewilderment, not sure what the heck we had just witnessed. And after a few minutes, we got up to leave, and we noticed that the other twenty-odd people in the theater had the same expressions that we did: "wtf?" face. I said something to one of those other filmgoers as we walked up the aisle, and pretty soon everyone joined in and we had an impromptu forum, discussing the movie and our various (but all confused) reactions.
It was pretty amazing; a bunch of people standing around, inspired by a movie to strike up a conversation and compare notes with strangers. I'm very glad for that experience, and becuase of it, I will always appreciate David Lynch. But I still don't know what I thought of the movie. I've watched it again, since then, trying to put together the narrative, but it eludes me.
But I'm not here to talk about my lack of understanding of Mulholland Drive. There are entire websites dedicated to figuring that movie out.
Where I'm going with this post, and thank you for sticking with me, is my expectation of the movie, based solely on the poster. It reminds me that often, readers see a book cover, and if they don't know the author or the publisher, they make assumptions about the content of the book based on the imagery presented to them.
At Bleak House, we try to create beautiful, appealing covers which will tempt a reader into picking the book up, while at the same time representing the tone and theme of the text within. I think, for the most part, we succeed.
Have you ever picked up a book and found that the cover belied its contents? Were you upset -- expecting one thing and given another? -- or were you grateful, since you may not have read the book had it not looked the way it did, but you were glad to try something outside your norm?
p.s. Stay tuned, blog readers. I have a *huge* announcement to make, but I can't make it until next Sunday. But it's gonna be big. And awesome. And I'm really excited. Turns out the future might not be so bleak, after all ...
