RJ Wheaton

Adding my voice to the chorus of praise for Penguin’s Gothic Reds series. Interviews with talented designer Coralie Bickford-Smith can be found here and here.

I’m a big fan of the Red Classics editions: affordable, well-produced mass markets. Their Gatsby is the most pleasant reading edition I’ve had since the mid-90s lime spine edition with it’s Tony Tanner introduction and gorgeous automotive cover. And I recently read their A Confederacy of Dunces, having turned my nose up at the ubiquitous Grove/Atlantic edition.

(Note to Grove/Atlantic: please discontinue your disreputable but presumably lucrative backhander with whichever glue supplier insists on adding an extra 50 per cent to the weight of every book. Books should not tip over backwards on the shelf, international glue surpluses notwithstanding.)

The Modern Library trade paperbacks are still my edition of choice, but I have a lot of admiration for the Red Classics project. They seem to be trying to find the perfect balance between accessible, browser-friendly editions—at a low price point—with a measure of respectability for the book snob. Like me. Anyone can trash up classics in an attempt to court a mass market (movie tie-ins, I’m looking in your direction), and anyone can produce a lacksidasical in-house series in pursuit of high margin. But it takes quite a lot of imagination to make classics interesting enough they will actually move off ‘staff picks’ displays at bookstores. Bravo.

Anyway, these editions look great on their own or together; the design is—in a word—spectral.

So I am loving—loving—reading these beautiful RSC Modern Library trade Shakespeares.

Here’s what they have going for them:

• Great covers. Read Shakespeare without feeling like you’re a student!
• Perfect weight. Yes, they feel exactly like the paperback novel you’re used to holding on your hand in the subway every day.
• Astonishing price. I kid you not: these are trade paperbacks at $6 each. And we are not talking about mass market paper here.
• Scene by scene exposition. (Which they are kind enough to call “analysis”.) Because, let’s be honest, from time to time you may need some help to know what the hell is going on. This appears at the end of the play, not at the start of every scene, allowing you to resist the temptation to read it all upfront.
• Explanatory notes for difficult words and passages, which appear at the bottom of each page—without overwhelming it—for easy reference.
• Introductions that draw you into the text and are less than ten pages long.
• Oh, and the most exhilarating language, the most probing thematic inquiry, and the keenest psychological insight in the history of English. But you knew that already.

In short, they do everything possible to remove obstacles between you and the plays. That sounds easy, but I’ve never found another edition or series that does it—all of it—satisfactorily. I swear, they didn’t even call me up to ask what I’ve been griping about all these years.

Plus there’s a whole bunch of stuff that you probably don’t care about:

• The RSC endorsement (which delivers a significant “in performance” essay in each volume).
• Respectable scholarship. Yes, the textual notes and passages from other quartos are there if you really want them.
• Further reading, chronologies, and a brief “key facts” section (with helpful notes on dates and sources).
• A robust online presence for further resources.

In short, as far as I’m concerned they are the definitive stand-alone editions for the adult reader. Highly recommended. And there are more coming.