Guestbook: Ghost Stories

Guestbook: Ghost Stories

by Leanne Shapton
Guestbook: Ghost Stories

Guestbook: Ghost Stories

by Leanne Shapton

Paperback

$19.00 
  • SHIP THIS ITEM
    Qualifies for Free Shipping
    Available for Pre-Order. This item will be released on October 8, 2024
  • PICK UP IN STORE

    Store Pickup available after publication date.

Related collections and offers


Overview

A new reissue of Leanne Shapton’s Guestbook, which “elevates the traditional ghost story into an art form” (Interview), collaging the verbal and non-verbal into brief, eerie narratives.

A house stands empty. Family photographs, wrapping paper, and watercolor portraits act as windows into other lives. Little sculptures relay the story of an estranged couple. Photographs of a tennis prodigy document his exhaustive fits.

Guestbook: Ghost Stories arranges artifacts and illustrations alongside meditative dispatches from a familiar, yet new reality. Her stories invite both visual and literal readings of forgotten objects, dark interiors, memento, laid carefully before us. Shapton’s beautiful and haunting pieces last long after the page has turned and the book has closed—making one wonder, ultimately, who has visited whom.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781250359230
Publisher: Picador
Publication date: 10/08/2024
Pages: 320
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 8.50(h) x 1.00(d)

About the Author

Leanne Shapton is an author, artist, and publisher based in New York City. She is currently the art editor at The New York Review of Books. She is the cofounder, with the photographer Jason Fulford, of J&L Books, an internationally distributed not-for-profit imprint specializing in art and photography books. Shapton is a Fellow of the Royal Canadian Geographical Society. She grew up in Mississauga, Ontario, Canada.

Read an Excerpt

He told me twice about the visitation, once soon after it happened and then again something like thirteen years later. The first time he told me, we were outside and it was cold and I didn’t listen very well. I think I thought to myself: Huh, that’s weird.

The second time he told me, we were inside and we had finished our spaghetti and were drinking some red wine he had brought over, and this time I listened. I listened and heard him try to describe how, suddenly, she was there. We’d both had children by then and were not as close, and though we were lost in some ways, we were not as confused as before.

He told me that suddenly she was there and they had been talking for some time.They were in his studio apartment, and though he couldn’t exactly see her, she was there and seemed to be the same age as she’d been when she died. Which was thirty-three, the age he was then, too. And they were both so lonely and they talked about how she had had babies to be less lonely and for the company and they laughed together at that. He said they just laughed and laughed. And he knew her and he liked her and he loved her.

She had died when he was ten, and most of his memories came from a film a friend of his mother’s had made about her. The filmmaker was a family friend and a famous poet. Famous in Canada.

When the visitation happened, he was living on the Upper East Side and didn’t see much of anyone. He drank.

He said they talked for a couple of hours. The space he lived in was small. It had a platform bed and she was there suddenly, she was impressed and happy that he was living in New York City and she said that she didn’t understand how computers could be so important and how she could see bodies on the radio. Then just as suddenly she was not there anymore and he cried and cried.

From the B&N Reads Blog

Customer Reviews