Book of (photos of) books

A discovery in the library - "A Book of Books" by Abelardo Morrell. "Abelardo Morell's camera transforms the recesses of the world into something even more shadowy. The fact that what he finds in these shadows is quite ordinary - books, kids' toys, a paper bag - makes the results magically disorienting and precarious" it says on hiswebsite - and also "Morell thinks big by keeping his focus small ... Morell has a mocking, adventurous spirit that shows no sign of being jaded by the remarkable strangeness of being here on earth".

The books in his book range from the ordinary (made extraordinary) -
via children's books - a story seen all at once, needing closer examination and/or deconstruction -
to glimpses of the strange things that happen when pages open to reveal what's on them -
and when book meets book -
"A Tale of Two Cities" - tells itself -
Sometimes it's the camera and what it can do that's the star of the show (or is that hand moving faster than we can see?) -
In the introduction, Nicholson Baker says: "In the old black-and-white TV series, Superman, when he needed to pass through a wall, would put his palms against it and lean, frowning. Gradually his caped form would merge with the plaster, pass through lath and two-by-fours, and then reappear in the next room. It wasn't as easy as flying, apparently, but it could be done.

Reading works in a similar way. You press your mind, your forehead, against the beginning of a book, the cool cover of it, appreciating its impenetrability. It is rectangular and thick, heavy enough to stop a bullet or press a leaf flat. It will, you think, never let you through.

And then you begin to lean into it, applying a little attentive pressure, and the early pages begin to curl back with a soft, radish-slicing sound, and you're in. You're in the book.

...

"Pages, for the most part, live out their long lives in the dark, keeping hidden what inky burdens they bear, pressed tightly against their neighbors, communicating nothing, until suddenly, like the lightbulb in the refrigerator that seems to be always on but almost never is, one of them is called upon to speak. And it does."

(Morrell's camera obscura work is interesting too!)