They coincide rather neatly with the hardcover bound series of classics from Whites Books..

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I think I jumped the gun on saying that “most trade paperbacks use” acid-free paper; I should have said that most of the trades that I’ve bought use it. You’re right that I seem to have good luck there.

As far as choosing between hardcover and paperback, I’m afraid it’s just a matter of money for me. As much as I’d like to have the $15 hardcover of Kafka’s “The Trial,” the $3.50 paperback was just too tempting for someone like me — someone who has a humble income and a huge list of classics that I want to read but haven’t gotten around to. The money I saved went toward paperbacks of other classics that I had been wanting to read. The punishment for my thriftiness is having a shelf full of unimpressive paperbacks to look at, but I take such good care of my books that I don’t have to worry about any of them falling apart.

Outside the public domain is different, though. Paperbacks of copyrighted works have gotten so expensive that the difference in price between them and hardcovers is either miniscule enough for the hardcover to be the preferred choice, or the hardcover collections are cheaper than buying individual paperbacks. Just a few examples: You can get paperbacks of Orwell’s “Animal Farm” and “1984″ for $20, or you can get a hardcover that includes both for $15. Paperbacks of the first three Ripley books will cost you $30, but the Everyman’s edition with all three runs $18. (It actually cost me more money to buy paperbacks of the last two novels!) Paperbacks of Dashiell Hammett’s five novels would have cost me over $50, but I got the LOA “Complete Novels” volume for less than $25. (Amazon, how I love thee and thy discounts.)

It all comes down to personal preference, though. If the extra quality is worth the extra money to you, then more power to you and your fine-looking shelf. But right now, as much as I cherish my LOA and Everyman’s and other hardcover volumes, I’m fine with paperbacks.

You have better luck than I do when it comes to the paper of some of your books. I actually find it to be kind of a rarity to find anything that uses acid-free paper, aside from my Everyman’s and LOA books.

Also, I’m really trying to get my library updated with most everything in hardback editions, and am drifting away from pretty much anything in paperback unless I can’t find another copy. It’s driving up the expense a bit, but my books certainly look handsome together!

I was actually tempted to pick up the Ripley title from Everyman’s to have as a basic reading/thumbing through copy, but if that’s the case, then I don’t think I’ll be getting that one.

I also prefer the lighter weight of the LOA releases, and find it to make for a much more comfortable reading experience. There also doesn’t seem to be much order from one book to the next with Everyman’s. The paper all seems to vary, as does the text font, and I’m still irritated that not every release has a jacket.

Now, what I’m really looking for is a complete set of Dumas’ Musketeer saga in hardcover with acid-free paper, but I don’t think that such a set has ever been published or commissioned. In fact, the only proper set is put out by Oxford University Press, but they use that cheaper ‘newsprint’ style paper. I keep bugging Everyman’s to at least publish a copy of Twenty Years After, but they don’t seem all that interested…

Anyway! Thank you again for your comment; I’m only not quite a month late in getting back, so my apologies. I’m curious about picking up the LOA set on Phillip K. Dick as I’ve never read anything by him, so we shall see what my budget humbly allows in the future.

I have some LOA and EL volumes and I love them, but I wish that EL would use the same kind of thin Bible paper that LOA uses. My EL volume with Highsmith’s first three Ripley novels is 900 pages and it’s a heavy and unwieldy doorstop compared to my longest LOA book (“Philip K. Dick: Five Novels of the 1960s and 70s”), which is 1100 pages and pleasantly light and compact. The LOA book lies flat everywhere except the very beginning and end, but the EL book doesn’t like flat even in the very middle. (It’s nothing my TV’s remote control or my checkbook can’t solve, though.)

I’m not picky about the overall quality of books, though, probably since I take such good care of mine. I have a habit of buying paperbacks of anything that’s in the public domain, since they’re so inexpensive. I recently bought a Barnes & Noble Classics collection of Poe tales and poems for $7, choosing it over the LOA collection which costs $30 on Amazon. I also have a small collection of Dover Thrift Edition paperbacks; they look just as cheap as they cost (about $2.50), but they’re unabridged and no less classy than any other kind of paperbacks.

I’m still fascinated by Jonathan’s motivation in Ripley’s Game, and I find it both unsettling and heartbreaking to watch. That almost nails it for me in Highsmith’s writing: she manages to make a compelling and suspenseful plot narrative constantly evolve, in the most thrilling fashion, but I couldn’t get over how touching the last third of the book was, and it was a major turning point in the Ripley saga for me. Before I adored the wicked humor, but there wasn’t a core emotional thread, and I was amazed that Highsmith managed to so unexpectedly weave it in.

Keep your eyes peeled for when I get around to doing a more in-depth set of Ripley/Highsmith posts, but I’m thrilled to count you as a reader, and your comments are always appreciated.

I’m not knocking the Coppola film, as there are quite a few things that I appreciate about it, but it seems to have aged a little bit since I last saw it (on YouTube!).

I’ll check out the 1977 adaptation, though, as I was suspicious of it, but I’m glad to see a solid vote on it. I’ll let you know what I think when I pick up a copy.

Thanks again!

This is the most interesting part of the books for me. I’ve heard so many critics remark that we’re drawn to Tom because his charm makes up for his actions, but I’ve always felt that we’re drawn to him *because* of his actions. Highsmith doesn’t just paint her characters as amoral and allow us to wag our fingers at them; she exposes the totally artificial nature of society’s sense of morality, making us think that we would do the same thing as Tom (or Jonathan in “Ripley’s Game”) under certain circumstances.

Believe it or not, there’s actually a mostly faithful adaptation of the book. It’s a BBC television adaptation from 1977 with Louis Jourdan as Dracula, and it may be my favorite Dracula adaptation. It’s not 100% faithful to the book, but it’s a lot more faithful than Coppola’s film. (I really like Coppola’s movie, by the way, despite the utter falsehood of its claims of being faithful to the book.) I believe there’s a small section about it in “The New Annotated Dracula,” along with a picture of Jourdan’s Dracula, but you can find more information about it online, particularly some clips on YouTube.

In regards to your earlier comment, I also think that the series quality remains consistently high, though I don’t know if I could pick a favorite. Ripley’s Game is excellent; when I first read the whole series, I read them back-to-back in about a month, and I couldn’t even believe that there was an ongoing saga that never dipped in suspense or quality. Specifically, I was amazed at how deftly Highsmith wove in a real emotional narrative with the 3rd book, never sacrificing the thrills or chills.

I’ll have to take a look at both films when I get the chance, as I don’t have a Netflix account. At least, not yet, anyway.

And you’re right: there is something about Highsmith’s writing that I can’t quite describe, but there’s a level of psychological depth there that that almost makes you feel that Tom is living and breathing in the same room with you. Even more unsettling? There were so many points in reading the books that I felt that it was even more than identifying with the character of Tom Ripley, but that I almost felt like I was him. Taking a tour through his mind is a chilling and yet luxurious place to be. Anything can go wrong at any moment, and yet it feels oddly comforting. Highsmith’s humor is an exceptional point there, but even that is only a small part of the picture. I honestly think it’s some of the finest writing I’ve ever read.

Thanks for the comments, Craig.