If I could give a gift to a community to make it feel proud of itself, reverent of its past and spirited by its current efforts, and prove to it that it has some poetry in its soul, I would grant that place some small press activity. As an undergraduate hand-binding chapbooks a micropress, the only thing that bummed me out more than cruising spare classifieds was, in conversations with peers, tripping onto the subject of publishing as an industry. Inevitably s/he would go "But it is my work and it is so important and I would just have to see it on the shelf neatly bound with blurbs by Neil Gaiman." There is nothing wrong with that, and with all the other evil in the world, that is but a blip, but the relegation of the book to fetish-object, that specter of legitimacy simply gets things in the way of being done. And what needs to be done is publishing: perpetuating art and ideas. Now nothing is stopping virtually anyone from doing that, which has its pros and cons. Very fortunately for Harrisburg, some particularly unstoppable people are using their uniquely powerful positions to invigorate the city's literary spirit and demonstrate all the pros of small publishing with real swagger.
Eric Papenfuse and Catherine Lawrence, owners of the Midtown Scholar Bookstore, announced at Harrisburg's Second Annual Book Fair the launch of the Midtown Scholar Press and unveiled the inaugural title: City Contented, City Discontented by Paul Beers, late columnist of the Patriot.
The idea for the Press was long percolating. Papenfuse and Lawrence have academic backgrounds and met as graduate students at Yale. Midtown Scholar Press is modeled on a utopian vision of academic presses. These presses - like Bison Books and FC2 - operate on alloted funds, not moved by the whims of the market. But funding for these presses to pursue their individual vision of is dwindling, and changing moors in publishing intimidate the bottom-line-conscious administrators at these universities. Papenfuse and Lawrence embrace a for-profit model with a mind to utilize their unique position - as the owners of a bookselling business - to buoy their commitment to publishingwork that adhere to their editorial vision on a leisurely basis that enables maximum editorial and marketing focus on a single title at a time every other year. The Press' publishing schedule demonstrates the same commitment as the bookstore itself to building palpable, lasting relationships. Many other independent booksellers throughout the US feel the same way about their privileged position in the literary community as gatekeepers and nurturers. Papenfuse and Lawrence are at the forefront of a new era in publishing that is more intimately engaged with its public, and their choice of a debut title is a brilliantly substantial gift to the culture of Harrisburg.
City Contented, City Discontented is made up of the collected columns of Paul Beers, a reporter of such quality rarely beholden in any discipline. Despite desiring the title out of solidarity, when I sat down to talk to Papenfuse about the press, his endorsement of the product was irresistable. Little is more affirming in bleak times than to be in conversation with someone who understands what they have is of worth, is a gift, is a piece of art for which they are responsible, and is worth the money. At twenty-five dollars, City is more than worth its might and beauty. Papenfuse and Lawrence left control of the book's aesthetics to Mechanicsburg's Fathom Studio, who also made good on the Scholar's logo (currently featured on their new thermoses, a miracle that will save you fifteen percent on coffee purchases and keep your hands perfectly warm in this weather). Beauty is an important part of the Scholar enterprise and a vital element to a city. The brilliant theatre the Midtown Scholar currently occupies attests to Papenfuse and Lawrence's belief in what they do: moving from a small attic-space into their palatial present location was a heavy investment, but its worth is proven instantaneously once you get inside. Harrisburg deserves the Scholar and its residents deserve to experience City Contented, City Discontented.
I was staggered by this book. A tender, concise, blow-by-blow account of Harrisburg as a complex entity from the fin-de-siecle to Three Mile Island, its scope contextualizes the very human city in its glories, errors, flourishes and misadventures and makes for an un-put-downable reading experience. Each chapter is brief and focused tight on topics that range from the Patriot versus the Telegraph to Harrisburg's decision to forego establishing a major university presence to - very beautifully - the attitude that saw Harrisburg through the monstrous Three Mile Island disaster. Bold and elegant, there is no question as to why Beers' writing was the perfect choice to inaugerate the Press. My favorite parts of the book include the development of front street, the many tactful, cumulating criticisms of Harrisburg's reluctance to establish a college, and the delightfully acidic invocations of other Pennsylvania cities. This quote I underlined heavily: "Nothing could symbolize the financial futility and constant malfunctioning of the modern American city like Harrisburg's incinerator. It's the champ, the stumblebum cousin of TMI." Smart, sweeping, and crucially affectionate, this book should be devoured.
No one is more ardent about this than Papenfuse. By securing the book's availability at Wegmans on the West Shore, the Midtown Scholar's address - which is printed on the back of the book - is gifted to the reader, expediting the connection between reader, book, literary retail, and the role that each of these things play in culture. Now is not a time for any single link in the chain to be belittled. Papenfuse broached the subject of eReaders as an inspiration to challenge the anonymity that comes with a flood of naked, weightless text to which there is psychically affixed no consequence and no tactile relationship. As a city without a brand, Harrisburg is a city that knows the plight of anonymity. Printed locally in State College, City is a testament to Harrisburg's history as a major center for publishing, a plot dashed brilliantly across the middle of the book. This gives the reader such a sense of completeness and belonging - to be reading about the real and substantial history of the city that is itself a product of the labors of Papenfuse and Lawrence's belief in the city and its role as a mover in culture is a rare and valuable thing in this or any economy.
Transcribed by Cecelia McNaughton, Rachel Zuch, Billy Jackson, Lyndsay Morrison, Sheila Rohrer, and Linda Alonzo, and copyedited by Nancy Jones, Megan McGee, Danielle Pfeiffer, and Sarah Hopkins - all of them students of Penn State Harrisburg's graduate program in American Studies - City was edited by Michael Barton, director of the selfsame program. This kind of rallying betrays a purported identity-less-ness and foretells a great and generative productivity that begins with this release. For now, Papenfuse and Lawrence remain focused on drawing attention to the book and its weight as a symbol, but aspiring writers are welcome to bring their manuscripts to the attention of the Press. Poets, fiction writers, and historians seeking to contribute to the Harrisburg History and Culture series - of which City is a part - can stop by 1302 N Third Street. Manuscript cradled in their arms, they can pass it across the bar, aglow in other volumes and the faces of committed readers, and enjoy a golden age.
For more information on the Midtown Scholar Press, see recent reviews at the Central Penn Business Journal and PennLive. For submissions to the Press of manuscripts - including fiction, nonfiction and poetry - contact Eric Papenfuse and Catherine Lawrence at the Midtown Scholar, 1302 North Third Street, Harrisburg PA 17102.
Kari Larsen's chapbook, Say you're a fiction, is forthcoming this summer from Dancing Girl Press. For more information on this and other publications, see her blog Cold Rubies.

















