by jenny boe The Catalogs Quiz! Answer ten quick questions and we'll rate your catalog savvy. A Supposedly Fun Job I Never Took by emma taylor It's Not the Cold, It's the Catalogs by bernadette noll	A new movement in escapist Writing is happening today, in a genre you may never have considered for its literary value: the catalog. The best of them offer up a fantasy life as potent as any novel — but this novel is interactive, because you can get that life for yourself: Buy their stuff! J. Peterman is often recognized as the exemplar of this exciting literary form. "Clearly, people want things that make their lives the way they wish they were," its introduction states, and the pages that follow are filled with those very things. With chapter titles like "My orthopedist solos the pole," "Mr. Donleavy's Reminder" and "No, not an angel," the reader anticipates an exotic, enthralling life. The pages are filled with dreamily-told tales of the most extraordinary people, both attractive and successful (the two go hand in hand in the Peterman universe). They spend their days fending off polar bears with toothpicks, making television appearances, and "toying with what seemed to be an egg slicer of advanced Finnish design." The writers of the J. Peterman catalog know, however, that what is left to the imagination is a vital ingredient in a good fantasy. They leave enough unsaid (and offer only illustrations, not photographs, of the clothing) to suck in even the most stoic of readers. A classic of the genre.
	L.L. Bean takes an entirely different tack, sticking to straightforward descriptions and pictures that conjure a wholesome, rugged, simple way of life. This catalog eschews any kind of tale-spinning — about as wild as it gets is: "Our classic north country blankets have been tested and proven on the coldest Maine winter nights." However, this is wholly in keeping with the no-nonsense L.L. Bean image, and while not exactly gripping, the catalog has a certain literary integrity that must be admired. Land's End heads in a slightly more inventive direction: While not entering into Petermanesque imagery, the catalog does take a few steps beyond simply detailing what you get. However, it appears the Land's End catalog hasn't quite found its voice yet. The Writing occasionally veers into spiteful competitiveness ("And they're a far cry from all the cheapo nylon warm-ups out there") or embarrassing self-praise ("Why have so many of our customers fallen for this nubbly Cobble Cloth Crew?") The Land's End catalog is the work of an immature writer: It shows promise, but needs to grow and mature into a more well-rounded and confident work. The Neiman Marcus catalog is promisingly titled "The Book," with a price tag to match ($10!). However, I was disappointed to find that it is actually more like an everyday glossy fashion magazine. There is no literary content to speak of, just the merest of descriptions in the corner of artsy full-page photographs. We can see that it's a "Gucci black calfskin belt with square nickel �G� buckle" for $130; the question of what it can do for us is left sadly unfulfilled. Alas, this catalog clearly opts for style over substance. The Sharper Image catalog's forte is the creation of scenarios where the moment is saved by just the right overpriced gadget. "There's nothing like a fine cigar for riding out a tornado, hurricane, cyclone, or monsoon. Of course, when the furniture starts to levitate, a regular lighter is virtually useless. Fortunately, you have the intrepid new Cyber lighter." The authors of this catalog have thought of every eventuality, giving the reader the chance to feel not only sophisticated and cultured but downright practical as well. And it adds a whimsical touch with items like the $395 "Yoda, the Jedi Master" statuette.
	Now, Victoria's Secret certainly knows a thing or two about fantasy, in spite of its relatively straightforward text. Instead of elaborate verbal scenarios, it uses the intriguing device of showing the same models throughout the catalog (and in subsequent issues) in varying ensembles and scenes. You can get to know them and create your own stories, for unlike the successful, worldly protagonists of J. Peterman, the women of Victoria's Secret don't wear enough clothes to suggest a career. The underwear is only a seductive introduction: Dress them up (or down) with any career and wardrobe you please — maybe even your own! The female reader can identify with certain characters, pick the ones she likes or dislikes, and dream about achieving that airbrushed perfection in real life (it's hard to avoid a little masochistic comparing when poring over these pages). And while the catalog focuses on women's merchandise, it clearly offers fun and fantasy for the male reader too. When you've had your fill of all that, there are the classic Victoria's Secret games, such as "Spot the Fake Ones," or "Spot the Former Man." All in all, the Victoria's Secret catalog remains a standard in escapism. (Frederick's of Hollywood, on the other hand, has no literary value whatsoever, and is useful only if you're interested in the art of come-hither attire.) For a different kind of fantasy world, the reader would be well-advised to open the Archie McPhee catalog. These "Outfitters of Popular Culture" lead you through a world filled with spark-spewing Godzillas, glow bone maracas, and Martian Popping Things. Each item's description is a mini-vacation unto itself. From childhood jokes ("Is your nose running? You'd better catch it!") to self-evaluation ("Ask yourself, 'Am I a wimp?' If not, buy these") to moral instruction ("The Fighting Nun is our most popular punching puppet, and with good reason: she has a habit of fighting for what's right"), this catalog is sure to perk up your spirits on one of those days when life seems bleak. The authors of these catalogs have stumbled onto a truth about people. J. Peterman flirts with the concept of empowerment, but understands that people want THINGS to make their lives the way they wish they were — even though we probably know that wearing "Thomas Jefferson's Shirt" is not going to magically imbue us with leadership qualities. The savvy reader will realize that one can escape from everyday reality by reading these delightful works; actually purchasing the items within is fully optional, and not likely to have any additional life-changing benefit. Jenny Boe grew up in Berkeley and now lives in Seattle, where she writes, temps, and maintains a Tripod homepage. She has recently rediscovered the joys of the International House of Pancakes. © 1997 Tripod, Inc. All Rights Reserved.