I know, I know. If I’m not chastising people for the pretty-stock-photo-and-letterspaced-white-type approach, I’m praising them for it. What do you want from me? The fact is, it’s become a cliché because when it’s good, it’s really good. That doesn’t make it any less of a cliché! Anyway, The Pesthouse. The hardcover didn’t do much for me. It was literary, sure — it was also rather inscrutable. And though it tried not to be, it was a little pretty. All in all, a bit of a snore. The paperback, designed by Helen Yentus, may not be the most dynamic cover we’ve seen lately, but it gets the book exactly right. Where the other one was a tiny bit pretty, this one’s a tiny bit spooky. There’s no bird scene in the book, that I recall, but you can’t look at this and not wonder if something’s gone wrong, and if so what. Which is pretty much the book in a nutshell. The type is tasteful and confident; the embossed title is crisp in that way that requires you to run your fingers across it. I’m not sure it will find the book a flood of new readers, but a girl can hope.