{'fraction_non_alphanumeric': 0.02425876010781671, 'fraction_numerical': 0.0, 'mean_word_length': 4.957219251336898, 'pattern_counts': {'":': 0, '<': 0, '<?xml version=': 0, '>': 0, 'https://': 0, 'lorem ipsum': 0, 'www.': 0, 'xml': 0}, 'pii_count': 0, 'substrings_counts': 0, 'word_list_counts': {'cursed_substrings.json': 0, 'profanity_word_list.json': 0, 'sexual_word_list.json': 0, 'zh_pornsignals.json': 0}}
When art and literature unite: illustrations that create a new art form

Abstract Artists who turn their talent to illustrating novels have often found themselves in a double bind. If they restrict themselves to visualizing faithfully what the verbal artist has already created, thereby simply repeating what has already been done in another medium, they risk appearing to have subordinated their art to producing superfluous aids for the imaginatively lazy. On the other hand, if, like jazz artists doing a riff on someone else's tune, they treat the text as only a point of departure and take off where their own talents and inspiration lead them, they risk being condemned for having 'gotten it all wrong' by readers who see an illustrated edition simply as a novel with pictures. Unlike other visualizations of literature — movies, theatricalizations (plays, operas, musicals), comic books — the illustrator's work occupies the same space as the text and would therefore seem to be under some obligation to relate to and even coincide with it. Can it do so, however, and still be valid original, creative art?