The phrase “enjoying a good book” conjures up visions of kicking back in your favorite chair, sipping idly from a mug of your favorite tea while tumbling into a world that belongs to only two people -- you and the author. Literature has always thrived in private, whether it’s the inspiring squalor of the garret or the musty, secret smell of an old book that crackles as you turn the pages.

Replace that smell with the odor of cigarette smoke, swap the English Breakfast for a pint of lager and trade the comfy chair for a pair of dancing shoes, and you're on the way to The 215 Festival, which mixes readings, rock bands and assorted mayhem Oct. 17-20. Founded by Philadelphia expat Neal Pollack, currently awaiting the birth of his first child in his new home in Austin, the 215 is an outgrowth of last year's McSweeney's festival, and features many of the same authors. Dave Eggers, Zadie Smith, Sarah Vowell and Arthur Bradford make repeat appearances, with Jeffrey Eugenides, Jonathan Ames, Jennifer Egan, Shelley Jackson and Ben Marcus in tow. And those are just the writers: The full bill includes a Saturday night show with They Might Be Giants (the unofficial McSwy's house band) as well as North Star gigs with local favorites like Ursula Rucker, Lefty's Deceiver and The Bigger Lovers, as well as a documentary screening and a "Top Secret After-Hours Party." (A schedule of Festival events is available on p. 60.)

Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, eh? Pollack -- whose tongue-in-cheek account of the festival's founding follows -- likes to contrast the 215 with The New Yorker Festival's more august offerings. "It's not going to be ŒAn Evening With Jonathan Franzen and David Foster Wallace,'" he says by phone. "If I'm gonna pay $15 to get into something, it had better be more than a couple of guys in early middle age reading their portentous fiction. If you're single and you go to a literary event, there should at least be the faint hope that you're gonna get laid. That doesn't happen at a book reading."

Biological imperatives aside, there are plenty of reasons to check out the 215 (and if you can keep your libido in check, the Philadelphia Book Festival, also in its second year. See p. 62 for details). In addition to screening his documentary How's Your News?, about the cross-country travels of a group of handicapped adults, Arthur Bradford is scheduled to bring the HYN crew with him, and they may even turn up on stage at the TLA on Saturday the 19th. Also on board for that gig are the Trachtenburg Family Slide Show Players, who write mini-operettas around other people's vacation slides. Friday's "Writers Who Rock & Rockers Who Write" at The North Star should produce some interesting sparks as well; it's probably the only time you'll see suave poet Ursula Rucker and yelp-rocker Gilmore Tamney (of the aptly-named Yips) on the same stage.

On the other hand, there's cause for a little skepticism with regard to the performance-as-literature aesthetic. Anyone who attended last year's festival will remember Arthur Bradford's appearance, during which he read a short story while strumming an acoustic guitar which he smashed at the story's conclusion. Now, does anyone remember the story? (As I recall, it involved a slug.) Eggers, perhaps the most substantial writer of the McSwy's gang -- see John Freeman's review of Eggers' new novel on p. 62-- read a hilarious but almost aggressively inconsequential piece called "Why Do People Laugh at Savings?", while Smith countered with an account of her book tour focusing on "famous authors and their hair." (Actually, the piece went down a lot easier than Smith's overwritten White Teeth.) The 215's authors are looking to make a splash, but sometimes you get the feeling that the water isn't that deep.

Still, it's not hard to get excited about Philadelphia's homegrown rock 'n' reading bash, which Pollack hopes to keep a "destination event." Though Pollack remains the "nominal head," most of this year's organizing was done by a local committee headed by Big Jar co-owner Mary Richardson Graham (and including CP contributors Elisa Ludwig and Meredith Broussard), so even though Pollack's left town, don't expect the festival to follow suit. Austin's area code is 512 -- can you picture them trying to do the same thing, only backwards?