things that people do in books

There are many swanky editions of F. Scott Fitzgerald's 1920 breakthrough novel, This Side of Paradise, but one of my favorites is the Dover Thrift paperback, still a bargain at just $3.50.

Somewhere in his mind a conversation began, rather 

resumed its place in his attention. It was composed not 

of two voices, but of one, which acted alike as 

questioner and answerer:

Question.--Well--what's the situation?

Answer.--That I have about twenty-four dollars to my name....

Q.--Can you live?

A.--I can't imagine not being able to. People make money in books and
I've found that I can always do the things that people do in books.
Really they are the only things I can do. 

This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald 

captain alatriste

A paperback copy of this appeared mysteriously on my desk at work and I never did find out who left it there -- so to begin with, the novel had an aura of real life intrigue beyond the already swashbuckling story of Arturo Pérez-Reverte's Captain Alatriste in 17th century Spain.  It's not annoyingly swashbuckling or adventurous, however, and has fine notes of dark humor and character throughout.  In fact, when I first discovered the book I flipped through it and was hooked by this passage:

It was evident that he and his companion had seen death face to face, with no soft lights or heroic drumrolls, but in the dark, and nearly in the back, like rats in an alleyway and several leagues from anything resembling glory.

The original was published in 1996 and this is the Plume/Penguin 2005 translation.  Arturo Pérez-Reverte is also quite interesting to follow on Twitter, if you habla español and enjoy Twitter being used in a fun and historical-literary way.

moon and sixpence

This pictured Penguin edition of W. Somerset Maugham's The Moon and Sixpence seems to be from 1979, with a colorfully collaged but maybe vaguely racist cover.  Maugham's 1919 novel focuses on Charles Strickland, a British stockbroker who leaves his comfortable, business-oriented lifestyle to pursue a passion for painting.  The story parallels the true quest of Paul Gauguin, though Strickland doesn't really have the same charisma that Gauguin did -- or at least not for me.  Like many of Maugham's tales it involves the amiable and neutrally observing Maugham-narrator, who usually happens to stroll into an unfolding major drama and then becomes everyone's confidant.  Such as how Mrs. Strickland (Amy) asks our narrator to go find her husband in Paris after he suddenly abandons his family.  Our narrator protests, as he often does:

"But I've not spoken ten words to your husband.  He doesn't know me.  He'll probably just tell me to go to the Devil."

Still, Mrs. Strickland persists even though she doesn't know our narrator too well either, and of course he goes to Paris and beyond and that's how we get our story.

strange interlude

Not that I have any issues with Nook or Kindle -- I love them like I've loved every minute of the Internet Age -- but there are just so many used books on real paper out there from years gone by and they're still hard to resist.  They may be mildewed or dog-eared or stained with coffee, or they smell like someone's basement or attic or are full of crazy scrawled notes in the margins; they may have ridiculously dated cover art or the name of a total stranger written on the cover page -- but that's why they're irresistible.  They've been on mysterious journeys, traveled on planes and trains, ended up in yard sales or at thrift shops or -- if they're lucky -- at a good old-fashioned secondhand or rare bookstore. 

This particular book is really the play Strange Interlude by Eugene O'Neil in book form, published by Boni & Liveright in 1928.  Albert Boni and Horace Liveright re-energized American publishing in the early part of the 20th century by printing works by then-modernist authors like O'Neil and also Theodore Dreiser, Ernest Hemingway and William Faulker -- to name a few.  This edition of Strange Interlude has an inscription as you can see:

Charlotte

from 
Madge & Roy
-- Xmas 1928

You have to wonder who Charlotte was, along with Madge & Roy.  My guess is that they probably weren't too traditional since they were reading Boni & Liveright and because Xmas is used, something that wasn't too common back in the 1920s, i.e., leaving the Christ out of Christmas.  Otherwise the book cover is falling off of the binding and there seems to be a pawprint on the inside leaf.  Strange Interlude was found in a box of wayward books at a church sale, and I think it cost about 50 cents.

ACT ONE/SCENE:  The library of PROFESSOR LEEDS' home in a small university town in New England...a small room with a low ceiling.  The furniture has been selected with a love for old New England pieces.  The walls are lined almost to the ceiling with glassed-in bookshelves....