I suppose this one is really on me: on my greed, my folly, and my haste. This will make the fourth copy of Jurgen I have bought.
The first was the terrible paperback by a publisher that thought of it as an
erotic classic; the second was a cheap Dover reprint (though it came with all
of Frank C. Pape’s illustrations); and then there was the rather plain volume
from the Storisende edition. I came across this copy on eBay while I was researching
prices for Cabell books, and it caught my attention. Fifty dollars? That was
much cheaper than the $100 that it had been going for. Illustrated? Who could
that be by, other than the great Frank C. Pape himself?
Well, it could be by Ray F.
Coyle, that’s who, and if I had slowed down a bit and done a little more
research I might have realized it. Ray Coyle was a short-lived (1885 – 1924)
artist whose work in pen and ink has been compared to Aubrey Beardsley. Not a
style I’m particularly fond of. Only when I have one of those black hardcovers
by McBride with pictures by Frank C. Pape can I finally stop buying Jurgen.
It’s not like it’s even my favorite Cabell (that would be The Silver Stallion), nor do I reread it often. Although it might be Cabell’s most famous book, its reputation is, indeed, a little embarrassing.
The Real McCoy (Not McCoyle)
It’s not like it’s even my favorite Cabell (that would be The Silver Stallion), nor do I reread it often. Although it might be Cabell’s most famous book, its reputation is, indeed, a little embarrassing.
Also arriving today was the
copy of The Monk by Matthew G. Lewis that I had been considering. A
little battered, but inexpensive and serviceable; it only needed a little care
to make it presentable.
No comments:
Post a Comment