![]() ![]() I chose to take the author on headfirst in order of publishing. I’ve been on my Ellery Queen journey for several months now (I believe that I started back in April), and I’ve managed to grind out a meager two books. In that sense, this has been a pure joy to hold, and I’ve savored the mere turn of each page. The feeling is incomparable to any other book I possess – the most desperate analogy that I can conjure is that of silk. The pages are the very definition of paper thin – the writing, and in some cases the imprint of the printing itself, is clearly visible through each page. My Pocket Book edition is the seventh printing (from October of 1942), and it is a beauty to behold. This time though, I was lured beyond the cover by the pure beauty of the corpus itself. I have two copies of The Tragedy of X, and if I were to go purely by cover, I’d have read my Avon copy (the publishing year of which I haven’t been able to figure out). ![]() Is it possible to fall in love with a book? No, not the novel contained within, but the physical object itself. ![]()
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