Spo-reflections on a set of old books.

 I want to thank Spo-fans far and near for their praises of  the last post. The chief reason I blog is my passion to write. Most of what I scribble is nonsense and dribble but occasionally something pulls together into thoughtful and pretty prose. Yesterday’s entry felt like a success and I was blithe others thought so as well. The Board of Directors Here at Spo-Reflections was also pleased as punch. They sent me a bonus barrel of mead (the dears!) They also adamantly deny they are responsible for Notre Dame. They may relish in pyro-shenanigans towards public buildings but they are no fools to touch something that big.  

Last weekend when I visited Brother #3 we had nice morning going through his library looking at his collection of books. My Tsundoku is quite active; the last thing I need is more books. However I am always on the look-out for fabulous findings and recommendations.

On his shelf sits a collection of books from our youth. These are the “Alfred Hitchcock and the three investigators” mystery series. A group of lads go about and solve mysteries. I read these tomes instead of “The Hardy Boys”. Would you believe it – I didn’t think I was ‘butch’ enough to read the latter. * Laying eyes on these ancient tomes lit up my eyes to elicit a euphoria the type one gets when you stumble upon a childhood memento you haven’t seen in decades but seeing them you immediately recall them and all they entailed. B#3 found them in the basement of The Progenitors; he took the lot home hoping someday my nephew The Posthumous Thomas will read them.

We noticed (as can you in the photo) some in series are missing. We can’t recall if we never had them or they are lost. This raised a mystery to solve of its own. Next time he visits The Progenitors he will try to find them. If he is unsuccessful we will hit Ebay and buy the missing ones. Meanwhile I will do some research: how they came to be and how long they went on etc.

After we finished the tour, I took down The Mystery of the Talking Skull, which is one I books I remember enjoying, and I read a few chapters. Do you ever reread your childhood favorites? I do. This is usually a mixed bag of emotions.  There is a satisfaction nothing like rereading a story that quickly comes back to mind. On the other hand these reads are never are quite as stirring or as magical as when they were first read. “Talking Skull” wasn’t scary or as deep as I remembered. There was a sense of camp to it viz. failed seriousness.  Oh well, I am no longer ten years old.

Someday after we complete the set I hope to read them all. How many times have I said that before! I’ve got to make a more concerted effort to make time for reading. If I don’t I fear ‘The three investigators’ will sit on the shelf taunting me as books do when they want you to pick them out and enter them again.

 

*I probably still am not.