Most of mom’s books were destroyed in the fire that claimed
my nephew’s life. The material possessions are quite secondary to our greatest
loss. And I hadn’t really thought much about mom’s eclectic collection of biblical,
political, literary, poetry and pulp novels. (Yes, now you know where some of
the inspiration came from for both me and Kyle.)
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Cover illustration by Fred Pfeiffer. |
My charmers and I have been settling into a new home, and,
over this weekend, we went to the storage unit for a few items when I began rummaging
through some boxes. In them, I found a few of my mom’s books. I lit up. There
was THE PRISONER OF ZENDA by Anthony Hope. That 1968 paperback, probably bought
off a spinner rack, had a cover that simply mesmerized me as a kid before I was
even old enough to read. Who was the guy trying to escape from? Would he get
past the sentries on the bridge?
Zenda!
The very name sounded like excitement.
Ronald Coleman—one of mom’s favorite actors—starred in the
1937 film adaptation, and I still remember how her eyes would grow wide when
she said his name. “What a magnificent actor!” she’d rave, then she’d
add very dramatically, “I always loved movies of Kings and Queens!” She must
have told me that a thousand times as I was growing up. I smile now when I imagine
my mom as an eleven-year-old girl thrilled about going to see her favorite actors
fight it out on the silver screen.
I think I will hermetically seal this paperback. Yep. Going
to save it for another generation ... “Ava, let me tell you about THE PRISONER
OF ZENDA. Here’s your grandmother’s copy ...”