The Marriage of Sticks by Jonathan Carroll Read Free Book Online Page A

demographic charts and terms like gemeinschaft and gesellschaft were. For extra money I found a job at a used book store and was lucky enough to be there the day a man came in with two cardboard boxes of books to sell. Among them was a signed limited edition of Faulkner’s The Hamlet, which happened to be on the reading list of a course I was taking. Knowing it was valuable, I showed it to the owner of the store. He said I could keep it because I’d been honest and was a good worker. I took the book to class to show the professor. His eyes widened and he asked if I would sell it to him for a hundred dollars. There was something in his tone that made me suspicious. I looked up the telephone numbers of several rare book dealers and called to ask what the book was worth.
    Nothing is permanent, but books are one of the few things that come close. Hearing how valuable the Faulkner was, I realized I had been made privy to one of life’s small secrets, which was that there are objects that mean nothing to most people, but everything to some. What’s more, if you knew anything about the subject, you quickly discovered collecting books was one of the last real treasure hunts possible in this age. There are old books everywhere and most people don’t care about them. The few who do will go to remarkable lengths to possess them.
    As I continued, I realized I was good at the job—this in itself is a great reward. I loved my customers’ excitement and delight with what I found. I loved the serendipity of the hunt. My heart still pounded on seeing something unique or important in a junk store, second-hand shop, a Salvation Army bin in the bad section of some downtown. Slowly reaching out, I would take it in my hand, knowing one of the greatest pleasures of all was here. Opening the book, I would check the first pages to make sure it was what I thought. Yes, there was the proof if you knew what to look for—the letter A, or the even more obvious first edition. Other indications, emblems, marks…the secret alphabet and language of book collectors. On the inside front cover someone would have carelessly written in pencil, $1 or 50¢. I paid ten cents in Louisville for the most beautiful first edition of The Great Gatsby I’ve ever seen. Five dollars for The Enormous Room. I couldn’t understand why more people weren’t doing this. Even if you knew only a little about the subject, it was like looking for gold everywhere you went.
    After reading the journals of Edward Weston and Paul Strand, I became interested in photography. That opened up an altogether new world, not to mention business opportunity. On a trip to Los Angeles, I discovered a large box of photographs at a yard sale. Most were of strangers, but some subjects were famous movie stars of the 1930s and ’40s. What struck me was how beautifully the pictures were lit and how naturally the people had been posed. On the back of each was a stamp with the photographer’s name, Hurrell, and address. I bought them and never forgot the look on the woman’s face as I handed her money: it said I was a sucker and she was the winner. But even then, without ever having heard of the great photographer George Hurrell, I knew she was wrong.
    “Miranda?”
    I came out of a daze to see one of my favorite people in the world standing at the door.
    “Clayton! I’m sorry, I was daydreaming.”
    “The sign of all great minds. Give your old boss a hug.”
    We embraced and, as usual, he had on another mysteriously beautiful cologne that made me swoon.
    “What are you wearing today?”
    “Something French. Called Diptyque, which I think is appropriate for a bookseller, wouldn’t you say?”
    “Absolutely. Where have you been, Clayton? I haven’t heard a word from you in months.” I took his hand and led him to a chair. He sat down and looked slowly around before speaking. He must have been sixty, but looked years younger. A full head of hair—and the wrinkles on his face came mostly