Wolraich: Obama at the Gates of... Gates
Dr. C: In Praise of Writing Binges
Maiello: Gatsby Doesn't Grate
Dedicated to our heritage of books.
Found an interesting book yesterday, much in keeping with the anti-religious liberty jargon being used this week as a cover for anti-contraception views. Turns out that some actual religious persecution happened in 1941. The book is "Prisoner of War", by Kurt Molzahn, 1962. Molzahn was a Lutheran Minister in Philadelphia and was caught up in anti-German hysteria at the beginning of the war. He was accused of leading the German Gestapo in the U.S., convicted and imprisoned. Eventually his sentence was commuted by Truman and he was later pardoned by Eisenhower.
The book is in Near Fine condition, with a dust jacket that is Very Good +. It was published by Muhlenberg Press in 1962 and is signed with an inscription to Myriam and Conrad. Cost, $12. There are some other copies on the internet but none signed.
I also popped for a book I've been making passes at for a year but was finally offered a large discount so I treated myself, for somewhere near the cost of a good dinner with a fine bottle of wine. The book is "The last Ninety Days of the the War--in North Carolina", 1866, part of the second thousand printed. Publisher is Watchman, the author Cornelia Phillips Spencer. The book, for its age, is VG +, a minor flaw here or there, binding and pages tight, some foxing. One signature reads, C. D. Cochrane. An inscription from 1869 reads, "Mrs Appleton, with Mrs. Abbott's compliments. Later in 1878, Alice -----Appleton. "Presented to me by my beloved mother". The book is replete in the history of the last few months, with many first hand accounts. I love books of this vintage, with inscriptions. I'm researching it further, plus looking for an inexpensive reader's copy.
From the sublime to the ridiculous, a paper back featuring all the Burma Shave road side ads. I am old enough to remember sitting in the back seat of the car with my sister, on the lookout for Burma Shave signs through the fog of cigarette smoke and the nipping on a bottle of Early Times by my father, the driver.
NO CUTS TO HEAL
Mom, when do we get to Joplin?