The celebrated “book-handling” series of columns was inspired by Myles’s alleged visit to the home of a friend – “a man of great wealth and vulgarity” who had bought a ready-made library to go with his furniture. He had not yet read any of the books, however, and with his pressurised lifestyle was unlikely to find time. So it struck Myles that there was a gap in the market for a professional book-distressing service. Our centenary supplement included his introduction to the “popular” and “premier” grades. Here he describes his luxury product – FRANK McNALLY.
IT WILL be remembered (how, in Heaven’s name, could it be forgotten?) that I was discoursing on Friday last on the subject of book-handling, my new service, which enables ignorant people who want to be suspected of reading books to have their books handled and mauled in a manner that will give the impression that their owner is very devoted to them. I described three grades of handling and promised to explain what you get under Class Four – the Superb Handling, or the Traitement Superbe, as we lads who spent our honeymoon in Paris prefer to call it. It is the dearest of them all, of course, but far cheaper than dirt when you consider the amount of prestige you will gain in the eyes of your ridiculous friends. Here are the details:
“Le Traitement Superbe. Every volume to be well and truly handled, first by a qualified handler and subsequently by a master-handler who shall have to his credit not less than 550 handling hours; suitable passages in not less than fifty per cent of the books to be underlined in good-quality red ink and an appropriate phrase from the following list inserted in the margin, viz:
Rubbish!
Yes, indeed!
How true, how true!
I don’t agree at all.
Why?
Yes, but cf. Homer, Od., iii, 151.
Well, well, well.
Quite, but Boussuet in his Discours sur l’Histoire Universelle has already established the same point and given much more forceful explanations.
Nonsense, nonsense!
A point well taken!
But why in heaven’s name?
I remember poor Joyce saying the very same thing to me.
Need I say that a special quotation may be obtained at any time for the supply of Special and Exclusive Phrases? The extra charge is not very much, really.
That, of course, is not all. Listen to this:
“Not less than six volumes to be inscribed with forged messages of affection and gratitude from the author of each work, e.g.,
‘To my old friend and fellow-writer, A.B., in affectionate remembrance, from George Moore.’
‘In grateful recognition of your great kindness to me, dear A.B., I send you this copy of The Crock of Gold. Your old friend, James Stephens.’
‘Well, A.B., both of us are getting on. I am supposed to be a good writer now, but I am not old enough to forget the infinite patience you displayed in the old days when guiding my young feet on the path of literature. Accept this further book, poor as it may be, and please believe that I remain, as ever, your friend and admirer, G. Bernard Shaw.’
‘From your devoted friend and follower, K. Marx.’
‘Dear A.B., – Your invaluable suggestions and assistance, not to mention your kindness, in entirely re-writing chapter 3, entitles you, surely, to this first copy of Tess. From your old friend T. Hardy.’
‘Short of the great pleasure of seeing you personally, I can only send you, dear A.B., this copy of The Nigger. I miss your company more than I can say . . . (signature undecipherable).’
Under the last inscription, the moron who owns the book will be asked to write (and shown how if necessary) the phrase “Poor old Conrad was not the worst.”
All this has taken me longer to say than I thought. There is far more than this to be had for the paltry £32 7s 6d that the Superb Handling will cost you. In a day or two I hope to explain about the old letters which are inserted in some of the books by way of forgotten book-marks, every one of them an exquisite piece of forgery. Order your copy now!
To celebrate the work of Myles na gCopaleen, The Irish Timeswill print one of his Cruiskeen Lawn columns each day during October