I’m a sucker for those “collector’s” reprints of various firearms related books, like the stuff in the Palladium Press Firearms Classics Library. I’m not a total sucker: Half-Price Books gets these in every once in a while, and while I’m generally not willing to pay their marked price ($30-$35), if there’s a sale or a coupon, I’m there.
I know they generally don’t have a lot of value to book collectors, but that’s fine: I think they look nice on the shelves. Plus, to take one example, I think I paid $15 for Ordnance Went Up Front. Amazon has a Kindle edition for $9, but I’d rather pay the extra few dollars for a nice physical copy. And there’s a lot of that stuff that doesn’t have a Kindle edition.
This is a different publisher, and a little more expensive, but there’s a catch:
Capstick, Peter Hathaway. Death In a Lonely Land: More Hunting, Fishing, and Shooting on Five Continents. Derrydale Press, 1990.
Yes, it’s a reprint. A “limited” edition reprint of 2,500 numbered copies, which makes it almost certainly worthless to collectors and anybody who doesn’t have the word “sucker” stamped on their forehead.
(looks in mirror)
Well, I’ll be darned. Where did that come from?
But I digress.
I don’t remember exactly how I first came into possession of Death in the Long Grass: I want to say I was a teenager (or pre-teen?) visiting my maternal grandmother, we went by a bookstore on one of our rare ventures out of the house, either I talked her into buying it for her grandchild or I had some pocket money of my own, and…
…I was already kind of gun-crazy at the time, but that book was a revelation to me. It wasn’t just that the whole “let’s go hunting elephants in Africa” thing appealed to me as I was straining the bounds of my existence: it was also that the guy could write. The young me found him sometimes screamingly funny. The old me still does. I think sometimes I even try a little too hard to emulate Capstick’s prose style, the end result being something like if you left my prose next to a complete collection of Capstick books and a gallon of milk for a week in a non-working refrigerator outside in a Texas July.
Point being, I didn’t just want to hunt lions and tigers and buffalo like Capstick, I wanted to write like him as well. At least back in those days. These days, I’m working on developing my own style, but Capstick is still an influence.
This was $75, marked down by 50% because of the coupon. It was still a little more than I would usually have paid, but this book has one great advantage that my other Capstick books don’t:
Capstick died in 1996 of complications from, of all things, heart bypass surgery. I never met him – I don’t think he did a lot of book tours, and I don’t move in Safari Club circles – so this is the only signed Capstick in my library right now. It was worth it to me, and to that small boy inside me.
I have to say, a book like that, signed, would be worth a hell of a lot more to me on my shelf, than some craptastic piece of garbage by Hillary Clinton or one of the authors of modern fiction that go on some of tours today. Sure there are some very capable writers today, but most of them can’t hold a candle to the authors like Earnie Pyle or a Norman Mailer. I never had the privilege of having an autographed copy of any of the greats, but I did have the luck to have parents who, even though they were working class, and my dad was an 8th grade drop out, they were readers of good writers. And so, I was able to read a lot. It is how I was able to basically build my own mind, and form my lifelong love of learning. My first companion was a battered set of encyclopedias. And the dictionary, and an old King James Bible. I tried to teach my kids that if you can’t spell, then no matter how smart you were, people would think you were dumb. Keep up the blog, it is just so cool and you never know who you might reach out to on a given day.
Pigpen:
Thank you for the most gracious comment. It sounds like your childhood was a lot like mine: further, deponent sayeth not.
And you’re right: you never know who you might reach out to on a given day, and I’m constantly surprised when anyone comments here, let alone some of the people who have actually commented.