Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke

First Edition, First Printing
Cream colored jacket with dark red endpapers
As New
Bloomsbury, 2004


This is the second first-edition book that I bought with an intent to collect. I saw it on the shelf at J. Michaels and knew I'd purchase it before the week was out.
I'd just recently read it, passing through the pages for pleasure, knowing that I'd probably not have more than two or three conversations about the book in my lifetime, but who knows . . . . The story was intriguing and the illustrations by Portia Rosenberg were a nice addition. Like in the Heritage Press reprints, the drawings were fun to come by now and then.
While reading Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, I realized that there is something that often marks an author's first book. What is at the front of my mind with Clarke's novel is the wandering plot prevalent in the second half. After I'd been drawn in by the book's premise and characters, Clarke took me on a meandering trail of events not necessarily in line with the main conflict between Strange, Norrell, and the Fairy gentleman. But here I'm getting too wrapped up in criticism. I really enjoyed this book as escapist literature and would love to read a sequel. Oh, I did check out the collection of stories by Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu, but couldn't get through the collection. Perhaps they were too secondary to the main plot, perhaps I'm not as into magic arts and fairies and such as I was when I read Clarke's first book. But I think I'd like to revisit Jonathan Strange and Stephen and the rest. Besides, a hit sequel would only add to the value of the first edition I already own.
On a side note, I'm moving this week and am dreading the inevitable boxing and unboxing of all my books. I've got four ceiling-to-floor bookcases stuffed with mostly reader's copies of titles I can't bring myself to sell until I've got a better edition. I am envisioning myself bringing in fifteen or more heavy boxes, with my new neighbor looking on and asking, "You think you've got enough stuff?" and me replying, "These are just my books." To that his brow furrows, he forgets he watering the petunias and soaks his shoes as he thinks, "Man, that guy's got a problem."
And I do.

Geek Love by Katherine Dunn

First Edition, First Printing
As New
Alfred A. Knopf, 1989


This is the first first I ever bought with the intent to buy a first. I bought it at J. Michaels Books for $32 down from $40 because I had a coupon. I'd seen another first of Geek Love at Smith Family Bookstore for $35, but it was a remainder and the dust jacket was faded from the washed orange to a dirty yellow on the binding, as I've heard often happens with this book..
When I saw it at J. Michaels four months ago, I knew I was about to embark on a new and expensive hobby.
I've bought at least five copies of Geek Love and am in the market for another reader's copy. It's a book I keep around to gift to people, most of whom are visiting the Pacific Northwest. My reasons for gifting this particular book are probably a little snobby: I like people to know that I read edgy books, and revel in the thought that they are reading it for the first time and thinking, "Man, that guy's weird."
Who have I given it to thus far. . . . The first copy I owned I gave to an old friend's girlfriend. I hadn't seen this friend for years. One day I got an e-mail from him saying he'd be in Portland for a few days, so I wrote him back and said I'd meet him there. He was coming to town to attend a sex seminar with his girlfriend, who wrote for playgirl magazine. Thinking it rude to meet someone and note have a gift, I grabbed my copy of Geek Love as I ran out the door to catch the Amtrak to Portland.
Coincidentally, she loved the book. Two years later when my wife and I visited the same couple in New York, my friend's girlfriend returned the favor by gifting my wife and I with a vibrating cock ring. I suppose she wanted us glean something about her from her gift as well.
Others who have received the book are my friend Aaron, who didn't read it because his wife had just given birth and he thought it would give him nightmares; John, who I shouldn't have gifted it to for reasons I don't want to go into; and most recently, my friend Chuck from Denver, who just visited a few weeks ago with his chain-smoking, cat-loving social-worker girlfriend.
Now I have an edition that I'll never give away, and I can be reminded of these people and more people in the future every time I see the book on my shelf.