for anyone who has ever loved …deeply
anyone who’s heart has ever ached
who’s been alone…
this is for you
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Note: the following is the first chapter of what was a novel-in-progress. It is the transcript of a reading by me, Ivan Von Noshrilgram Sr - celebrated philosopher-botanist, wild game hunter, exotic animal trainer, extinguished firewalker, writer and humanitarian lecturer, at the East 75 Street Community Centre, in New York City, sometime in September 1972. Please pardon any indecisiveness that may seem to exist in terms of theme, character, style, storyline, genre or raison d’être. (As an aspiring writer, these were elements I found most challenging.) Oh, and also pace. Pace, and tone... and maybe direction? Really, it was a work-in-progress; but a very scary one. It’s to be published by Doubleday in the spring of next year. Well, maybe. They don’t seem to be answering their phone. …Perhaps they’ve relocated?
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Rising above the melody, ever so slightly at first, was what could only have been the sound of a horse falling backwards, perhaps with a bookshelf of encyclopedias, down a narrow stairwell, as if to a conga rhythm. In a flash Kingsley understood that behind one of the doors before him along the hallway, a person was dancing.
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One may regard a book affectionately, watch it closely on the shelf in its natural habitat while hiding behind a potted fern, but to read is much, much more fruitful.
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