Wow...uh, wow.

One of the wonderful novels purchased from Deseret Industries I mentioned in my last blog happened to be a first edition of Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls. When I saw it on the shelf I was thrilled because I read it in jail, wanted a copy, and the new paperback Hemingways never cost less than $14. I just saw a hardcover in decent condition and grabbed it, never thinking it was anything special. How this book ever managed to find its way to the basement of the Sugarhouse DI must be a story which would evoke many palm-to-forehead slaps of disbelief; what I am most reminded of is the Simpson's episode when Comic Book Guy offers to buy a box of original Star Wars memorabilia (complete with an alternate ending- Chewbacca is Luke's father- and Princess Leia's anti-jiggle boob tape) for ten dollars. However it ended up on that shelf, I'm awfully damn glad I saw it.

Today I took it into Sam Weller's bookstore, both to verify that the book is a first edition and to get a rough appraisal as to its value. The resident used-book buyer told me that it is indeed a first edition and then casually added that the lack of a dust-jacket would reduce the value of the book by several thousand dollars. Several thousand freakin' dollars!

'OK, so what, ballpark, would you estimate as the book's value?'

database searching...database searching...

'Somewhere around 5200 dollars.'

I don't know if anyone has ever experienced the peculiar combination of being immensely stunned at your good fortune (a sense of being knocked on your psychological ass would be a better description) and being torn between material and bibliophilic greed. For the rest of the day I'm sure I wasn't much more lucid than a sleepwalker. Five grand would be enough money to buy a car, and pay off many, many debts- leaving enough to supply me with alcohol for months. On the other hand, I've always aspired to possess a 'whoa'- evoking library, and a first-edition Hemingway that I got for two dollars would certainly qualify as 'whoa'-evoking. Plus it's a wonderful story.

Dreaming all day of what I could buy with $5,000, I eventually decided to keep the book. Most people whom I told agreed I was an idiot, but pointing out that the book's value would only accrue over time shut them up.

When I've had sizeable sums of money in the past they have quickly departed, leaving me with a few more clothes and stuff (yes, "stuff" is the best noun), but with the same mindset and material aspirations as before. I'll always want more money and possessions, but how often is a bookworm blessed with a find as serendipitous as this? (Doubtless with many misgivings) For Whom the Bell Tolls shall remain on my bookshelf.