You follow desire, and you are not satisfied.
Again you follow desire, and again you are not satisfied.
Again you try, and again you are not satisfied.

Lama Zopa Rinpoche

por·nog·ra·phy (pôr-nŏg’rə-fē) n.
1. Explicit pictures, writing, or other material whose primary purpose is to cause arousal.

If that’s the dictionary definition of pornography, then the Pacific Book Auction catalog for the Fine Books auction to be held on March 18th in San Francisco qualifies as porn for me because, baby, I’m aroused.

Long-time readers and family know that I chase after rare books. I have a theory that I started this hobby as a sop to my low self esteem. I spent my early years defining myself as someone without a college degree. I felt pretty bad about it. Don’t laugh. Pretty Manhattan girls and potential employers like to see a fat degree on your CV. If you haven’t got one, it’s hard to get hired. Or kissed.

I thought that collecting rare books would be seen as an intellectual pursuit, but a funny thing happened along the way. I actually fell in love with it. What a happy accident!

There are a few important pieces in the upcoming auction that are well out of my range of affordability, but they’re worth mentioning. For instance, this is a first edition of Galileo’s groundbreaking work from 1613 whereby he advocated the idea that the planets orbit the sun, which earned him a censure from the dolts in the Vatican. It almost cost him his life. You have to understand; this book NEVER comes up for auction. Auction estimate: $20,000-$30,000.

This rather ordinary looking piece of paper is a leaf (page) from a Gutenberg Bible (c. 1450-1455). It’s not a stretch to say this page came from a book that altered the course of civilization. The Gutenberg Bibles were the first books printed on a movable type letterpress. Prior to these, it was all quills, parchment and sexually frustrated monks locked in towers.

There aren’t many Gutenberg Bibles left because as the centuries passed, people discovered that you could make a hell of a lot more money by disassembling them and selling the individual pages than you could by selling the whole book. If you ever come to New York, there’s a Gutenberg Bible on permanent display in the Morgan Library and also in the big New York Public Library on 42nd and Madison. For this single leaf, the auction estimate is $40,000-$50,000.

Here’s a first edition of Catcher in the Rye with its iconic dust jacket designed by E. Michael Mitchel. The illustration features the Central Park carousel. (The same carousel that’s still up and running today.) The whole thing is beautiful. The design. The color scheme. The fonts. It makes me woozy when I see one in person at a rare book fair. And it’s a pretty good read, too. Auction estimate: $6,000-$9,000.

WTF happened to me? I’ve said this before but it bears repeating; I use to drive drunk, smoke as much weed as I could get my hands on, have unprotected sex and dabble in narcotics. Now, I chase rare books. As Ray Davies would say, where have all the good times gone?

As the years peel away, your tastes change. Authors, musicians, artists, etc. fall in and out of favor. But there’s always that one defining body of work that stays with you. That helped shape you and continues to provide nourishment.

When I was 22 and in the Coast Guard, my brother gave me a book by Charles Bukowski. Bukowski is not a great writer. His output isn’t very literary. You won’t find him being taught in the universities. But all of these decades later, his stuff still speaks to me on a very visceral level. I actually got a chill when I read these again. As though I was reading them for the first time. Talk about the gift that keeps on giving!

Here are a few samples from that book my brother gave me, Mockingbird Wish Me Luck, when Bukowski was, in my opinion, at the peak of his powers.

style

style is the answer to everything —
a fresh way to approach a dull or a
dangerous thing.
to do a dull thing with style
is preferable to doing a dangerous thing
without it.

Joan of Arch had style
John the Baptist
Christ
Socrates
Caesar,
Garcia Lorca.

style is the difference,
a way of doing
a way of being done.

6 herons standing quietly in a pool of water
or you walking out the bathroom naked
without seeing
me.

and the moon and the stars
and the world:

long walks at
night —
that’s what’s good
for the
soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired
housewives
trying to fight
off
their beer-maddened
husbands.

Bukowski wrote this one for his daughter when she was about 8. Same age as my daughter, who’s upstairs sleeping as I type these words.

marina:

majestic, magic
infinite
my little girl is
sun
on the carpet —
out the door
picking a
flower, ha!,
an old man,
battle-wrecked,
emerges from his
chair
and she looks at me
but only sees
love,
ha!, and I become
quick with the world
and love right back
just like I was meant
to do.

And lots of it.

During the course of the story, the following happens. Hang in there because it keeps getting worse (which is to say, better).

Roman General vanquishes Goths. Goth Queen begs for son’s life but General stabs him in front of her. Claims it was his “religious duty.” Queen vows revenge. (Who wouldn’t?)

Roman Emperor was suppose to marry General’s daughter, but she runs away with Emperor’s brother with the aid of General’s sons. General feels sons have “betrayed” Rome and, in a fit of rage, stabs one of them, killing him.

Goth Queen marries Roman Emperor instead. During hunting expedition, Goth Queen’s sons murder General’s son-in-law, throws his carcass into a pit and then rapes General’s daughter. To keep her quiet, they cut out her tongue and cut off both of her hands. She spends the remainder of the play with two stumps and bloody clothes.

General’s two sons are framed for the murder of their brother-in-law by Queen’s Henchman and are carted off for execution. Henchman tells General that Emperor will spare son’s life if he chops off his (the General’s) hand. General chops off hand, Henchman takes it away. General spends remainder of play with a stump.

Had enough? Well, too bad. We’re just getting warmed up.

It turns out that the Henchman was lying about the Emperor sparing the General’s sons. The two severed heads are brought in and presented to the General, along with his hand that was needlessly sacrificed. Henchman laughs. General picks up heads of sons, his daughter picks up the severed hand WITH HER TEETH and they sulk off stage, vowing revenge.

Queen delivers baby. Baby is of mixed race. Uh oh! Henchman is black! Nurse that delivers news is strangled and Henchman flees with baby. Eventually, Henchman is captured and is buried up to his chest and left to starve to death. He is unrepentant and says he would do it all over again.

Queen’s sons are captured (don’t ask!). General castrates them (without anesthesia) and slits their throats. Daughter holds a basin IN HER STUMPS and catches draining blood. Blood and ground-up heads are baked into a pie. (You see where this is going, right?)

The next day at a banquet, General asks Emperor if a father should kill his daughter if she has been raped. He replies, “Yes, so she doesn’t have to live with the shame.” General snaps daughter’s neck, killing her instantly. Queen asks recipe for delicious pie she just consumed and is told she ate her sons. General jumps up on table and cuts Queen’s throat. Emperor eviscerates General. General’s lone remaining son stabs Emperor. General’s son becomes new Emperor and first order of business is to have Queen’s body tossed into the wilderness where it can be “devoured by wild beasts.”

Did I leave anybody out? I don’t think so. This is not the latest in the Saw series. It’s Shakespeare! Supposedly. Though attributed to him, many scholars doubt that he actually wrote it. The violence is so graphic and characters so over-the-top that they don’t think it’s his. T.S. Elliot deemed it “THE WORST PLAY EVER WRITTEN.” That’s a bold statement.

The production of Titus Andronicus I saw at the American Globe Theater was well staged and the costumes were pretty cool for such a small production. A few of the principals were good but many in the cast were young whelps just out of acting school and, boy, it showed. What a bunch of hams.