One of my tasks at work is handling the damaged books (we get a lot), directing them to the librarians whose task it is to decide whether we replace, repair or discard a given item.
This week, I found a gem: Miss Kilmansegg and her precious leg: a golden legend. Published circa 1870 the story tells the tale of a young woman whose greed is so great that when she loses her leg in an accident she insists that neither wood nor cork will do for the artificial replacement — she wants only gold. With the gold leg in place, she catches the fancy of a Count who courts her for marriage. Unfortunately, he’s also greedy.
Now, I’m going to go ahead and spoil the ending of this book because I am pretty sure there are few of you who would read this kind of long-form poem (in rather forced rhymed verse — I mean they named the title character Kilmansegg to rhyme with leg for Pete’s sake!) but the ending is so very worthwhile.
‘Twas the Golden Leg! — she knew its gleam!
And up she started, and tried to scream, —
But — hush! — ’twas a stir at her pillow she felt-
But ev’n in the moment she started —
Down came the limb with a frightful smash,
And, lost in the universal flash
That her eyeballs made at so mortal a crash,
The Spark, call’d Vital, departed!
Now how could I flip through this book and not be amused by such splendidly old school violence wrapped in Victorian lace?
Add to that a beautiful cover and gilt edged pages plus engraved illustrations of devils on the frontispiece, how could I not pick it up and hold it and … well… you know.
Book lust.
Wow! Her head bashed in with her own gold leg! By her husband no less! Maybe this is representative of the “good old days” that so many people seem to want to return to…
Old books are cool.