I do not know how it is I came to have a copy of the American Face Brick Association’s 1922 tome The Story Of Brick: The Permanence, Beauty, and Economy of the Face Brick House. The title alone, though, is so much the parody of the sort of thing that I would read that I had to go back and check whether I had made a joke about my getting a book like this. Of course I have. I have done this more than once. Within the last ten weeks.
I can only dimly imagine how ridiculous actually reading this is going to be. It starts well, though:
“If we possessed the story-telling magic of Sir Walter or of Dumas, the elder, we could write a best seller on the subject of brick, which most people think of as very commonplace. ”
I recognize when an “if” is pulling a load.
That is an expectation-managing opening paragraph if ever I read one.
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Oh yes, it looks like one. I can now say, though, that the book is one of the most delightful things I’ve read in months, and that is an era during which I read a bunch of Harvey Comics that a friend sent me. It’s a book of joy.
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I hope the brick book has a forward by Ignatz Mouse and a review blurb by Off. Pupp
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Although it’s the right era to, no! There’s no forwards and no review blurbs on the archive.org copy. It’s a pity, it is.
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