The Paradise Lost Mystery

Some years ago, I bought a folio copy of Paradise Lost. I purchased it online, and it travelled the length of the country to get to me. I suspect the person I bought it from had not opened it often.

It is not my first Paradise Lost, but it may be my oldest. Given its size, it’s not one I go to when I want to read at length.

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In fact, I mostly just flick through it to look at the pictures. I, like the person I bought it from, do not open it often. So it was a while before I found the things.

What the fuck.
What the fuck.

It’s a lock of someone’s hair. A substantial lock of hair, wrapped with a strip of newspaper, and tied with a pink ribbon. (I did, with some care, un-twine the newspaper to try to determine whether it was relevant. It was not.) Whose hair is it? A lover’s? Why was it given? Were they parted? Why was it squirrelled away in a giant copy of Paradise Lost?

I journeyed on, and found more.

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A small photograph of a grumpy female, age indeterminate. Her hair appears darker than the ribbon-wrapped lock, so I’ve decided they’re different people, but who would now, really? Further on I found a rates invoice, dated 1919. Half a used stamp.

A clew!
A clew!

Ah-hah! A calling card! But does it belong to the book owner, or a visitor? After careful reading of the invoice (it was written in pencil, making things difficult) I determined that James W. Brown was the book’s original owner. Or perhaps not original… 1919 is a couple of decades older than the book itself, I think. But who knows how long he had it?

The final discovery was a pressed plant. I am not a botanist so I cannot tell you what it is.

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Was this pressed plant intended to be retrieved from the book? Why press it? Is it a token of a pleasant day? A gift from the owner of the hair?

Did Mr. Brown use all these items as bookmarks, or was this a secret depository of important tokens? (Well, maybe not the invoice.) The hair is what really beguiles me. I have some – let’s be honest here – dead person’s hair in my book. And I can’t bring myself to throw it away. These things belong this this folio. They’ve been with it for nearly 90 years. And for all I know, I’m the first person to find them.

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