I find much of the material in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's little book of essays Through the Magic Door either very interesting or rather boring.
When it comes to the material of interest, Conan Doyle's story of his close escape from being accused of plagiarism is fascinating not only in its own right but also because something similar happened to Rudyard Kipling.
It is much the same where another of Conan Doyle's anecdotes is concerned: his account of having to choose between eating and buying books reminds me of other people who had this or a similar dilemma.
His unexpected views on public libraries versus the ownership of books also inspire some commentary.
In Through the Magic Door, Conan Doyle introduces the books in his library to an imaginary visitor. One set is of particular interest:
“You see the line of old, brown volumes at the bottom? Every one of those represents a lunch. They were bought in my student days, when times were not too affluent. Threepence was my modest allowance for my midday sandwich and glass of beer; but, as luck would have it, my way to the classes led past the most fascinating bookshop in the world. Outside the door of it stood a large tub filled with an ever-changing litter of tattered books, with a card above which announced that any volume therein could be purchased for the identical sum which I carried in my pocket.
As I approached it a combat ever raged betwixt the hunger of a youthful body and that of an inquiring and omnivorous mind. Five times out of six the animal won. But when the mental prevailed, then there was an entrancing five minutes' digging among out-of-date almanacs, volumes of Scotch theology, and tables of logarithms, until one found something which made it all worth while.”
Conan Doyle goes on to describe some of his treasured volumes, the literary gold that he prospected for in the bookseller's old threepenny tub and went without lunch to buy.
Incidentally, Conan Doyle's threepenny sandwich and glass of beer made a better lunch than J. B. Priestley's twopenny bag of stale buns!
