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A Book of Second Thoughts
by George Murray*
We all know that the best part of any mystery is the end; and isn't life the greatest mystery of all? George Murray has trimmed away the unnecessary events-leading-up-to, and presents the world with a deck of fifty-two very satisfying deaths, plus a joker. Oh, it's fun. You should read it. You should keep it where you keep your Edward Gorey books, half-hidden in drawers and bedside tables around the house, so that you can stumble across them in odd moments and leaf through them with a smile of grim delight playing about the corners of your mouth.**
Having read these poems, it is now my fond wish to die before George Murray, so that he can write my obituary; the only drawback is that I won't have the pleasure of reading it.
*George Murray is the spouse of a childhood friend. But if you were looking for objectivity, you wouldn't be here in the first place, would you? You would not.
**In fact, if you are a very rich person, you should construct a long, high-ceilinged room and decorate it with fifty-two stained glass windows, plus one in the ceiling, each one representing the martyrdom, not of a saint, but of a contortionist, a medium, an amnesiac. You should have these poems engraved on plaques underneath, and every Tuesday of the year, plus once on Christmas, you should go and sit under one of the windows, with a smile of grim delight playing about the corners of your mouth. Then, when you die, you can open the whole thing to a grateful public as your parting gift to the world. This is only a suggestion. But you are a very rich person, and what else are you going to do with all that money?