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The makeup or book idea makes me laugh. When my 16th birthday came along (in the mid-1950s) I had discussed with my mother what I wanted for my birthday. I was just in the early stages of using makeup and mascara wands had just been introduced by Helena Rubenstein as an alternative to the cakes you spat on and then rubbed a tiny brush on. I coveted one of these.
My mother, who had a demanding job, said she didn't have enough time to look for one, so she gave me the money. Clutching it in my hot little hand, I made my way towards the town centre on Saturday morning. But on the way I passed a bookshop. In the window there was a new hardback edition of the complete works of William Wycherley. I was transfixed. It was no contest: I was soon the proud owner of the Wycherley, the first brand new hardback I ever bought. I still have it.
I have to say that studying English literature to A-level standard at school opened up a whole new world to me and got me interested in literature in a way that might never have happened otherwise. I was always an avid reader, but I did read a lot of junk as a child.
I do sympathise with people who find reading books a bit of an uphill struggle. I am a fast and fluent reader -- in English. I can and do read books in French but not as much as I perhaps ought to. The reason is simply that it's more effort. My reading speed goes down and I have to look up occasional words in a dictionary, which spoils the flow.
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