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From: Camille Navarro, U.S.
Mr. Bantock, I feel a bit self-conscious writing this in a public post area, but it seems that this is the only way to reach you, and I need to get this out while I still have the words. As I write this (is it really 3:30 in the morning?) I have just finished the Venetian's Wife. As with all the other works of yours that I have read, I opened the book and did not finish until I had reached the last page. Upon completion, I actually clutched the book to my chest. It's very cliche and After-School-Special, but I really did clutch the book to my chest, as if I was afraid that all the beautiful things inside would spill out, or maybe that the book would fly away, or explode. My solar plexus was raging, and I wanted to keep hold of the magic that I had just experienced for as long as possible. The things you create are magic, sir. There are few things in the world that move me in the way that your art and your writing do... and most of these things are not wrought by man. I have experienced this elation with perhaps two other authors and three other artists so far in my lifetime... I like many authors and artists, but there are a select few that speak right to my soul and make me a helpless witness to their greatness. Your books symbolize for me the kind of magic and intrigue that I always wanted to exist in the world. When I was small the one thing I would wish for more vehemently than anything else, lying in bed late at night, was to be touched by magic. I didn't want life to be as stolid and commonplace as it seemed to be; I wanted to be a part of a vast cosmic conspiracy, full of wondrous happenings and mythical beings and fate and love and danger! I would have settled for any glimpse of storybook magic... I remember dreaming of an old leatherbound book full of fanciful tales and bright, extraordinary pictures. I just wanted a sign, anything to tell me my love for the fanciful wasn't just a fond pipe dream. And so, here you are. And while your aim was probably not to abate my fear that magic was possibly extinct, it certainly was a benificial side effect. Thank you for enchanting me with your extraordinary gift. Did you ever imagine while you were sketching out a drawing in art school that you would reach so many people just by doing something you had a talent for? Most sincerely, Camille