‘He’s a mouthy, brazen individual. Maybe he’s a philosopher.’
(Zeus commenting on Timon the Misanthrope’s rantings, in the dialogue of that name, page 112)
Introduction
Lucian of Samosata was the ancient world’s king of sarcastic humour. He lived from about 125 to about 200 AD, under the Roman Emperors: Antoninus Pius; Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus; Commodus; and perhaps Pertinax (193 AD). He was born at Samosata on the River Euphrates in the Roman province of Syria. Although his native language was probably Syriac, all of his extant works are written entirely in ancient Greek. Although his works are crammed with literary allusions, there is not a single mention of any Latin author.
Lucian was a rhetorician and pamphleteer best known for his tongue-in-cheek style, which he used to ridicule rulers, superstitions, religious practices and belief in the paranormal. He tells us that up to the age of 40 he practiced rhetoric, which meant all or any of the following: (1) speaking in court on behalf of a client; (2) writing speeches for a client to deliver; (3) teaching pupils; (4) giving public displays of his skill.
But after the age of 40 he tells us that he switched to writing dialogues. Dialogue, since the times of Plato (427 to 348 BC), had been associated with serious philosophy. Lucian wrote one or two dialogues in the serious Platonic mode but then switched to a new mode, a literary innovation which he’s most associated with and made him famous – comic dialogue. His piece ‘A Literary Prometheus’ explicitly states that what Lucian himself regarded as his claim to the title of an original writer was the fusing of Comedy and Dialogue. He wrote about 35 of these dialogues.
Most of his masterpieces are in this form. The comic dialogues can be sub-divided into three further groups according to whether they took their inspiration from:
- the Old Comedy (or Comedy of fantastic imagination) like Aristophanes
- the New Comedy (or Comedy of ordinary life) like Menander
- the satires of Menippus
Sidwell explains that a text like ‘The journey down to Hades’ combines a) the dialogue form of Plato with b) the Attic language and fondness for fantasy of Old Comedy with c) the Cynic alienation of Menippus. Menippus (Sidwell’s glossary tells us) lived in the first half of the 3rd century BC. Later Lucian was associated with two literary innovations: ‘Menippean’ satire refers to the mixture of prose and verse; 2) the serio-comic i.e. the deployment of humour for moralising purposes.
Lucian wrote a vast amount – some 88 works have been attributed to him. These include: introductions to philosophers; panegyrics on good rulers or philosophers; various types of autobiography; biographies of writers and philosophers; art criticism; moral advice; satires on superstition, false religion and bad literature, and collections of mini dialogues.
This 527-page Penguin Classic edition, translated and introduced by Keith Sidwell, is big solid and heavy but it is just a selection. It only contains just 18 of the possible 70 to 80 works attributed to Lucian. In fact, on closer examination, it contains only a little over 300 pages of Lucian. The rest is given over to Introduction, Translator’s note, Note on the texts, three maps, a List of works, 90 pages of Notes, a 42-page Glossary of classical names, 4 pages of academic references and a 33-page index of names and places.
Sidwell adds clarity or clutter (depending on opinion) by not just translating the works but arranging them in groups which he gives his own titles and each of which features a little introduction of their own. Since these introductions have their own notes that’s two sets of notes to be alert to.
In defence of originality
1. The Prometheus of the literary world
A throwaway remark by a friend or critic leads Lucian to a consideration of the ways he is a literary pioneer.
2. Two charges of literary assault (n/r)
Favourite philosophers
1. Demonax the philosopher
In praise of this philosopher who may or may not have existed.
2. The philosopher Nigrinus (n/r)
Damning diatribes
1. Slander
Interesting essay on the nature of ‘slander’. Lucian sees it from a very different perspective, a very legalistic one. He criticises slander because, in a court of law, a trial isn’t finished until both sides (prosecution and defence) have presented their case, whereas the chief thing he has against slander is that only one side is presented: the slanderer makes an accusation against the slandered person and the hearer of the slander never gets to hear the other side.
2. A few words about mourning
A cynical satirical view at the practices surrounding mourning but even more so the absurd beliefs the ancients had about it, the whole mythography around washing the body and placing a coin in its mouth so it can cross the Styx etc.
Old comic dialogues
1. The journey down to Hades, or The Tyrant
A lively short drama with speaking parts for 8 or 9 characters, including Clotho the Fate, Charon the ferryman and Hermes the shepherd of dead souls, whose aim is contrast the modest lifestyle and expectations of Micyllus and the rich man Megapenthes.
2. Timon the misanthrope
A philosophical dialogue featuring Timon, the legendary millionaire Athenian who generously gave gifts to his many hangers-on until at a stroke he lost everything and became a poor peasant, and other characters including Zeus, Hermes and the allegorical figure, Wealth himself.
As far as I understand, these are texts deriving from Greek Old Comedy because Old Comedy was imbued with The Fantastic, hence gods and allegorical figures.
3. The Ship, or prayers (n/r)
New comic dialogues
1. Chattering courtesans
There are 15 very short dialogues (generally a page and a half) in this set. These derive from Athenian New Comedy in the sense that the so-called new comedy (from about 320 to 250 BC) eschewed gods and legends, instead focusing on ordinary men and women, cast in stereotypical roles (repressive father, attractive young lovers, clever slave) who fret about the everyday realistic concerns of love, marriage, and money. Anyway, these dialogues are microplays, often featuring only 2, at most 4 characters, who exchange dialogue for barely two pages. The dialogues are named after the characters:
1. Glycerion and Thais
Glycerion is complaining to her friend Thais that her man till recently, ‘the Acarnanian’, the one who used to go about with Abrotonon, has dumped her and taken up with ‘that absolute witch Gorgona’. Glycerion complains that Gorgona’s mother actually is a witch, accusing her of all the usual witchy tricks. But Thais tells her to relax, there are plenty more fish in the sea.
2. Myrtion, Pamphilus and Doris
Angry courtesan Myrtion accuses her former lover Pamphilus of being set to marry the daughter of the shipping magnate Philon, abandoning her (Myrtion) eight months pregnant. Pamphilus replies that this is rubbish, claiming he doesn’t know who Philon’s daughter is, anyway his father had a lawsuit against Philon a little while ago, in any case he’s really attached to Demeas’ daughter.
All this she has learned from her servant Doris who heard it from Lesbia who told her to check out all the garlanding and pipe girls and whatnot assembling in the alleyway behind Pamphilus’s gouse for a wedding.
Pamphilus laughs and says the report of celebrations and decorations is true but they’re for his neighbour’s wedding, not his. Myrtion is hugely relieved and Pamphilus promises that of course he would never abandon his pregnant mistress.
3. Mother and Philinna
Mother tells Philinna off for ignoring her boyfriend Diphilus and snogging his friend Lamprias, but Philinna explains she only did so to get back at Diphilus who had been kissing and joking with Lamprias’s ‘courtesan’ Thais before Lamprias arrived.
4. Melitta and Bacchis
Melitta has had a falling out with her boyfriend Charinus who, for his part, accuses her of having an affair with Hermotimus the shipbuilder, based on some scurrilous graffiti. Bacchis usefully provides the name of a Syrian witch who can do magic to win him back.
5. Clonarion and Leaena
Clonarion asks her friend if it’s true she’s having a lesbian affair with a woman from Lesbos, Megilla. If so, what do lesbians do? Leaena confirms it’s true and says it all happened one night when she’d been entertaining a party with the lyre and Megilla asked her to stay the night, in the same bed, then started to seduce her. Once she’s gotten aroused she took off her wig to reveal herself clean shaven like a male athlete and revealed that she was born with a man’s temperament and desires. When Leaena timidly asks whether she has a man’s thing Megilla says she doesn’t need one and starts to get passionate. When Clonarion asks for more details Leaena is too embarrassed to explain and the little dialogue stops there, though Sidwell points out in the notes that the implication is that Megilla uses a strap-on dildo (olisbos in Greek).
6. Crobyle and Corinna
Her mother, Crobyle, congratulates Corinna on losing her virginity the night before and so earning a mina (enough, the text tells us) to live on for a year. What comes over is the way the two women were forced into it by the complete lack of any other way of earning a living once Crobyle’s husband died. And Crobyle’s description of how to be a successful courtesan which has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with accompanying the man’s who’s paid for her to dinners or parties, not eating or drinking too much, not speaking too much, having only eyes for the client: making him feel special.
In exchange he’ll pay her handsomely and her mother will be proud and people will point to them wearing fine clothes etc. In other words, on the evidence of this text, it was a socially acceptable and even respectable way for a mother and marriageable daughter to make a living. I’m just imagining all those mothers in E.M. Forster novels having heart attacks.
7. Mother and Musarion
As a deliberate contrast, the mother in this one berates her daughter for being useless because she has fallen for a good-looking man, Chaereas, who’s full of promises and swears he’ll give her lots of lovely things when his father dies and yet, to date, has not only given them nothing, but has actually taken gifts from them and pawned them – a definite failure at ‘the courtesan business’ (p.169). She needs to hurry up and find a profitable lover: ‘Do you think you’re always going to be eighteen?’ (p.170)
8. Ampelis and Chrysis
Ampelis, with 20 years in the courtesan trade, advises young Chrysis that the key way to keeping a man, and making him pay you handsomely, is to excite his jealousy, make him so jealous that he beats you. Being beaten is always a good sign (!)
9. Dorcas, Pannychis, Philostratus and Polemon
Broad comedy as the woman Pannychis is told by her servant, Dorcas, that her long-absent boyfriend, the blowhard soldier Polemon is back from the wars and coming to see his true love. Only problem is his true love, Pannychis, has let herself be bought by the wealthy merchant, Philostratus, with one talent (the Greek coin). Both now approach the house at the same time causing Pannychis to wish the ground would open up and swallow her. But when the two men meet outside her house they have a standoff with Polemon the soldier threatening to martial all his troops while the phlegmatic merchant by saying he’s probably never even killed a cockerel and was in charge of guarding a fence. And with th is comic standoff it ends.
10. Chelidonion and Drosis
Drosis complains to wiser, older Chelidonion that her lover, Cleinias, doesn’t come round any more. It’s because he’s taken up with the philosopher Aristaenetus, who they both roundly condemn as a fraud. Drosis then gives a letter Cleinias has written her (in secret) saying his Dad got wind of their relationship and apprenticed him to Aristaenetus, who has promised the usual philosophical benefits of virtue and peace of mind. They discuss the rumour that Aristaenetus only professes the company of young men because he’s gay, and Chelodonion then promises to write to some graffiti on the wall ‘in the Ceramicus’ to that effect.
11. Tryphaena and Charmides
A young man, Charmides, is in bed with the courtesan he’s just bought for five drachmas, Tryphaena, but to her bafflement all he’s done is cry all evening and once they were in bed, laid a cloak between them as if scared of touching her? What the devil is wrong? So Charmides explains that he’s hopelessly in love with Philemation. At which Tryphaena tells him that Philemation is definitely not the woman he thinks she is, being the wrong end of her 40s, wearing a wig to hide her grey hair, and as ‘spotty as a leopard’.
12. Ioessa, Pythis and Lysias
Ioessa delivers a 2-page rebuke to her lover Lysias for a whole litany of ways he’s ignored her and flirted with every other woman in sight. Her friend Pythias says it’s her own fault for loving him unconditionally and letting him realise it. So he took her for granted. At that point Lysias returns and says it’s not fault, he’s spurned Ioessa because five nights earlier, he snuck out of his house (where his father had grounded him) and crept into Ioessa’s, into her bedroom, and discovered her in bed with another man (both fast asleep), knowing it was a man from his bald head. Both the girls fall about laughing and explain that it was Pythias in bed with Ioessa: she had had a disease and her hair had fallen out. She only looks haired during the day because she wears a wig. They all laugh and share a drink to make peace.
13. Leontichus, Chenidas and Hymnis
Leontichus is a braggart who delivers a great long account of his gory fights and killings in battle, egged on by his sidekick Chenidas. Unfortunately this has a disastrous effect on the girl he’s trying to chat up, Hymnis, who says he’s a revolting murderer and walks off.
14. Dorion and Myrtale
Dorion (man) complains that Myrtale (woman) has locked him out of her house and is sleeping with a Bithynian merchant. She’s cross and insists he lists all the gifts he’s claimed he’s given her. What emerges is that he’s a poor sailor and (his gifts are loaves, dried figs, sandals) whereas her new lover has given her a tunic, earrings and a carpet. Angry, Dorion turns to abuse of the Bithynian merchant, claiming he’s 50, bald and got skin like a prawn. Myrtale sarcastically points out how lucky his next lover is going to be, treated to onions from Cyprus, cheese from Gythium and ‘rubbish like that’ (p.187).
15. Cochlis and Parthenis
Cochlis asks Parthenis why she’s crying. Parthenis says it’s because she was hired to play the pipes at a party at Crocale’s house. She was hired by Crocale’s new lover, Gorgus. Unfortunately, in the middle of the party Crocale’s old lover, the Aetolian soldier Deinomachus, burst in with a bunch of soldier friends, badly beat up Gorgus, slapped Cochlis and broke her pipes.
Fascinating to learn that Crocale had demanded two talents (the Greek coin) from Deinomachus to commit to being his exclusive lover and, when he couldn’t pay, slammed the door in his face and switched her allegiance to Gorgus, a rich farmer and a nice man.
Cochlis (clearly a fellow courtesan) moralises that this is what you get if you get involved with soldiers, violence and trouble. What’s more they always boast about being in command of a thousand troops etc but if you ask for presents make excuses about having to wait for payday etc. No, give her someone more her equal in social rank, a fisherman or sailor or farmer, who offers less boasting and flattery and simply brings nice presents.
Thoughts
1. Surprisingly modern, aren’t they, in subject matter and mentality.
2. The obvious question is whether the 15 little scenes were conceived systematically i.e. whether they were intended to build up into a synoptic exploration or portrait of the subject, or a random fragments.
3. This is one of four sets of mini dialogues by Lucian which have come down to us: the others are Dialogues of the Gods, Dialogues of the Sea Gods and Dialogues of the Dead.
Scythians
1. The Scythian or the Honorary Consul (n/r)
2. Toxaris, or Friendship (n/r)
The longest piece in the book on the hackneyed subject of friendship, so dear to humanists, which was to be revived and done to death at the Renaissance and after (Montaigne, Bacon etc etc).
The art of eulogy
Sidwell has chosen these to demonstrate different types of:
- eulogy (from eulogia, Classical Greek, eu for ‘well’, logia for ‘words’ – taken together to mean ‘praise’) is a speech or writing in praise of a person
- encomium –a Latin word deriving from the Ancient Greek enkomion meaning ‘the praise of a person or thing’
1. An encomium of fatherland
Unlike Lucian in that it is direct, straight, unironic piece of standard praise for the patria to show us what a normal sensible encomium sounds like.
2. Praising a fly
Example of a ‘paradoxical encomium’ i.e. praising something small or ignoble which doesn’t merit such literary labour. This kind of ironic encomium became a literary genre in its own right, and lasts down to our day. There’s nothing funny at all in the 4-page text, it is a gathering together of what was known about the fly in his day and then a series of quotes from Homer and the classics showing how the fly has featured in great poetry. No laughs at all. The humour comes from the basic idea or conceit, of treating such a traditionally paltry creature to such an elaborate gathering of information and heavyweight literary quotes.
3. Images (n/r)
4. In defence of images (n/r)
5. About the parasite: proof that parasitic is an art
A full-blown Socratic dialogue which uses the Socratic technique ironically to prove a paradoxical, socially unacceptable point, namely that being a parasite is an art form, in fact the highest possible art a person can aspire to. Again, this is surprisingly unfunny. Instead it really does use the techniques of Socratic dialogue, which are earnest and serious, but for an absurd end.
The gist of the argument is that a parasite, by battening onto a rich man, by singing for his supper, by being amusing and entertaining, knows where his next meal is coming from and so lives in the peace of mind and certainty which the philosophers claim to be the True Aim of Philosophy – unlike many of the famous philosophers who ended up being put on trial, burned to ashes, exiled or other unfortunate ends.
I can see that this is more crafted and clever than, say, the Dialogues of the Courtesans, but it is a cleverness devoted to a futile end. The Platonic dialogues are hard enough to read because the modern reader knows that their premise, or the conclusion they’re funneling the reader towards – that there exists a world of archetypes overseen by a Divine Creator of which this world and everything in it are mere copies – is pointlessly irrelevant to any modern thinking about the world and humanity’s place in it. Producing a brilliant pastiche of a clever Platonic dialogue devoted to a deliberately silly end requires a special kind of academic patience to plough through and I registered the clever-cleverness but didn’t really enjoy it.
Instead I found the courtesan dialogues the best things in the book because they are so short and quick and modern in their effect. You are dropped into the middle of an argument or conversation about someone’s love life, they tell you just enough about the situation to make you smile or nod in agreement or be amazed at the social conventions of ancient Greece, and then they end. Incredibly focused, to-the-point, bite-sized insights into another world.
The art of the lie
1. True Histories
This might be Lucian’s most famous work because, unlike most of the other pieces, which are stuck in the ghetto of classical studies, this 38-page text has crossed over into the modern genre of science fiction. Many scholars and fans claim it as ‘the first science fiction story’ which obviously gives it an interest and notoriety which none of his other works can match.
Regardless of what posterity has made if it, Lucian clearly states his intention which is to mount a comprehensive attack on fictions which masquerade as truth. He has in mind the fantastical elements found in the works of Homer (the primal fantasist), Herodotus and even Plato (with things like his famous myth of the cave). His aim is to take down fantasy fiction by producing his own fantastically nonsensical fiction, a kind of reduction ad absurdum.
He explicitly introduces it as made-up in every aspect, but then goes on to relate with the plausibility of a real account. It is a very post-modern, self-deconstructing artefact. In his brief introduction Sidwell says its Greek title might more accurately be translated as ‘True Fictions’.
True Histories plot
The storyline can be briskly summarised as: Lucian and 50 companions set sail on an adventure and get to the Pillars of Hercules where they encounter a land of vine-women, kiss them and become instantly drunk, have sex with them and you are turned into a vine.
Sailing on their ship is caught in a mighty storm and whirled into the air, into the sky, and then into space. they land on the moon which they discover is ruled by Endymion and populated by strange men. They discover the Selenites are at war with the men who inhabit the sun about who is going to set up a colony on the morning star. There is an extended description of a huge battle featuring units of weird and wonderful made-up animals and fantastical beings. After much fighting a peace treaty is signed, Endymion entertains them more and they find out more about weird lunar life before being allowed to return through the heavens back to earth, landing in the sea.
Soon afterwards they are swallowed by a giant whale only to discover people living inside it who have erected temples and get on with an ordinary life though their diet is dominated by fish. Here they witness another epic battle fought between peoples with names like the Turbotfeet, the Crabbies and the Triton-pans. Eight months later, through the open mouth of the whale they witness another battle, a sea battle between giants with flaming hair who steer moving islands.
After spending a year in the whale they want to escape and light a fire on one of the islands which takes 12 days to kill the whale. They’ve taken the precaution of propping its mouth open and now lower the ship into the sea and sail away from the vast corpse. After a few days there’s a drop in temperature and the sea freezes over. At first they create a hole in the ice to hole up and eat frozen fish. Then they haul the ship onto the ice sheet and go skimming across it.
The temperature rises and the ice disappears. Next they come to a sea of milk and land on an island which turns out to be an enormous round of cheese, so they say there living off milk and cheese for five days, then sail on. They see men skimming over the surface of the sea because their feet are made of cork.
Soon after they reach the famous Isle of the Blessed which they can smell before they see it. Upon landing they are lightly bound with garlands of flowers and taken before the legendary judge Rhadamanthys who listens to the story of their wanderings and decides they can stay, triggering a description of the famous Elysian Fields (women are held in common and the boys ‘never say no’)
Then onto a ‘catalogue’ of the famous heroes there. This is a standard spacefiller and timewasting tactic, interesting in a nerdy way but not as much fun as the pure fantasy (an island made of cheese!). There’s a battle with the impious who try to break in but all the usual Greek heroes lead an army which wins.
After they’ve been there five months there’s some drama when a man named Cinyras steals Helen and elopes with her, prompting Menelaus to wake all the Greeks and Rhadamanthys to authorise a ship to track down the miscreants, which it does, capturing them at the edge of the sea of milk.
Soon after they are kicked out of the Isle of the Blessed and are on their wanderings once more. They come to an island like Hell, with rivers of fire and the damned being tormented. Lucian jokes that the worst punishments are reserved for those who tell lies or write down things which aren’t true.
Next they sail on to the Isle of Sleep which has a city and gates and forest etc all given allegorical attributes reminiscent of many a medieval allegory. They stay there 30 days and nights asleep and dreaming.
Then they sail on to the island of Ogygia ruled by Circe who kept Odysseus so long. In fact, on the Isle of the Blest Odysseus gave Lucian a letter to give to Circe which says he regretted ever leaving her and wishes to return. She feasts them and they rest.
Next day they sail on till they bump into the Pumpkin Pirates who attack them until they themselves are assaulted by the Nut Sailors which turns into a big naval battle. They are attacked by men riding dolphins who they fight off. They go aground on an island made of tree trunks which turns out to be the nest of a giant halcyon (sea bird) whose eggs are just hatching.
They come to a kind of sea forest, hoist the ship up to and ‘sail’ across the canopies of leaves. Then they come to a chasm in the sea where the water just stops on both sides giving rise to a sheer cliff of water going down thousands of yards. There’s a water ‘bridge’ which they row across to the other side.
They come to the island of Oxheads, people like the Minotaur who attack them, but they counter-attack and capture several as hostages which they release back to their people on payment of food and water.
They sail on coming close to land but seeing giant who are their own ships, who lie on their backs with big erections to which they tie sails. Others sitting on corks tied to dolphins which pull them through the waves.
They arrive at an island inhabited by beautiful young women with gowns down to their feet who kindly invite them to their homes. But Lucan, knowing his Odyssey, is sceptical and discovers the one hosting him has in fact the legs of a donkey. When he ties her up and questions her she reveals that the plan to kill and eat his men. He leaps onto the roof of the house and yells out to warn his men who come running. When they try to question his ‘asswoman’ again she turns to water.
Finally they arrive at ‘the land which lies opposite the one you inhabit’ which has been foretold several times on their adventure. Here a storm blows up and wrecks their ship leaving them stranded. At this point the narrator promises he will tell all the adventures which befell them on this strange continent in more books to come. These, of course, were never written and so the book ends with what commentator calls ‘the biggest lie of all.’
Thoughts
The most interesting thing about this deliberately fantastical narrative is that, despite the preface explicitly stating it’s all lies, and his periodic reminders in the text itself, you find yourself quite gripped by it, following the absurd details and wondering what’s going to happen next. Obviously not on the Rational Level which Lucian wants us all to live on but on the much more important imaginative level. It turns out that you can tell everyone that your fiction is a preposterous pack of made-up lies but they’ll still enjoy it. We are addicted to stories, we relate to stories far more than to rational discourse. Makes you wonder why we even bother with ‘rational discourse’.
To put it another way, the stories we like and the things we remember have nothing to do with The Truth, in fact you can almost guarantee they will be the opposite. (See my review of Irrationality: The Enemy Within by Stuart Sutherland.)
Thoughts
I think Lucian is one of those classic authors who it’s more interesting to read about than to actually read. I enjoyed reading Sidwell’s introduction and enjoyed dipping into the extensive glossary to remind myself who people like Clotho or Anaxagoras are. I enjoyed reading the gracious olde worlde introduction to the Fowler brothers edition (see link below). I enjoyed rereading explanations of Old Comedy, New Comedy, Platonic dialogue etc, all that felt empowering. I enjoyed very much the Dialogues of the Courtesans and the True Histories adventure. But unfortunately found almost all the other works I read or started and gave up to be disappointing. It’s not the fault of Sidwell’s translation, – he makes a big effort to be popular, accessible and slangy, to catch the immediacy of the dialogues and the gripping pace of True Histories.
I think it’s the subject matter of the more arcane and moralising pieces: the ‘morals’ they are pointing are just too obvious. ‘Timon’ shows that a rich man often attracts not real friends but hangers-on and parasites. The ‘Journey to Hades’ shows that rich men are often greedy and self-centred while the honest poor have a quiet dignity. The ‘Prise of Parasitism’ makes obvious hits at the selfishness of the rich and the unfairness of contemporary society. These are not ‘insights’ or morals which the effort of reading the sometimes convoluted texts really justify.
Credit
‘Chattering Courtesans and Other Sardonic Sketches’ by Lucian, translated with an introduction and notes by Keith Sidwell, was published by Penguin Classics in 2004.
Related links
- Dialogue of the Courtesans online
- The Works of Lucian of Samosata: Volume 1 translated by Henry Watson Fowler and Francis George Watson volume 1 (1904)
- The Works of Lucian of Samosata: Volume 2
- The Works of Lucian of Samosata: Volume 3
Books & Boots 