On the Rebound
There is no end to the insults of fumbled shopping. Like any other dream of menacing stairwells or unmarked doors, the act of losing out on a desired object leaves the would-be acquirer in a fog of unfinished narrative.
It’s impossible to make up for what was missed by finding a mirror image of it since the idea of a mirror image is too hopeful, too exact. But--if the lost object turns out to have a vaguely-resembling sister or descendant, could getting the echo lessen the blow? Can almost-as-good make up for what was lost?
No.
If you lose out, as I did, on a folio of terrific fashion sketches from the ‘50s, does it make sense to look for folios sort of like it in order to buy what will never be more than a shadow? In the case of the fashion sketches, I bought others that close up looked more like the ham-handed products of a party sketch artist than like anything from the pages of Vogue. And yet--the impulse persists to shut the gate, even after your favorite horse has been lassoed by a swindler.
It’s impossible to make up for what was missed by finding a mirror image of it since the idea of a mirror image is too hopeful, too exact. But--if the lost object turns out to have a vaguely-resembling sister or descendant, could getting the echo lessen the blow? Can almost-as-good make up for what was lost?
No.
If you lose out, as I did, on a folio of terrific fashion sketches from the ‘50s, does it make sense to look for folios sort of like it in order to buy what will never be more than a shadow? In the case of the fashion sketches, I bought others that close up looked more like the ham-handed products of a party sketch artist than like anything from the pages of Vogue. And yet--the impulse persists to shut the gate, even after your favorite horse has been lassoed by a swindler.
posted by E.H. at 1:56 AM
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