The Library of Roger Wagner - PBA Galleries

Containing the addresses of Miller’s friends and acquaintances, including many famous names
of authors, actors and directors, as well as family members and Paris figures Anaïs Nin, Miller’s
2nd wife June (Corbett), et al. Very good.
(400/600)
116. miller, henry. At the Garden Door - typed carbon of a love song by Miller, written for his wife, Hoki,
with holograph corrections by him. Typed carbon of the lyrics to a love song by Miller, written for his
wife, Hoki, with holograph corrections by him. Accompanied by a cleaner copy (no corrections) and
initialed note.
No place: 1968
Rust marks from paperclip; else about fine.
Page 61
(200/300)
117. miller, henry. Introduction to “Life and Times of Henry Miller” - 4 page typescript with holograph
corrections by Miller. 4-page typescript with holograph corrections by Miller. Together with Introduction
to Bradley’s Book. [2nd draft of preceding?] 4-page typescript with holograph corrections by Miller.
Together with 1-page typed outline of intro. with holograph corrections by Miller.
No place: [1970]
The Life and Times of Henry Miller was published by Playboy Press. The introduction was
written by editor Bradley Smith, so this Miller essay was never actually used. Second draft signed
by Miller at the end About fine.
(200/300)
118. miller, henry. Early Days in Williamsburg - typescript draft with holograph corrections. Includes: First
Draft, 6-page carbon typescript with holograph corrections. * Second Draft, 6-page carbon typescript,
uncorrected. Accompanied by printed version in the New York Times, Oct. 17, 1971.
1971
A beautifully written memoir of Miller’s boyhood in Brooklyn: “...The house I lived in was between
North First and Metropolitan Avenue, then called North Second Street. Opposite us was
Dr. Kinney, the veterinarian, and on the roof top next door to his place Mrs. Omelio kept her
twenty to thirty cats. Diagonally opposite us was Fillmore Place, just one block long, which was
my favorite street and which I can still see vividly if I close my eyes. At the Driggs Avenue end
of this street was a saloon and at the other end a kindergraten. I remember the saloon because
as a child I was often sent to get a pitcher of beer at the side entrance; we called this `rushing
the growler.’...At the Bedford corner was the police station where I was dragged by the arm
one afternoon by the young lady whom my mother had asked to take care of me. I must have
been six or seven years old; the crime I had committed was to use dirty language in her presence.
Florence Martin was her name, and her father, known as Professor Martin, made a good
living exterminating rats in the big hotels in Manhattan. He used to carry two ferrets, which
he used to catch the rats, in his overcoat pocket...Dividing North First Street from South First
Street was Grand Street, a rather exciting street to us kids because [it was] full of stores of all
kinds. The most outstanding of these was Reynolds Bakery, which even at that date, was already
an institution. Mrs. Reynolds was undoubtedly the first woman I looked upon as a queen, or at
least an aristocrat. She stood out above all the women I knew. The back of the bakery gave out
on North First Street, where we often played cat, of shinny as we called it then, and the aroma
of fresh baked bread, crullers and doughnuts, assailed our nostrils day in and day out. On the
other side of Grand Street was Daly’s Fish Market, which also stands out vividly in my memory,
particularly the man Daly, who was very swarthy and hairy and, in my mind at least, seemed always
to be opening oysters....” Miller goes on to remember the vaudeville houses, early cinemas,
school, playmates, candy stores, etc. Of his fantasies of childhood, Miller adds, “But there were
also what I call dream streets, that is, streets which I only imagine I knew, and the memory of
which was so strong, so vivid, that years later when I was fully grown, I would return and try
to find these streets which never existed except in my dreams....” Really a well written, almost
Proustian memoir. Fine.
(300/500)