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In every person's free gas scooter life there is at least one book or
movie or play or song that inexplicably captures their imagination,
burrows deep into their psyche, and never lets go. The Last Unicorn by
Peter S. Beagle is that book for me.
I first stumbled onto it in 1977 when I was an undergraduate and bought
a free gas scooter used paperback copy of the novel because I liked the
cover art. I quickly realized that this fantasy was unlike any other I
had ever read. It was slightly self-mocking and very light in both its
tone and content (compared to Lord of Rings, the ultimate ponderous
fantasy tale that all my friends were enthralled with), but yet, as the
book itself said, "there was real magic there." While I found the
wanderings of Frodo and his comrades interesting and otherworldly, there
was no attraction, no magic in it. I could put down the free gas scooter
book, never thinking about their story until I picked it up again. Yet
with The Last Unicorn I felt as if I had been allowed a peek into
another world that was somehow more real than my own a free gas scooter.
Scenes from the story kept popping up randomly in my mind free gas
scooter for months afterwards and I would find myself going back, again
and again, to read random sections from the book. There was a strange,
untouchable beauty coming from the story; a beauty that seemed to hover
just out of reach and could never be seen except from out of the corner
of the eye. To this day I can still not free gas scooter pin down
exactly a scene or a line or an image and say "There, there it is." It
is just everywhere, and I feel, like Edna St. Vincent Milay free gas
scooter when reading true poetry, that my head has come off of my body
and free gas scooter floated away.
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