This edition was created in three
forms:
Hardback ISBN:0-922890-39-0 | Collector ISBN 0-922890-40-4 |
Limited ISBN 0-922890-41-2
Pictured is the Limited Edition. It
originally sold for $75.00 in 1990. I have never seen the
Collector or Hardback edition.
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Presumably the Collector and Limited
Edition books each had a tipped in page with Peters
signature. The book that I own is one of the 26
lettered books of the Limited Edition, "N".
The tipped in page mentions a set of
100 numbered and signed books also. This may be the
Collector Edition. The tipped-in page is show in
the photo on the left.
The Introduction is interesting, as
Peters talks about why she wrote the second book, and the
character Rameses. I have quoted it in full below. |
INTRODUCTION (to Curse of the Pharaohs - Armchair
Detective Limited Edition)
I never meant to write a sequel to Crocodile on the Sandbank. Why did I? At the risk of sounding crass, I suspect that the rising demand for "series characters" in mystery fiction had something to do with it. I prefer to believe, however, that another kind of pressure was paramount.
It wasn't the response to the first Amelia Emerson book. A few brilliant intuitive readers reacted with cries of encouragement, but it would only be fair to say that Crocodile did not make a
tidal wave sized splash in the mystery world. Somehow, though, I found myself
wondering, what Amelia had been up to since I last encountered her.
I had strong suspicions about one of her activities. Her enthusiastic reaction to "that side" of married life, and Emerson's equally enthusiastic participation, made the result inevitable. They would have a child. That idea in itself was mind boggling. What kind of offspring would these two eccentrics produce?
Both of them were intelligent, sentimental (despite their disclaimers), courageous, passionate, stubborn, and honorable. The inheritance of character traits
like these is questionable at best, but just for the fun of it I started to speculate on what would happen if Amelia's child had a double dose of these characteristics. Imagination reeled; the mountain groaned and gave forth Ramses.
Readers either love Ramses or loathe him. Personally I feel rather sorry for him, but I bitterly resent any suggestion that he is a caricature. Caricatured, yes; exaggerated, certainly. But Victorian society gives other examples of children like him. I was probably thinking of John Stuart Mill, who was introduced to
Greek at the age of three and Latin, Euclid, and algebra at eight. By the time he was ten he had read Plato and Demosthenes. But it was not until long after I had written the scene of young Ramses listening to his father read from his "History of
Egypt," that I came across a letter from William Petrie, the father of William Flinders, describing how the boy had begged to take "my largest chemical work (1000 pages ... ) to read it in bed before he dresses in the morning." Young Willie was not yet ten; some years earlier he had learned to copy hieroglyphs.
Ramses' precocity, then, was perhaps unusual but certainly not impossible. All the other characteristics I have mentioned logically affected his development and his relationship with his parents. For all Emerson's bellowing it was evident from the first that he was a very sentimental man; it seemed quite obvious that he would dote on his firstborn son, especially when the boy showed signs of intellectual ability. Amelia's maternal affection is complicated by several elements which result inevitably from her own character. Passionately attached to her husband, she resents anyone or anything that deflects his attention from her. Suffering from a considerable degree of insecurity about her informal training in Egyptology (she is, of course, as unaware of this as some readers seem to be) she feels threatened by Ramses' increasing knowledge of the field.
Imagining herself to be strictly logical and unemotional (except where Emerson is concerned) it takes her a long time to admit that she has a softer side. And -I admit-Ramses would drive most mothers to distraction. In many ways he is a perfectly normal little boy. As any woman who has raised one of these creatures knows, the process is extremely nerve-wracking. Their bland indifference to physical danger, their contempt for social courtesies, and their love of dirt, loud noises, and unhealthy food make a mother wonder, first whether they' will live to grow up, and second, whether it's worth
the effort to see that they do. (It is.)
It is unfair to label poor Ramses as some sort of alien monster, when most of his irritating qualities are those common to all members of his age and sex.
His precocity is purely intellectual and as limited as was that of Mozart and other child prodigies. His most infuriating quality is that he is more gifted in this one area than are either of his parents, and that he is
not reticent about displaying his superior knowledge. But I've never known a boy of that age who was. When you carry on a conversation with one of them he doesn't converse, he hurls interesting facts at you-"Brontosauruses had two brains, one in their head and one in their tail"-to which the only proper reply is something like, "Really? How interesting." Unfortunately for Ramses, his parents won't play that game. Considering who and what they are, it's a wonder he turned out as well as he did. So there.
Having settled that matter, let me add one final note to the development of the Amelia-Emerson saga which took place in Curse Of The Pharaohs. As I mentioned in the introduction to Crocodile On The Sandbank, I took pleasure in borrowing a number of devices from nineteenth century sensational fiction. In Curse I stole, shamelessly and directly. Readers will of course recognize the
derivation of the name of the unfortunate Lord Baskerville (of the Norfolk, not the Devonshire branch of the family); they may not have realized that the names of almost all the other characters are also derived from Doyle, Collins, and other masters of the genre. I found myself doing this more and more as the saga proceeded; not only is it an interesting game, in which well-versed readers can participate, but it is my humble tribute to those who preceded me and inspired me.
-Elizabeth Peters
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