Jeffrey Ford - The Girl in the Glass

Unfortunately, the Eugenics Record Office is not a darkly fanciful invention but a true historical institution. Granted, my character Dr. Agarias, as well as his rogue experimental research supported by shady powerbrokers, is a fictional construct, but for coherent historical information about the ERO and its racist implications there are two excellent books for the interested reader-War Against the Weak: Eugenics and America's Campaign to Create a Master Race by Edwin Black and The Unfit: A History of a Bad Idea by Elof Axel Carlson. On the Web one can also find Image Archive on the American Eugenics Movement at http://www.eugenicsarchive.org/eugenics/ and "Carrie Buck's Daughter: A Popular, Quasi-Scientific Idea Can Be a Powerful Tool for Injustice" by Stephen J. Gould at

http://www.findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1134/is_6_111/ai_87854861/print Jeffrey Ford The Girl in the Glass For Jack, with all my love and respect. It's your move. A MEDIUM TO TRUTH Some days ago I sat by the window in my room, counting the number of sedative pills I've palmed over the course of the last three months. Even though my fingers tremble, I've discovered that the erratic action can be a boon to tricks involving sleight of hand. In the midst of my tabulation, I happened to look outside at the beautiful summer day. A breeze was blowing through the trees that bordered the small courtyard, and their silver-backed leaves flashed in the sunlight. It was then that I noticed a bright yellow butterfly flutter past and come to rest on the head of the weathered concrete Virgin that sits amid the colorful zinnias that nurse Carmen had planted in the spring. The orange dot on its lower wings told me it was an alfalfa, Colias eurytheme . The sight of this beautiful creature immediately reminded me of my benefactor and surrogate father, Thomas Schell, and I was swept back to my youth, far away in another country. I sat that day for hours, contemplating a series of events that took place sixty-seven years ago, in 1932, when I was seventeen. Decades have since died and been laid to rest, not to mention loved ones and personal dreams, but still that distant time materializes before me like a restless spirit at a sйance, insisting its story be told. Of course, now with pen in hand, I have no choice but to be a medium to its truths. All I ask is that you believe. .

I believe the correlation that my character The Worm makes between Henry Ford's invention of the assembly line from his knowledge of slaughterhouses and Hitler's assembly line of genocide can be traced back to the controversial but interesting book by Charles Patterson, Eternal Treblinka.

On a lighter note, for a wonderful Web site teeming with information about the history of Coney Island and its denizens, the reader should investigate Greetings from Coney Island authored by Jeff Stanton at http://naid.sspsr.ucla.edu/coneyisland/index.html. For information pertaining to butterflies in Schell's bugatorium, I consulted a number of basic field guides, and also a charming book An Obsession with Butterflies by Sharman Apt Russell.

In addition to the textual references listed above, I had great help on this book by way of early readers-Rick Bowes, Michael Gallagher, and Bill Watkins. For a firsthand view of Long Island in the 1930s, I repeatedly tapped my old man, James E. Ford, who grew up in Amityville and lived his whole life on the island. And for the Spanish spoken by Isabel in the course of the story, a way of denoting the uniqueness of the culture represented by her and Diego without too badly confusing readers of English, I solicited help from my college Spanish teacher and longtime friend, Patricia Manley, and also my Spanish-language guru, Gabe Mesa.

I also owe a great debt of gratitude for the support and encouragement of my editor, Jennifer Brehl, and her indispensable editorial advice, which helped to make this book the best it could be. And last but by no means least, a thank-you to Howard Morhaim, my agent, for his steadfast and valuable guidance.