Books with title The Brass Bottle Illustrated

While Thomas Anstey Guthrie originally wanted to make it as a classic novelist, he managed to succeed as a comic novelist, with many satirical works written under the pseudonym F. Anstey. “The Brass Bottle” is a comic novel which explores the modern world, our expectations, desires and achievements, as well as the unusual story of discovering a brass bottle and releasing a genie that will almost ruin the life of the main protagonist. The novel was also turned into at least 2 movies and it became a successful satire greatly enjoyed in our times. The story follows Horace Ventimore, a young architect who isn’t really flourishing in the Victorian era London. His life could turn for the better, and events hint that things are to change, especially when the young lad finds a brass bottle. He opens the bottle and apparently releases a genie who had been imprisoned in the brass recipient for the past 5,000 years. The wheel of fortune appears to have been turned, and the young architect can only hope for the best, especially when the djinn tries to express his gratitude towards his savior and make his every wish come true. While well-intended, the efforts of the genie in helping Horace actually end up having the opposite effect. These efforts manage to ruin Horace’s life in every way, in most often comic manners. He almost loses his life, his reputation and his loved one. It becomes apparent the misfortunes caused unintentionally by the genie are actually caused by his ignorance and impossibility to understand the Western world. The good thing is that Horace manages to keep his chin up and have an optimistic view at every turn. “The Brass Bottle” will certainly delight readers, as well as offer food for thought as to where things are going in society.

The Brass Bottle CHAPTER I HORACE VENTIMORE RECEIVES A COMMISSION "This day six weeks--just six weeks ago!" Horace Ventimore said, half aloud, to himself, and pulled out his watch. "Half-past twelve--what was I doing at half-past twelve?" As he sat at the window of his office in Great Cloister Street, Westminster, he made his thoughts travel back to a certain glorious morning in August which now seemed so remote and irrecoverable. At this precise time he was waiting on the balcony of the Hôtel de la Plage--the sole hostelry of St. Luc-en-Port, the tiny Normandy watering-place upon which, by some happy inspiration, he had lighted during a solitary cycling tour--waiting until She should appear. He could see the whole scene: the tiny cove, with the violet shadow of the cliff sleeping on the green water; the swell of the waves lazily lapping against the diving-board from which he had plunged half an hour before; he remembered the long swim out to the buoy; the exhilarated anticipation with which he had dressed and climbed the steep path to the hotel terrace. For was he not to pass the whole remainder of that blissful day in Sylvia Futvoye's society? Were they not to cycle together (there were, of course, others of the party--but they did not count), to cycle over to Veulettes, to picnic there under the cliff, and ride back--always together--in the sweet-scented dusk, over the slopes, between the poplars or the cornfields glowing golden against a sky of warm purple? Now he saw himself going round to the gravelled courtyard in front of the hotel with a sudden dread of missing her. There was nothing there but the little low cart, with its canvas tilt which was to convey Professor Futvoye and his wife to the place of rendez

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This book was digitized and reprinted from the collections of the University of California Libraries. It was produced from digital images created through the libraries’ mass digitization efforts. The digital images were cleaned and prepared for printing through automated processes. Despite the cleaning process, occasional flaws may still be present that were part of the original work itself, or introduced during digitization. This book and hundreds of thousands of others can be found online in the HathiTrust Digital Library at www.hathitrust.org.

This book was digitized and reprinted from the collections of the University of California Libraries. It was produced from digital images created through the libraries’ mass digitization efforts. The digital images were cleaned and prepared for printing through automated processes. Despite the cleaning process, occasional flaws may still be present that were part of the original work itself, or introduced during digitization. This book and hundreds of thousands of others can be found online in the HathiTrust Digital Library at www.hathitrust.org.

Excerpt: ...in the course of a very few more hours. Pg 115 CHAPTER XI A FOOL'S PARADISE Ventimore found next morning that his bath and shaving-water had been brought up, from which he inferred, quite correctly, that his landlady must have returned. Secretly he was by no means looking forward to his next interview with her, but she appeared with his bacon and coffee in a spirit so evidently chastened that he saw that he would have no difficulty so far as she was concerned. "I'm sure, Mr. Ventimore, sir," she began, apologetically, "I don't know what you must have thought of me and Rapkin last night, leaving the house like we did!" "It was extremely inconvenient," said Horace, "and not at all what I should have expected from you. But possibly you had some reason for it?" "Why, sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, running her hand nervously along the back of a chair, "the fact is, something come over me, and come over Rapkin, as we couldn't stop here another minute not if it was ever so." "Ah!" said Horace, raising his eyebrows, "restlessness