brevity is the soul of wit,
tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes . . .

If there is a short way to say something, Tom chooses the longest way. If the limbs and outward flourishes could be done without, Tom creates a forest of them. But there is a reason for all this, just as there is a difference between Polonius and Shakespeare, and what at first might seem a little daunting to a contemporary reader ends up as brilliant and inevitable.

Poor Richard’s Lament is narrated primarily from the point of view of Benjamin Franklin, and therefore includes all the “colorations” of Franklin’s 18th-century America. Switching your modern sensibilities to this new (or, rather, old) language, and cultural and linguistic milieu is like switching from one vintage of wine to another. It requires open-mindedness, but the effort pays off handsomely and soon you will not want it any other way.

The potential benefit is an intellectual and spiritual experience that could well change not only individual lives but (and here comes a big claim) the national ethos as a whole, much as Common Sense and Uncle Tom’s Cabin did in their tumultuous times. We don’t pose this possibility lightly. Poor Richard’s Lament is anything but “business as usual.”

We do not normally publish works of fiction, and a book of this size tends to scare us. But after reading Michael Zuckerman’s Foreword (brilliant in its own right) we couldn’t resist launching into the manuscript, and it soon became clear that Poor Richard’s Lament is no ordinary work of fiction, that the central character is no ordinary protagonist, and that Hobblebush was very lucky to be able to bring this “most timely tale” to as wide an audience as possible. By the time you reach the “Last Word” in this extraordinary offering (nine years in the making), we expect that you will fully appreciate why we found this to be the case.

Sidney Hall Jr., Publisher
Hobblebush Books