FOR MORE than 30 years, I have been wondering about L.R. Generson.
On one of our first Christmases together, my husband gave me a complete set of Dickens. There were 20 volumes, bound in gray cloth with black corners, old but in good condition. Stamped on the flyleaf of each volume, in faded block letters, was the name of the previous owner: “L.R. Generson, M.D., Bronx, NY.’’
That Dickens set is one of the best presents anyone has ever given me. A couple of the books are still pristine, but others - “Bleak House,’’ “David Copperfield,’’ and especially “Great Expectations’’ - have been read and re-read almost to pieces. Over the years, Pip and Estella and Magwitch have kept me company. So have Lady Dedlock, Steerforth and Peggotty, the Cratchits and the Pecksniffs and the Veneerings. And so, in his silent enigmatic way, has L.R. Generson.