You may wonder why I named my website Copley Classics. My mother’s name was Marina Copley. She taught me to read before I attended school in Ireland, shared her love of literature with me, and guided my reading from childhood to adulthood. She introduced me to the fairy tales of Oscar Wilde, Enid Blyton’s Famous Five series, the poetry of Omar Khayyám, Jane Austen’s
Emma, Samuel Pepys’ Diary, Choderlos de Laclos’ Les Liaisons Dangereuses, and a host of other authors. When I was a good girl (and occasionally, I was) my mother rewarded me by hiding “surprise” books under my pillow.
I think of my mother with love and gratitude for teaching me to treasure books: it was her greatest gift to me. She never wrote a book herself. There are no buildings, bridges, or monuments named after her. But, like Dorothea Brooke in George Eliot’s Middlemarch, “The effect of [my mother]…on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts.”