The Prestige

If he survives me, which is likely, he will discover that my revenge is subtle and many-layered.

For a start Borden will be appalled to discover, as he soon will, that what he sees as his greatest professional secrets have been published without his permission. His chagrin will be the deeper when he realizes that I was responsible. He will be further confounded when he works out that somehow I was able to do this from beyond the grave. (He believes me already dead, a fact I elicited from the notebook itself.) Finally, should he read the annotated text he will discover the true subtlety of my final revenge.

In short, I have improved his text by making it less obscure, by expanding on many of the interesting general topics which he merely adumbrates, by illustrating his absorbing theory of acquiescence with numerous examples, by describing the methods of many of the great illusionists. I have added detailed descriptions of every trick I know him to have invented, as well as those others I know him to be capable of performing, and in each case have seemed to explain each one without actually revealing the central secret.

Above all, I have heightened the mystery surrounding the illusion he calls The New Transported Man, but have given nothing away. The fact that the Bordens were identical twins is not even hinted at. The secret that obsessed these two men's lives remains a secret.

The surviving Borden will therefore realize that I had the last word, that the feud is over and that I triumphed. While invading his privacy I showed I could respect it. From this I hope he will learn that the enmity he fostered between us was futile and destructive, that while we sniped at each other we were squandering the talents in us both. We should have been friends.

I will leave him this so that he may reflect on it for the remainder of his life.

And there is one extra revenge, by omission; he will never discover the secret of Tesla's apparatus.

25th April 1904

Work on the Borden text goes well.

Last week I wrote to three specialist magic publishers, two in London, one in Worcester. Describing myself as an amateur of magic, and suggesting in an unspecified sort of way that over the years I had used my position and wealth to support or sponsor various stage magicians, I explained that I was editing the memoirs of one of our leading illusionists (no name mentioned, at this stage). I asked if, in principle, they would be interested in publishing the book.

Two of them have so far replied. Both letters are non-committal, but encourage me to submit the material. These replies also remind me that I shouldn't have admitted to personal wealth, no matter how elliptically; each letter implies that the book would be more likely to find favour should I be able to contribute to the publisher's production expenses.

Naturally, this does not these days present me with a problem, but even so Julia and I are awaiting the third response before making any decisions.

18th May 1904

With the work complete, we have submitted the manuscript to the publisher of first choice.

2nd July 1904

I have agreed a publishing deal with Messrs Goodwin & Andrewson, of Old Bailey, London EC.

They will publish Borden's book before the end of this year, in an initial edition of seventy-five copies, at a price of three guineas each. They promise abundant illustration, and intensive advertisement by personal letter to their regular clientele. I have acceded to the defrayment of one hundred pounds towards printing costs. Now that Mr Goodwin has read the manuscript he has put forward several novel ideas for presentation.

4th July 1904

Over the last four weeks my remission has ended, and the earlier illness has returned in force. First came the purplish weals, then a day or two later the ulceration of mouth and throat. Three weeks ago I became blind in one eye; the other followed a day or two later. For the last week I have been unable to keep down solid food, but Julia brings me a mild broth three times a day and that is keeping me alive. I am in such pain that I cannot raise my head from the pillow. The doctor calls twice daily, but says that I am too weak to be transferred to hospital. My symptoms are so distressing that I am unable describe them in detail, but the doctor explains that for some reason all my body's natural immunity to infection has been damaged. He has confided in Julia (and she subsequently in me) that if my chest becomes infected again I will not have the strength to resist.

5th July 1904

I had an uncomfortable night, and as dawn broke this morning I believed that I had reached my last day on this earth. It is, however, now approaching midnight and I am clinging on.

I started to cough early this evening, and the doctor came directly to see me. He suggested bathing with cool towels, and they have helped make me more comfortable. I am unable to move any part of my body.

6th July 1904