You sometimes come across a person who says, "This is the book that changed my life." What if the book is the British _Post Office Guide_? This is what happened to the otherwise rather ordinary W. Reginald Bray, who nineteen years old in 1898, plunked down his sixpence at the Post Office to buy the large quarterly reference book. It is not at all clear what inspired Bray to make his purchase, but studying it, he learned of various postal regulations, and determined to test them out and to push limits. He had a lifetime of this curious hobby, which branched into collecting autographs by mail, and he meticulously kept records of what he sent out and got back. The results of his lifetime of postal adventures are beautifully recorded in _The Englishman Who Posted Himself and Other Curious Objects_ (Princeton Architectural Press) by John Tingey. The author is a philatelist who chanced upon a few of the odd postcards Bray had sent out, and started to hunt up more. Though Bray kept and filed all his postal experiments, his family sold the bulk of his archive after his death in 1939. It isn't clear where it all went, so Tingey has had his own adventures in finding specimens (and will be very happy if you can tell him of more). The handsome book is a tribute to the lifetime's work of a remarkable British eccentric, and it is crammed with beautiful illustrations of some of Bray's postal experiments.
Bray was an otherwise unremarkable accountant, but he must have wondered how far postal officials would go to follow their own rules. Would, for instance, a postcard clearly and legibly addressed, but in mirror writing, be delivered? Why, yes, it was; some postman took the extra effort to hold it up to a mirror and see it through. He enlisted the help of his mother, who crocheted an envelope with a needlework address; stamped, it was delivered just fine. He wrote a poem in which parts of the address were included and underlined. When he wrote an address on a postcard with sealing wax, however, the wax came unstuck and could not be read, so the card was returned. Returned also was the postcard sent "To Any Resident of London;" the unforgiving rubber stamp from the Post Office said, "Insufficiently addressed." A bunch of onions with an address tag was properly delivered, as was a turnip with the address carved into it. Bray was interested that living specimens could be mailed; he successfully mailed his terrier. The ultimate in his experiments was, as the book's title asserts, mailing himself. He did this three times. When he first mailed himself in 1900, there was no proof that he had done so, so in 1903 he re-mailed himself using Registered Mail, and the book includes a reproduction of the registry form to show that "Person Cyclist" was successfully delivered to Bray's father, who signed for the "Letter or Parcel." He mailed himself for the third time (he got the nickname "The Human Letter") as a publicity stunt in 1932. He developed an interest in postmarks from around the world, he sent messages by bottle and by balloon, and he sent out over 30,000 requests for autographs; just under half were successful. Hitler never sent an autograph (an underling sent more than one letter explaining why, because Bray asked more than once). Neither did King Edward VII.
John Tingey has produced a funny and unexpected book with many amusing illustrations. Bray would not have been pleased that all his documentation was dispersed and that only bits and pieces of his life's work can be picked up here and there. He would, however, have been satisfied at how much Tingey has found and with how much delight Tingey has presented the results here. There have been more important lives, and more detailed biographies, but few that can match this for eccentricity and drollery.