"The Reflected Faun"
                                                                                                    Laurence Housman
                                                                                                    Plate VI, The Yellow Book, Volume I, April 1894
                                                                                                    London: Elkin Mathews & John Lane

Never letting anyone take a picture you wouldn't want your mother to see is a sound piece of advice that I'm afraid is not followed nearly as often as it might be.  And yes, there are some very broad-minded mothers out there; my friend Frank, once a much-sought-after performer in the adult film industry, was always quite proud of saying his mother had seen all his work.  Although surely commendable when a parent takes an interest in their child's career, I do have to wonder if Frank's mum, back in Blue Hole, Ohio, ever wished she had snapshots of grandkids to put on the fridge instead of publicity photo stills from "In Deep" and "Heavy Action."  I think it's also safe to say the remarkably life-like rubber novelty item molded from Frank's original was not the sort of item she'd ever be likely to donate to the local church rummage sale either, as practical as it might be, not to mention its value as a conversation piece.

And yet, how often have we said, "it seemed like such a good idea at the time"?  Usually, I suspect, about the time we realize our mother or the authorities or the "wrong people" are now in possession of the evidence of that so-called good idea.  Then the self-recrimination and remorse wash over us and we wonder what we could have been thinking.  The only solution, of course, would be constant censure, second guessing everything you do, never being spontaneous, viewing everyone you meet with a camera with suspicion if not outright hostility.  But as you might imagine, that is easier said than done when you are as trusting and open and giving a person as our young friend Didier.

I for one never had any doubt about Didier's motives.  I'm quite certain he genuinely believed there was no harm in being photographed bound and gagged during a quick photo shoot on Count Alberto's yacht while Alberto was still at the casino in Monte Carlo, that it was all in good fun, that the photographer really was an old family friend and it was exactly the sort of innocent prank that would be terribly funny later, and not at all incriminating. 

Extortion is such an ugly word, and I for one can say without any hesitation it was the farthest thing from the boy's mind, as was eventually proved in court.  The entire case, however, is more fully developed in my (as yet unpublished and unfnished) memoir, "1904 on a Cruise: High Stakes and Hi-Jinx on the High Seas," a prequel to my current work, "1904 and The Yellow Book: A Quarterly Scandal," of which you are now reading a small selection.