Long before I ever read his books I had a toy called a Balzac. It was a colorful cloth cover for a balloon. You’d inflate the balloon inside it so it resisted popping for outdoor play.
It was a fun toy that didn’t catfish Ukrainian nobility, squander fortunes, elaborately furnish dilapidated houses with mismatched antiques or die owing everyone it knew.
Long before I ever read his books I had a toy called a Balzac. It was a colorful cloth cover for a balloon. You’d inflate the balloon inside it so it resisted popping for outdoor play. It was a fun toy that didn’t catfish Ukrainian nobility, squander fortunes, elaborately furnish dilapidated houses with mismatched antiques or die owing everyone it knew.