Hate to say this but. one can after all change one's name and move to Tasmania, or do as Napoleon did, move to an obscure island in the middle of the friggin' Atlantic to forever rest in Europe's Green Room.

Or one can use one's father's supposed purloining of a childhood as petulant excuses for misanthropic book store dillydallying...now that's just a tad 'sum-bolic'.

"It's all papa's fault. Oi! You goin' ta buy that book or salivate on its pages?"