I wonder if everyone has unexplainable interests towards famous (or notorious) people long gone. My list includes Virginia Woolf, Aino Kallas and Anaïs Nin, to name a few. It would be logical for me to want to know as much about them as possible - to read all of their books and diaries, to look for photos and such. I have never really done this though. I own books about them and books that they have written, but for the most part I have not read them. I hold onto my copies of the diaries of Anaïs Nin as if they were the Bible, but I have not read a single volume in its entirety. I browse through them, read a paragraph here, one there, and I am not even ashamed of it. I have collected her diaries as if they were good luck charms - whenever I see a volume, any volume, in any language, in a book store, I feel the need to buy it.
For me the lack of knowledge is what makes the mystery. The less I know of these fascinating people, the more interesting I find them. This doesn't stop me from obsessing over the symbols of my affection and appreciation - the books.