Chapter 127 Introducing Antiquarian Books to the Newcomer, Part 2

If you’re returning to read the second part of this post after reading the first part, which took a direction I didn’t anticipate when I started writing, thank you. If you’d like to read my rambling preamble, which I posted yesterday, click here.

To succinctly recap, veteran antiquarian booksellers lament the fact that people younger than the age of, say 35, are not collecting books. I spent most of yesterday explaining a related complaint by experienced teachers that kids today don’t read. I then explained that some kids do read and read quite well, even though they are not the majority. I also explained how I tried to reach those students who were reluctant readers. Usually this involved showing them some kind of connection between what they were reading and contemporary culture. It didn’t work every time, but I think I won a few converts by doing this. (Why I couldn’t just say it this way yesterday is a mystery, but I just couldn’t.)

What attracts people to collecting antiquarian books? Is it because they love to read and to gain knowledge? Is it a desire to preserve and pass down history, literature, culture? Is it because they love the beauty of fine bindings? Is it because it makes them look intelligent? Is it because they love the tactile feel of a book in their hands? At least one of these things, or some combination thereof appeals to most collectors I know. Indeed, just as there are actually kids who read, there are book collectors out there, and according the Fine Books and Collections annual report on the top 50 book, map, and manuscript auction sales, a select few have even spent from $406,000 to $21.3 million on single item purchases in 2007. Granted, the great majority of us booksellers can only hope to sell such amazing items someday, but the great majority of those who collect and purchase books also can only hope to make such an amazing purchase as well. There are collectors out there who want to build an interesting, meaningful collection without committing to spend a half million dollars or more. Can that be done? I think so.

Despite a love of books and working in academia and publishing for a time, I did not know the world of antiquarian books existed until I was in my early 30s. Every day I ask myself why wasn’t I aware of antiquarian books before this? I wonder whether I missed the day in school where antiquarian books were taught.

Oh, wait.

Antiquarian books aren’t taught in school. Don’t get me wrong. At my high school we read the oldies but goodies going back to Gilgamesh. But we read them in translation in tiny print in cheap paperbacks — a dismal way to try to appreciate a good story and to enjoy a book. Students have the great literature of the world inflicted on them in the worst of formats. These flimsy paperbacks, encasing the literary classics of world cultures, are akin to a diet of caviar presented on a Saltine cracker. Ultimately, they will not encourage many to pursue gourmet food. Few students who have read an 8-point print, paperback Crime and Punishment have any desire to later acquire an expensive, leather-bound edition of the book whose very name suggests to the high school student that its assigment in school is retribution for a past transgression. No, rightly or wrongly, secondary school is not the place where the idea of antiquarian books or even primary sources are introduced. I’m not arguing for the use of fine first editions as classroom texts, but certainly showing students a fine first is something which could, in some cases, be done. I did it with a few of my Dante books.

Most people I’ve met who have been involved with antiquarian books their whole lives either got an early job in such a store or had a friend or relative who collected or was a librarian. Again, this was not the case with me. I don’t have any relatives or friends who collect books. I was not exposed this way. I do have a friend who obsessively collects automobilia, though, so I did have a good chance to observe the mindset of a collector and the long-term vision and perserverance one needs to build a meaningful collection in that field. My general impression at the time was that collecting looked fun, but that it was probably out of my modest price range.

Then, as many of my favorite books have, a book came to me via serendipity: Nicholas Basbane’s A Gentle Madness. If you’re a long-time reader, you already know that I read this book and it was as if a tuning fork had resonated in my heart in perfect pitch. I knew then that I needed to be in the world of antiquarian books.

I don’t want another person like me to miss out on the joy of book collecting for another second. I was not exposed to book collecting at a young age, and though I was taught to appreciate — no, love — literature, the idea that a book is a fine thing, to be appreciated as an object, was not reinforced in school. I suspect there are many like me, who really like books, but don’t know what that next step is. I want to help them. That’s why I’m a bookseller.

How, then, do we troll for new collectors and make it known that book collecting is a possibility for anyone with a serious interest?

Unbelievably, just when I (finally) seem to be getting to the crux of it, I keep getting interrupted by my real life today (hence the posts that never seem to get to the point)! Sorry to conclude abruptly. I have to end this post here (hungry children whining for dinner in the background). I apologize. I promise to wrap this up tomorrow with (finally!) some actual specifics about reaching out to new collectors and introducing antiquarian books to the newcomer. Please say you’ll come back tomorrow?