What I Learned At the Auction

Just when I think I’ve told you every possible variation on auctions and sales something new pops up. Such was the case this weekend when we attended our fourth auction presided over by my favorite singing auctioneer. As always, I had read the bill of sale multiple times and checked the website twice to study both the original photos and the later additions. And yet that old familiar feeling that we were about to plunge blindfolded into the dark abyss overcame me Saturday morning as we hit the road heading south. As it turns out, it was not without provocation.


For some odd reason estate sale companies and auctioneers do not like to photograph individual books, preferring instead the quantity approach which entails jumbled photos of heaps and mounds of books on the floor, shelves of books taken from dueling distance, or rows of small book lots lined up on tables under glaring lights. Descriptions consist of the actual titles of two or three books (most of which are never the books you’d want anyway) and then a generic catch-all for the rest such as “lots of books,” “large book collection”, or “many old books.” “Many”, “large” and “lots” are words as loaded as  cannons in The 1812 Overture – they make a lot of noise, but in the end they usually go up in a puff of smoke.


In this instance the auction company photographed two indivdual books -- a two volume military history and a turn of the century, rather common, volume on the Spanish American War. I already have both, but they weren’t bad looking, so I thought perhaps they were a good omen. It’s always wise when going to an auction that has books to check out the other offerings as well to get a general feel for the quality of the sale. I did that too and was pleased to see that it was much better than usual. In fact, I had my eye on a chair, a  Victorian era print in its original frame showing the progression of a woman’s life, and two paperweights, one featuring the likeness of Andrew Jackson etched on babbitt metal and so incredibly heavy you needed a forklift to pick it up. All were for the antiques mall.


But did I get any of these things? No, I did not. And here’s why. The crowd was huge and right from the get-go when the first item, a set of sterling flatware in its showcase wooden box, hit the block and sold in a spirited round for $1500, the mood shifted to a new level. You could feel it in the air as palpable as cottonwood seeds during a Michigan spring. Everyone knew that if you wanted something badly you’d better plan to dig deep -- which is fine of course if you are buying for yourself, not so fine if you are a dealer. One by one I lost every non-book item I wanted even though I overbid in a couple instances and was relieved to be saved from myself.


Before I tell you what happened with the books you need to know that most of them were about antiques and included out-of-date price guides (all price guides are out of  date by the time they come off the press) but these were from the 70’s and 80’s. The only goodies were two antiquarian children’s books, one of which was offered up with two pedestrian titles in a lot. The book I wanted would sell for around $60 retail– the other two were essentially worthless.


So then -- up comes the first book of the day, A Catalogue of American Antiques, a book so common that on Advanced Book Exchange alone there are 163 copies, most of which are available for $3-$5. This one practically screamed “loser!” into a megaphone, but the crowd had whipped itself into such a frenzy it failed to hear it. By the time the gavel went down several bidders had pushed the price to $65. Yes, really -- $65!!!!!! And that was just the beginning. Several encores of this performance ensued in rapid succession until finally Eric and I stood as one person and departed in a shocked stupor.This wasn’t the first time we’ve witnessed such a thing, but it never fails to send me reeling. I have no way to prove anything here, but it’s been my observation that the more rural the area the more likely it is that books will go crazy if the crowd is large.


Once I saw a Dover paperback reprint on American Indians sell for $40 on a choice-out and another time stood back in horor while a guy vastly overpaid for the 1909 two volume set, Personal Memoirs of U.S. Grant. The auctioneer announced that both volumes were signed by Grant, which they of course were not except in facsimile. An Akron dealer in antiquarian books politely pointed this out and I seconded it, but the auctioneer said, “Well folks, it’s up to you to decide who’s right.” The crowd went with the auctioneer and the winner paid TWICE what he should have, which is amusing insofar as he would have stolen them at that price if they’d really been signed.


But here's the thing -- while internet sellers chop prices like firewood a parallel universe exists off-line. Neither reflects reasonable value and yet in this crazy world both “work.” What does it   mean? I suppose you could spend vast amounts of time and research figuring it out, but to me the simple message is both clear and hopeful. Books and antiques may indeed be dying just the pundits say they are. But I think it's also safe to say that it's a bit too early to plan the funeral. Plan instead a new approach to selling them.