Ceremonials of Common Days

Again, I had not planned to post today (No, no,this is not about writing. Enough has been said about that), but yesterday’s mail brought a small gem of a book I bought on feebay entitled Ceremonials of Common Days. I want to share it with you for two reasons – one because the prose is so lyrical it’s enough to make you believe that the songs of seraphim fill the air unceasingly if only you could be still long enough to hear their music. The second reason is purely practical – the book is a perfect example of a treasure one could easily pass by at a book sale.

I found it during a dull moment as I skimmed the offerings in fee-bay’s Antiquarian and Collectible category. As always, many, if not most, of the books were neither antiquarian, nor collectible, while those which did qualify were dazzling. Too dazzling, sadly, to buy for resale. But then along about page forty-five my bored gaze caught sight of a floral cover and the first name of the author, Abbie. Ding! Ding! Ding! Immediately my numb brain sprang to life just as my finger, acting with a will of its own, hit the button to place it on the Watch List. The opening bid had been set at $39.95 which was clearly a warranted self-protective move on the part of the seller. The book is worth more than that, especially since it is signed, but the seller wisely chose to open with the least she would accept. Although I felt sure that I had a good chance of getting it at the stated price, which included shipping, I decided to play my cards a little closer and bid later. As it turned out, I was the only bidder.

Lest you think I’m better than I really am at spotting uncommon treasures, I’m confessing upfront that I had this book before. Those of you who have been around for awhile know about Lillian’s auction and all the lovely books I bought from her Akron mansion some years ago. In many ways this auction created the bookseller I have become. Everything purchased was older and therefore required much more of me. I researched, I learned, and I fell in love with books that weren’t bright and shiny and sporting ISBNs. After that the die was cast – I would buy predominately books and paper from the distant past.

Lillian had this little book, but in my early naiveté I judged it by its size, its scant number of pages, and the fact that I had never heard of the author, Abbie Graham. Therefore it got set aside for months until one day I ran across it again and decided to put it in my feebay store which at that time deserved to be called my ebay store. I loved the way it felt, the way it looked, the substance of its pages, and it’s beautiful writing, but I thought it was probably little more than a gift book of the day. So imagine my surprise when I found few copies online and the price for each at almost $100. I priced mine accordingly, still bemused by the thought that it would sell for so much. About a week later it did. The buyer was a man who got it for his wife who had been looking for it for years. What’s interesting is that it has been reprinted several times (both this copy and the original one I had are fourth printings from 1928).One has to wonder, where did all those books GO?

Again, I checked online prices and again found few available and all in three figures, none signed. At the risk of redundancy, where did all those books GO? Here’s an excerpt – maybe it will answer the question. The author had just finished ruminating on life’s smallest joys when she wrote this:

“How much these things and others shall have shaped my spirit I shall not know, but of their daily fashioning I am aware. As my spirit, dominant and eternally adventurous, shall enter the vast seas, I shall not forget the sacramental service of the scaffolding of earth.”

Profound, poetic – one could weep. And I did. This small gem is a keeper which is why there are so few to buy. Will I sell mine? I don’t know ultimately, but for now at least, no.