I’ve never been a big fan of ex-library books, but I will upon occasion buy them if they are scarce, topic specific, in excellent condition, and will provide the reader with a cheaper -- but not too cheap!:-) – opportunity to acquire a valuable book, or set of books, without having to take out a second mortgage. Thus was the case last week at the library sale at which I got the amazing children’s book that had me practically dancing around the library. After I had perused the specials area and bought the Mary Frances Sewing Book and the four volume history of nursing set, I took one single stroll through the multi-scanned stacks and found for $5 an absolutely pristine set of ex-library books on Islam copyrighted in 2003. The only indicator of library ownership is one stamp to the top edges of each volume.
Appearance-wise it doesn’t get any better than that. The amazing thing is that at this particular library sale it’s often possible to find such treasures. But every time I do I remember a story told to me by a long-time dealer who has since retired. Some years ago – I want to say maybe five or six – he sold an ex-library book on amazon which resulted in a brouhaha not quite the equivalent of a political scandal, but almost. As with all the books I’ve ever bought from the sale mentioned above, his did not bear a Discard stamp. A vigilant customer duly noted it, shipped the book back to the library of origin and reported him to amazon as a book thief. I forget how it got resolved in his favor – probably the library vouched for him -- but eventually he fell back into grace and never had another problem. I’m not telling you this to make you afraid of unstamped ex-libs. It’s just that I thought of it today when I listed the Islamic books which then led me to think of book thievery in general, a crime which is hardly new. Bear with me here, as it's late and I'm tired and hungry, but I want to tell you all this stuff because I won;t be here tomorrow (book sale) and anyway I'm thinking of it TODAY.
In recent years I can recall at least two high profile cases of book theft in the U.S. – the ebay guy who forged authors’ signatures and the very respected East coast rare map dealer who, due to dwindling possibilities to legitimately purchase the rare maps that had made him a respected figure, resorted to slicing them out of rare books in university libraries. In both of these cases the books and maps weren’t stolen as a result of bibliomania, an uncontrollable love for books, even though I suspect that Mr. Smiley,at least, loved his maps very much. The primary illness was retailmania, a bug of an entirely different variety.
What’s utterly astounding though is that the largest book heist in modern times WAS the result of bibliomania. Stephen Blumberg not only loved books, but thought they were being held captive as the result of a government plot to keep them away from the citizenry. To him, the books were the equivalent of Salome doing the Dance of the Seven Veils. They whispered, “Come hither,” and he eagerly crawled through ventilation ducts and elevator shafts to liberate them from museums and libraries – 23,600 of them, in fact. The whole story is spelled out in Nicholas Basbanes’ marvelous book A Gentle Madness, Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes and the Eternal Passion for Books, (Henry Holt, 1995) which is one of my favorites in what I have recently come to call my books about books COLLECTION.
It all began in childhood when Blumberg took a fancy to Victorian residential architecture. At first he stole books relating to his topic, but later the mania escalated and pretty soon such literary gems as a first edition Uncle Tom’s Cabin beguiled him as well. In 1988 he even had a brush with the law close enough to have scared the hair off his chin, but apparently didn’t. He was found in the rare book room of the University of California Library at Riverside after hours trying to pass himself off as a professor whose library card he had stolen! The result was a charge of trespassing and possession of burglary tools and a fine of a thousand dollars. Bad, yes, but to a bibliomaniac, not nearly bad enough.
Blumberg’s undoing came two year s later in 1990 at the hands of a “friend” who turned him in to the feds. But here’s the kicker -- the “friend” had often accompanied him on book liberating junkets across the country. Blumberg got a sentence of 72 months in prison, of which he served four and a half years, plus a $1000 fine, and the friend got $56,000 in bounty money. Worse, yes, but to a bibliomaniac in full bloom, not worse enough. In 1996 he got nabbed again!
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