The upside of course is that we won’t gallivant all over hell’s half-acre for nothing, but how incredibly strange is THAT? Most auctioneers aren’t book guys, often don’t even like books, but if they have them they at least snap a couple lousy pictures and mention a few titles or categories. Never have I seen an auctioneer state that he had many books only to realize that he probably didn't have ANY. A few years ago we went to an auction in Galena, Ohio which centered strictly on one man’s Native American book collection. Nothing was very old and we knew that going in, but there were nonetheless enough known prizes to make it worth the trip. Sure enough, collectors and dealers immediately got the ball rolling so briskly that at the half-way point the auctioneer did a complete one-eighty.
“I don’t usually like books, but this could make a believer out of me!” he announced with a grin.
No kidding! He did very well, but so did we. The book I most wanted and actually got was False Faces of the Iroquois, which though exciting, was surpassed by a sleeper hidden in a lot we bought for the store. I immediately laid claim to it and researched it exhaustively to find out why such an ordinary-looking university press book should price in three figures. Unfortunately, I can’t remember its title because it never made it to my database. I sold it on ebay almost instantly for $500. It wasn’t old, but it WAS collectible, primarily due to a controversy that sprang up around it causing most copies to be destroyed.
Anyway, getting back to this auction, I’m very disappointed to say the least, as it was supposed to launch the new season. We haven’t been to a sale in at least three weeks, and maybe even four. I am so itchy to buy books I’m practically jumping out of my skin. We MUST do it this weekend. We MUST, though so far it’s not looking real promising. I do, however, have a little back-up plan that might work in the middle of next week. It would require a trip to Michigan, but that’s okay because we could see the “grands” (love my babies!) and stay at our daughter’s house overnight. Hmmmm … this could work. Okay, I’m happier now.
So on that note I’ll end with something I read this morning from the book pictured above, A Passion for Books by Lawrence Clark Powell, 1958. I’ve had it for a long time, but could never seem to make a decision about it. Every time I get it out of the closet to list it I waffle. No, no can’t sell it. I want it. But then I take it down to the family room bookcases which hold my collection of books about books and waffle yet AGAIN. It’s not a book about bookselling or collecting – it’s a book about librarianship. Of course I love both libraries and librarians -- that goes without saying -- but the Dewey decimal system, is one of those things I'm grateful for, but doesn’t light a fire under me. So, why then you ask, have I not thought to OPEN the book and read past the table of contents to help accelerate the never ending decision-making process? Good question. I thought of it today in fact, whereupon, in the grand tradition of bibliomancy (which we earlier discussed), I opened it at random and read this:
“Suspect he who lives a bookish life from eight to five, then shuts the door to heaven-on-earth and turns to cards, or golf, or worse. Give me the man whose life is encircled with books, who lives and plays, wakes and dreams, sells or lends, and everlastingly reads books, who practices what he preaches, the true gospel that next to a mother’s milk, books are the best food. Thus I view with alarm the invasion of the book world by barbarians who neither believe in books for their totality of being, their fusion of form and content, nor have any sentimental feelings for the book as a thing in itself.”
Decision made! Rock on Lawrence Clark Powell. Rock on.
(NOTE: Lawrence Clark Powell died in 2001 at the age of 95.)
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