Part Five From Book Hound To Cookbook Pursuer

PART FIVE

From Book Hound to Cookbook Pursuer - Same Idea But a Markedly Different Focu
     As readers of this  post, must now appreciate, Suzanne and I are stalwart book lovers. Eager bibliophiles on the verge of going full monty into bibliomania. My friend and associate book collector, David Brown didn't like either title for what he did as a means of entertainment. Truthfully, and as his biographer, Miles David Brown passed the bibliophile stage in only a few years of active book collecting. He subtly but quickly evolved into what can only be considered the "bibliomaniac" level of loving books too much, which ultimately cost him his marriage, and most of the open space in his Hamilton, Ontario bungalow. Yup, he was a book hoarder, more so than a collector, by the end of his industrious, always-on-the-move existence as a collector. Surprisingly, it's a pretty thin line all collectors can cross even without knowing it, and begin to hoard for reasons of emotional surrender to a particular interest. I've been as close-as-spitting you might say, and with Dave as my mentor for many years, I had begun to slip into his world of excesses. Suzanne enjoyed the same mentorship, and although it was an honor and privilege working side by side with this well known bookman, we both knew we were making compromises by bringing in too many books for our own ability to then get rid of them as book sellers. I think switching to cookbooks about five years ago, was both a good strategy, and one that would deny us the open lane to ever become over zealous about the volumes needed to feel satisfied. And this, by the way, is what it's all about. We have at times felt we needed more books but just to possess them, not to actually benefit from them.
     The difference between collecting old books and, on the other side, cookbooks, at least for us, is that rare and old books are most significant when they are in good to pristine condition. Condition is critical and value is directly proportional to the degree of damage. If an old or otherwise collectable book, that was published with a dustjacket, is missing this component in the present tense, it will lose upwards of seventy-five percent of its market value. The same devaluations occur with pages that are ripped, water damaged, or when the spine is damaged or failing at the point of both front and back hinges. Books that are dirty, scuffed or smell moldy, are considered seriously compromised, and although can be conserved, become more significant for information and story they contain, than having any kind of serious market value.
     As far as rare, vintage, collectable and out-of-print cookbooks, content is generally more important than condition, when you are immersed in a reference enterprise as is ours at present. We use a lot of highly collectable and important cookery resource books, because we require the content, thus being its most important asset to us. We have sold some unbelievably beat-up cookbooks, very ugly to the collector of pristine books, even with seriously compromised covers, because, as it turned out in these cases, the buyer needed the book for a specific reason, or for the sake of sheer nostalgia, no matter what the prevailing condition. To us, it is not all that detrimental to have greasy fingerprints showing on a book jacket, if it was put there by the home cook(s) who once owned and benefitted from it as a cookery resource. Our cookbook buyers generally appreciate the visible provenance of a text that appears to have had a busy life in the pursuit of quality home cookery. It's not that the rules of condition are all that much different, but what is the exception, rests with the collectable characteristic, well beyond the value of a pristine copy. A pristine copy is fine if it's newly published, but a book that shows considerable use, and the battle wounds of being stove-side, demonstrates a different and tangible value, that for all intents and purposes is what matters most to a new owner looking to benefit from the text as a resource.
     This may seem a little confusing, but it's really quite simple. Old book collectors as a rule, and by my association with collectors, want their books to be in great condition, because it does matter as an investment. You may be surprised to know this, but an autographed edition can actually devalue a book, unless it is the signature of an author of the calibre of Charles Dickens, Lewis Carroll, or Washington Irving. It's no longer pristine or even fine, with a signature or inscription penned onto an inside cover page, or title page. Same goes for sports cards. It's why a lot of collectors have sports stars autograph pieces of paper, and not on the card-face itself. An autographed book is considered separately in most cases, being sold as such, and not as pristine or fine copies, even though that may be the state of condition. Fiction collectors are the most precise in this regard, moreso than most who collect non-fiction, which comes down to a more intense scrutiny on content and information contained within, than a work of literature, where packaging and presentation is the treasure value of a first edition. First editions by the way, are of critical importance in fiction, as I'm sure you can imagine, such as the case with Margaret Mitchell's "Gone With The Wind." While it's not to say that first editions of popular cookbooks are any less important, especially from a bygone era, they are not the end-all when it comes to the business of using them as resources, as we do, and in re-selling them to "foodies" who are allured by the content and reputation, and couldn't care less if it is a stated first edition or even in excellent condition. Let me put it this way. Even if a lawnmower ran over an important cookbook, as long as most of the pages could be read, and copied for posterity, it will hold a value as a reference text.
     The point of all this in fact, is that our turn away from collecting mostly rare, old and out of print books, and switching to cookbooks has given us a lot more flexibility in acquiring materials for both our cookery archives, and for our shop shelves. We're not turning down books because of ever-so slight blemishes and light damage to the cover stock. A cookbook doesn't have to be attractive, or have amazing cover graphics to be coveted by collectors, mostly interested in the contents of even the plainest, simplest packaging. The only real downside, is that hunting for vintage cookbooks is much more difficult because of availability. As there are millions of old books to choose from, being non-fiction and fiction, there are far fewer desirable cookbooks for sale out on the hustings. Obviously it is still the case where the best old cookbooks are still being possessed and I dare say cherished by owners, who probably inherited them from family dating back generations. To address what I wrote in yesterday's post, there is still more availability of old cookbooks today, than there was when Suzanne and I first began collecting them back in the mid-1980's. The modern home cook it seems, (or at least we are told this by some visitors to our shop) can Google the recipes they want on their phones or laptops, avoiding the clutter of books in the kitchen altogether. These same people laugh at us for trying to go back to a time when every kitchen of merit, had a shelf of old and trusted cookbooks, with their companion handwritten recipes and box of printed cards with their favorite dishes featured. We just sigh, smile and keep our opinions in check, because there's no reason to try and change their conviction the internet has made everything in hard-copy obsolete. Just so you know, this is not the case, and things are going back even in terms of vintage vinyl for the record player. We should know, as we are major regional sellers of vintage and new vinyl.
     Honestly, it's hard to imagine a kitchen, ultra modern, or old fashioned "country" without a small stack of cookbooks; with traces of flour on their covers, and a few noticeable greasy fingerprints. It's folk art to us, but then we are loyalists to the old ways especially when it comes to kitchen traditions. We so loyal in fact, that we will even, when possible, give the provenance of the cookbooks we sell, because we think it's an added value to the material in question. It doesn't mean that knowing a former owner, and passing this information along to a purchaser, will add to the purchase price. It means with cookbooks provenance has its place, being the passed-on warmth and character of a cookery legacy. Think about how many great family dinners, and special holiday feasts were inspired by this same book, or books, and should a ghost of a former owner be attached somehow, how great would that be to have experienced help from the "other side" as an assistant cook. Hey, we all need inspiration, and creative boosts to get tasks completed, so getting some motivation for the spirit kind might be kind of neat. The ghost you bring home with that old cookbook, might be represented in actuality, by the greasy fingerprints and gravy stains it possess in fact. Any ghost that has "cookery" as a tipping point, would have to be "Casper-like," so you need not worry about malevolence in your household.
     Greasy fingerprints on a first edition of Washington Irving's famous book, "Bracebridge Hall," would seriously detract from its market value. If it was a cookbook that Washington Irving penned instead, well, fingerprints would be like the worn fret-board of a heavily used guitar; the clear sign of a passionate period of ownership in its own chronicle. We like that kind of thing, and we couldn't be happier as collectors, content with a few good finds, and never, ever disappointed, about coming home after a buying trip with only one wonderful cookbook, or on a good trip, a box full, versus the old days, arriving back at Birch Hollow with half a van load of very general old books. It's a lot less stress on the van, and much less of a burden on our home and shop, where they inevitably line yet another shelf.
     Please join Suzanne and I tomorrow for another installment in this series of stories about old cookbooks and handwritten recipes.