IT CAN NEVER BE JUST ABOUT THE MONEY - OR THE TITLE OF THE FINAL CHAPTER WILL READ "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?"
MAYBE ONLY A MILLION DOLLARS IN MEMORIES - BUT THAT WILL TIDE YOU OVER
I DON'T WANT ANYONE TO THINK I WOULDN'T LIKE TO HAVE A MILLION DOLLAR BUSINESS. IT WOULD BE ENORMOUSLY HYPOCRITICAL TO SAY THAT KIND OF THING, CONSIDERING I HAVE SPENT MOST OF MY LIFE HUNTING FOR THE HOLY GRAIL OF ANTIQUES. YOU KNOW, THE MILLION DOLLAR WORK OF ART. OR THE ORIGINAL HENRY MOORE SCULPTURE, FOUND AT A LOCAL ESTATE AUCTION. GEEZ, WHAT GREAT ASPIRATIONS WE HAVE AS ANTIQUE AND OLD BOOK DEALERS. ON OCCASION, IT DOES HAPPEN. SMART DEALERS MAKE SMART ACQUISITIONS. BUT JUST BECAUSE I HAVEN'T MADE MY FIRST MILLION DOLLARS YET, DOESN'T MEAN I HAVEN'T BEEN SUCCESSFUL AT THE ANTIQUE DEALER THING. SINCE I BOUGHT MY FIRST OIL LAMP, AT AN ESTATE AUCTION, IN BRACEBRIDgE, IN AND AROUND THE FALL OF 1974, I'VE LIVED THE LIFE OF AN ANTIQUE DEALER. IT HAS BEEN EXACTLY AS I HAD HOPED FOR, WHEN I STARTED OUT WITH A FEW VINTAGE CHAIRS, AND A COUPLE OF OTHER PRIMITIVE PINE PIECES; HAVING JUST ENOUGH MONEY TO INVEST IN A SHINGLE WITH MY NAME PAINTED ON, TO ADORN THE FRONT DOOR OF A SMALL SHOP ON THE MAIN STREET OF BRACEBRIDGE. THE BEST PART OF THE MULTI-DECADE ADVENTURE, HAS BEEN THE COMPANY SUZANNE AND I HAVE KEPT, AND HONESTLY, IT HAS BEEN THE SINGLE MOST COMPELLING REASON, FOR US TO PLAN OUR RETIREMENT, ON THE NO-FRILLS PLATFORM OF THE ANTIQUE BUSINESS WE CREATED IN 1986. AS MUCH AS IT APPEARS LIKE WORK, IT'S A PAYING HOBBY WITH FRINGE BENEFITS. WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE ABOUT A LIFE AS SUCH. WE DON'T JET OFF TO THE SOUTH SEAS. WE DON'T FEEL WE NEED TO FIND PARADISE WHEN WE ALREADY LIVE IN IT....AND OUR SHOP IS REALLY JUST AN EXTENSION OF OUR HOUSE ANYWAY. BUT THIS WAS THE PLAN, AND WHEN WE TALKED ABOUT IT, THIS MORNING OVER COFFEE, SUZANNE AND I AGREED ABOUT ONE THING ABOVE ALL ELSE; WE LIKE THE SOCIAL SIDE OF THE BUSINESS. WE DON'T THROW LAVISH PARTIES, AND WE DON'T ENTERTAIN AT HOME. THIS PLACE IS DIFFERENT. IT'S ALWAYS AN OPEN HOUSE. I'LL BE SITTING HERE, WORKING ON THE LAP-TOP, AND ALL OF A SUDDEN, SOMEBODY WILL HAVE PLOPPED THEMSELVES DOWN BESIDE ME, AND BEGUN PLAYING ONE OF THE STUDIO GUITARS. WE NOD AT ONE ANOTHER, AND THE SAME SITUATION MAY HAPPEN THREE TIMES THROUGH THE DAY. IT'S KIND OF NEAT. ESPECIALLY IF IT'S ONE OF OUR WELL KNOWN MUSICIAN FRIENDS, AND I RECOGNIZE THE SONG THEY'RE PLAYING....BECAUSE THEY ALSO WROTE IT. THEY TAKE ONE OF SUZANNE'S FRESHLY BAKED COOKIES FROM THE TIN ON THE TABLE, AND CRUNCH THEIR WAY BACK INTO THE HALL. "SEE YOU LATER," THEY YELL BACK AT ME, AND WELL.....IT'S JUST SO MUCH FUN, I PROMISE TO WRITE ABOUT IT SOME DAY.
WE NEED OUR PROFIT MARGIN, TO PAY RENT AND BUY GROCERIES, AND OF COURSE REPLENISH OUR STOCK; BUT WE LIKE THE FACT WE HAVE SO MANY REGULARS WHO DROP BY FOR A VISIT. THIS IS OUR IDEA OF A SMALL TOWN BUSINESS. A FAMILY BUSINESS, LIKE THE TELEVISION "WALTONS" HAD WITH THEIR MOUNTAIN TOP SAWMILL. WE GET TO KNOW OUR CUSTOMERS INTIMATELY, OR CLOSE TO, AND WE SHARE STORIES AND SIP COFFEE, AND QUITE ENJOY THEIR COMPANY. WHEN I'M ASKED WHY I CHOSE THIS BUSINESS, THERE IS NO SIMPLE ANSWER. BUT I DO KNOW IT REVOLVES AROUND A LOVE FOR HISTORY, AND A FONDNESS FOR NOSTALGIA; SOME OF IT OUR OWN. WHILE ONLY A SMALL PERCENTAGE OF THE POPULATION CARE ABOUT ANTIQUES, A LARGE NUMBER ARE SENTIMENTAL.....AND LIKE THE IDEA OF RECLAIMING SOME OF THEIR PAST FOR THE POSTERITY OF THE FUTURE. THESE ARE ALSO OUR CUSTOMERS. AND DO THEY EVER LOVE TO TALK ABOUT THE PAST.....BUT ON THEIR TERMS. WE LIKE TO LISTEN TO THEIR OPINIONS, BECAUSE THEY OFTEN GIVE US INSIGHTS WE NEED. WE LISTEN TO ALL OUR CUSTOMERS, BECAUSE THEY ARE, AS MUCH, OUR TUTORS. YOU'D BE SURPRISED HOW MANY EXPERTS IN COLLECTING, WE ENTERTAIN HERE IN GRAVENHURST, AND IT'S A FABULOUS WAY TO GET AN ENHANCED EDUCATION AND MAKE MONEY AT THE SAME TIME. A WHILE BACK, I GOT AN HOUR LONG TUTORIAL ON MARBLE COLLECTING. I CONFESS, I ONLY KNEW ABOUT MARBLES, FROM HAVING PLAYED WITH THEM IN THE SCHOOL YARD. THE TUTORIAL WAS FREE.
PULLING YOUR LEG? THAT MIGHT HURT, AND I WOULDN'T DO SUCH A THING
The difference today, with the popularity of antique malls, (not that there's anything wrong with them), is the reduction overall, of the traditional "mom and pop" store-fronts, and house-shops, that were the ladder rungs of the profession, since the beginning of re-sale history. Even from the early 1970's, when I began buying my first antiques, part of the fascination was going into these enchanting old shops, and visiting with the keen proprietors....always willing to mentor a fellow collectors. My girlfriend, Gail, and I, used to travel all over Southern Ontario, to find unusual and cluttered antique shops, like the one Charles Dickens wrote about. The more "curious" they appeared, from the outside, the more we wanted to explore. I've only had two ladies in my life, who could tolerate the pursuit of the holy grail. Gail and Suzanne. Gail's father was an admirer of vintage oil lamps, and I got my first taste of coal oil, back then.....something that has been continuous throughout my collecting years. No, I don't mean I drank coal oil. Just kept my lamps filled with it. I will even write these blogs, if I'm at home, that is, with an oil lamp at my side. Gail liked going to auctions, although she hated when I'd buy things, that were too large for her Volkswagon Beetle. "Did you buy that jam cupboard Ted," she'd ask, as I studied the back seat, to see how much wiggle room there was to work with. I once stuffed twelve oil paintings I was given, by an artist friend, into the back seat of her car, and in so doing, ripped a small portion of the ceiling fabric. Gail was scared to death of telling her father, who did all the maintenance on her car. Oh, was I in crap. I did everything she wanted for the next month, and agreed to arrange alternate transportation for anything I purchased, beyond the size and weight of an oil lamp or a crockery jug. I never went to an auction with the idea of buying a dining room set, including buffet (sideboard) and hutch. It just happened. Now, if you happen to be in this profession, or consider yourself a collector....a tad on the obsessive side, you know exactly what I mean. Happenstance has its own chapter in the profession's handbook.
Suzanne is a good sport, and like Gail, has shown me enormous patience, while I do the antique thing. One day, at an auction held at South Muskoka Memorial Hospital, (to clear out some old stuff from the nurse's residence), I purchased a neat 1960's kitchen cabinet, that stood about eight feet tall. I was driving a Chevette in those days, and although it had a hatchback, there was no way I could safely haul the cupboard home. So I hauled it home unsafely. But I put a red flag on the cupboard, for the three block drive home. Halfway there, Suzanne hit me on the arm, and said she was having problems with her vision. "Does it seem like the car is bouncing up and down," I asked. She nodded. "Well, that's because it is." The cupboard was too heavy and was actually causing the front wheels to leave the tarmac. Oh boy! I'm not proud of this, and it was the last time I ever did anything like this. But it was part of the disease I had, of buying based on bargain prices....not on sensible proportion. The point of this little confessional, is that the way I began in the profession, is not at all like I turned out....thankfully. I stopped worrying so much about making the big scores, at bargain prices, and instead, concentrated on achieving a more balanced approach to buying and selling....and that forced me to deal with the excesses, I assumed would always be part of the lifestyle. The change was hard, and driving past an auction sale, was like turning my head away from a jug of draft, on a hot summer day. But I eventually learned to focus, and I even stopped drinking. So Suzanne has had a lot better relationship with the antique-dealer-me, and we have far fewer fights, and she only throws me out five or six times a month, instead of every other day.
I can't claim to have the perfect relationship with one of the oldest professions in the world, or that we have the best shop amongst our contemporaries. What we can claim however, is that we've found our level ground, and a workable commonplace, which allows us to pursue antiques and collectables without the associated stresses, of trying to make a million bucks; or sharing the misery of not achieving our goal, because we were dawdling when we should have been hustling. While us old geezers of the profession, can hustle if we need to, there really isn't anything, in a business sense, that causes us too much chagrin these days. We meet together each morning, for our first coffee and cookie, with our boys, who run their music business up front; share some laughs, argue a little bit about hockey or politics, and when it comes time to open the door....we're ready to welcome our mates. When I think back to the final hours of our Bracebridge shop, it was like the last episode of "Cheers," and "MASH." It was then that I finally got the whole picture about what it had all meant. It was only our business, by the simple fact our name was written on the lease, and it had been our mandate to pay the rent. The essence of the business, was as much their investment in us as kindred spirits.
After we were all loaded up, the lads fastened in the car, Suzanne wiping away her own tears in the passenger seat, I went back for one last look. Sure there had been some long and lonely days; lots of wishful thinking, and discouraging moments, when we'd have to dip into our personal funds to meet rent obligations. But when it came right down to it, gosh, it was revealed to me, in only a few moments of recollection, just how important the social side of the business had been to our whole family. Asgar Thrane coming in with a nice winter coat, his son had grown out of, thinking Andrew could benefit from something a little warmer than what he was wearing. Just about every day we were open, one of our regulars had arrived at the shop, with a chocolate bar for Robert, a coffee for me, but most endearing of all, was their willingness to help out, if that's what I needed most. Brian Milne decided that he had to fix the shop phone for me, to provide some extra reach around the counter. He knew about this kind of thing from his previous technical profession. I just wasn't expecting an extension that would allow me to go upstairs to the bathroom, while still on the phone. We shared a lot of laughs, and talked through a fair number of personal dilemmas, but the mood of the place never changed. We were all embraced by the strange comforts of old stuff. I can't explain this, but maybe you know the feeling. The antiques and collectables had survived through a lot of world history to get to this contemporary stage. So, it was fitting then, that they were just as much a part of the trials of modern life as well. When I turned back, on the way up the stairs, I could swear that I heard the spirits of the old building, offering a hale and hardy, "thanks for the memories," and well sir, it was that last whisper and scent of the shop, that welled up the tears. Our boys had arrived at the store, at a very young age, and had been very much influenced by what went on here....and some of it was pretty remarkable. So if any one was to question where Andrew and Robert got their start in the second hand trade, I'm sure they would proudly rekindle their days spent in the basement digs, of the original Birch Hollow Antiques.
So as far as becoming millionaires in the antique trade....., we would be hard pressed to become any richer than we are at present. It's not everyone who gets to work at their hobby and call it a profession.
THE LITERARY ALLURE OF BOOK SHOPS ……A HAVEN FOR BUYERS AND READERS…..A PORTAL FOR CREATORS
MEETING PLACES FOR THE PASSIONATE - A RESPITE FOR THE UNINSPIRED TO REJUVENATE
I MET ONE OF ONTARIO'S WELL KNOWN OUTDOOR EDUCATORS, AND BOOK COLLECTORS, IN OUR FORMER ANTIQUE SHOP IN BRACEBRIDGE. ACTUALLY, OUR FIRST MEETING, WAS IN THE SHOP PARKING LOT, AND ALL I SAW, AT FIRST GLACE, WERE HIS LEGS AND RATHER LARGE BEHIND, PROTRUDING FROM THE OPEN TRUNK OF OUR CAR. SUZANNE HAD GIVEN MR. BROWN PERMISSION, TO LOOK INTO THE BOXES I HAD JUST DELIVERED TO OUR MANITOBA STREET SHOP. BIBLIOMANIACS AREN'T REALLY WORRIED ABOUT OUTWARD APPEARANCES, AND I SUPPOSE ON THAT DAY, IT WAS JUST FATE AND KARMA ROLLING TOGETHER, TO FORM A DOUGHY, CRAZY KIND OF FRIENDSHIP THAT LASTED FOR QUITE A FEW YEARS…..AND DOZENS UPON DOZENS OF PROFESSIONAL DISAGREEMENTS. IT WAS THE MOMENT WHEN DAVE WOULD DECIDE THE CURRIES WERE THE KIND OF PEOPLE A COLLECTOR SHOULD GET TO KNOW…..ASSOCIATE BOOK LOVERS…..AND I HAD ALREADY ANTICIPATED THAT THIS GUY, BULGING WITH RIPPED SHORTS, FROM THE TRUNK, WASN'T THE KIND OF CHARACTER YOU'D WANT TO DISMISS CASUALLY. SO WHAT ELSE WAS I GOING TO DO BUT BECOME HIS BIOGRAPHER; ALL FOR GOSH SAKES, BECAUSE OF HIS FRIENDLY INTRUSION THAT SUMMER DAY, THE DIRECT RESULT OF OUR MUTUAL INTERESTS IN OLD BOOKS. NON-FICTION OF COURSE. DAVE WOULD GO ON QUITE A TIRADE IF THE DISCUSSION ROLLED AROUND TO LITERATURE. HE ALSO HATED WITH A PASSION, ANY RELIGIOUS BOOKS, AND WARNED ME AGAINST BUYING THEM FOR THEIR ANTIQUARIAN VALUE. THEY APPARENTLY OVER-PRINTED MOST OF THEM, SO RARITY NEVER BECOMES AN ISSUE. HE BELIEVED THE "NOVEL," AND "NOVELISTS" IN GENERAL, WERE ALL THAT WAS WRONG WITH THE WORLD. YET YOU WOULDN'T HAVE DARED TO QUESTION THE WORK OF CHILDRENS' AUTHOR, THORNTON BURGESS, BECAUSE THESE WERE THE KIND OF BOOKS THAT GOT DAVE THROUGH THE DRUDGERY OF CHILDHOOD. DAVE HAD ONE WISH AS A CHILD…….AND IT WAS TO BE AN ADULT.
THROUGH DAVE BROWN, I BECAME FAMILIAR WITH MANY BIBLIOPHILES, BOOK DEALERS, ANTIQUE COLLECTORS, AND HISTORIANS, LIKE ARCHIVIST AND WRITER, ED PHELPS, AND HUGH MACMILLAN, ONE OF THIS COUNTRY'S REVERED FREE LANCE (FREE RANGE) ARCHIVISTS, WHO HAD SO MANY INCREDIBLE STORIES,…..THAT WELL, HE SIMPLY HAD TO WRITE A BOOK TO CATALOGUE AND VARIFY THEY WERE ALL TRUE ACCOUNTS OF HERITAGE ACQUISITIONS. IT'S ENTITLED "ADVENTURES OF A PAPER SLEUTH," AND MY AUTOGRAPHED COPY SITS ABOVE MY DESK, WHERE HIS PORTRAIT LOOKS DOWN UPON ME EACH AND EVERY BLOG SESSION. OF ALL THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE HAD AN INFLUENCE ON ME, AS BOTH A WRITER, HISTORIAN, AND BOOK SELLER, IT IS CURIOUS THAT EACH, WITHOUT MY KNOWING IT, KNEW AND RESPECTED EACH OTHER. DAVE BROWN KNEW WAYLAND "BUSTER" DREW AND ADMIRED HIS WORK ON THE AUTHORSHIP OF "SUPERIOR; THE HAUNTED SHORE," AND HUGH MACMILLAN WAS GOOD FRIENDS WITH BOTH GENTS, GOING WAY BACK I BELIEVE, TO THE HERITAGE OF BIRCH BARK CANOES; COMPANIONING WITH CANOE AUTHORITY, KIRK WIPPER, AND HIS FORMER CAMP CANDALORE, NEAR DORSET. THESE WERE JUST SOME OF THE MANY CONNECTIONS MADE THROUGH OUR LITTLE ANTIQUE SHOP AND BOOK STORE, FORMERLY ON UPPER MANITOBA STREET, IN BRACEBRIDGE. BY THE WAY, THE NEXT BOOK I WANT TO HIGHLIGHT, WILL BE HUGH'S OUTSTANDING BIOGRAPHY, WHICH WILL GIVE YOU AN ENHANCED OVERVIEW OF "HISTORIC PAPER," IN CANADA…..AND WHY YOU SHOULD HANG ONTO THOSE WAR-TIME LETTERS FROM YOUR RELATIVES.
AS I HAVE STRESSED, IN THIS SERIES OF BLOGS ABOUT THE ANTIQUE AND COLLECTIBLE BUSINESS, FROM MANY YEARS OF IMMERSION, I BEGAN THE BUSINESS, ORIGINALLY WITH MY FAMILY, AS A MEANS OF PUTTING MY DEGREE IN CANADIAN HISTORY TO WORK. I HAD NO EXPECTATIONS OF MAKING LOTS OF MONEY, AND IN FACT, I KNEW IT WAS GOING TO BE A STRUGGLE TO MAKE A YEAR ROUND BUSINESS WORK IN A SEASONAL ECONOMY. MANY SIMILAR VENTURES HAD, AND CONTINUE TO FAIL, BECAUSE THEY DON'T PREPARE PROPERLY FOR THE DOWNTURN OF BUSINESS, AFTER THE BUSY SUMMER SEASON HERE IN THE ONTARIO HINTERLAND. WHAT I DID KNOW, EARLY ON, WAS THAT I LIKED THE ASSOCIATION WITH OLD THINGS……AND THE OLD THINGS OF CHOICE, WERE ANTIQUES, COLLECTIBLES, AND OF COURSE, OLD AND OUT OF PRINT BOOKS. I LIKED THE LIFESTYLE. I ENJOYED THE SENTIMENTALITY, NOSTALGIA, AND HISTORY OF EACH OUTING, TO VISIT ESTATES AND ANTIQUE SHOPS, AND EVEN AFTER JUST A FEW YEARS HUNTING AND GATHERING, I HAD MET MANY FASCINATING FOLKS CONNECTED TO THE PROFESSION. IN REALITY, IT WAS THE PEOPLE-CONNECTION MOST OF ALL, THAT WAS THE ALLURE OF SPENDING ONE'S LIFE SELLING WHAT OTHER PEOPLE HAD CAST-OFF AS SURPLUS. EVEN TODAY, THE SAME HOLDS, AND IF I WAS DOING THIS ANTIQUE THING, JUST FOR THE MONEY, THERE WOULDN'T BE ANY POINT OPENING LATER THIS MORNING, OR TOMORROW, OR ALL THE DAYS AFTER THAT…..BECAUSE TRUTH IS, VERY FEW ANTIQUE DEALERS BECOME WEALTHY, UNTIL THEY CLOSE UP SHOP, AND HAVE TO INSURE THE LEFTOVERS. THEN ON PAPER, AT LEAST, THEY BECOME WORTH A CONSIDERABLE AMOUNT OF MONEY.
EVEN NOW, ALTHOUGH I DON'T ADVERTISE THIS AS THE REASON YOU SHOULD VISIT OUR FAMILY SHOP, IT'S THE COLLECTION OF FOLKS, OUR EVER-GROWING CUSTOMER BASE, THAT MAKES OUR DAYS, WEEKS AND MONTHS ENJOYABLE AND INTERESTING. WHILE IT'S CERTAINLY IMPERATIVE TO MAKE RENT, AND A LITTLE PROFIT IN ORDER TO CONTINUE THE SHOP AS A GOING-CONCERN, AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING, SO IS IT THE SAME TODAY. EVEN IN THE FIRST YEAR IN THIS NEW LOCATION, IN THE FORMER MUSKOKA THEATRE BUILDING, ON THE MAIN STREET OF GRAVENHURST, WE HAVE BEEN MAKING GREAT PERSONAL CONTACTS, AND ALREADY WE HAVE RECONNECTED TO MANY OF OUR FORMER CUSTOMERS, WHO MADE BIRCH HOLLOW A SORT OF HANG-OUT, SOMEWHAT IN THE SPIRIT OF ADRIENNE MONNIER'S PARIS BOOKSHOP, THAT WE DISCUSSED IN YESTERDAY'S COLUMN. WHILE IT IS NOT THE CASE, THAT WE HAVE WORLD RENOWNED ARTISTS AND AUTHORS DROPPING IN DAILY, TO SIP TEA, AND CONVERSE, WE DO HAVE SOME VERY FASCINATING FOLKS WALKING THROUGH THAT FRONT DOOR, AND OFFERING SUZANNE AND I SOME VERY INTERESTING BIOGRAPHIES AND HISTORIES……BUT THEN THAT'S WHAT OUR BUSINESS IS FAMOUS FOR……AND IT IS ALL HAPPENING HERE IN THIS PLEASANT BURG IN SOUTH MUSKOKA. BUT IT'S NOT SOMETHING YOU ADVERTISE……AS A PLACE TO COME AND SHARE YOUR STORIES……BECAUSE IT ISN'T NECESSARY. IT'S IMPLIED BY THE FACT WE ALSO SELL OLD BOOKS. THERE'S THE STARTER FOR MEANINGFUL DIALOGUE. SO LET'S GO BACK TO WHERE WE LEFT OFF, IN THE FIRST WORLD WAR YEARS, OF PARIS, FRANCE, AND THE BOOKSELLERS AND AUTHORS WHO DEFIED THE TERROR OF CONFLICT, TO INSPIRE THE LIFE AND GROWTH OF LITERATURE……AND THE ONGOING INSPIRATION OF THE AUTHORS WHO HALF-RESIDED THERE, WITH THEIR PROPRIETOR FRIENDS.
THE VERY RICH HOURS OF ADRIENNE MONNIER IN PARIS
Adrienne Monnier the owner of the bookshop, "La Maison des Amis des Livres, and Sylvia Beach, proprietor of the legendary book store, "Shakespeare and Company," across the road from one another in Paris, France, were champions of literature, in their own country, and abroad. They were considered kindred spirits to well accomplished authors, and their shops were havens to escape the burdens of two wars and the Great Depression. They housed, encouraged, supported, financed, and promoted the writers they came to know, and they provided sustenance, to those who were rich in accomplishment but low on funds, and shared the meagre provisions they had, with those who would help them build their respective businesses; by offering their newly published books for the collection. There is an overview that was written by Adrienne Monnier, about the nature and intent of her business enterprise, and it is so eloquently and effectively written, that it summarizes what most of us, who sell old and new books every day, feel about the shop atmosphere, and the importance of offering books to "the eager and the passionate amongst us." Now in her words:
"We founded La Maison des Amis des Livres with faith; each one of its details seems to us to correspond to a feeling, to a thought. Business, for us, has a moving and profound meaning," Monnier writes. The description of the business, translated from French, is included in the text produced by Richard McDougall, entitled "The Very Rich Hours of Adrienne Monnier," published by Charles Scribner's Sons, of New York, in 1976.
"A shop seems to us to be a true magic chamber; at that instant when the passer-by crosses the threshold of the door that everyone can open, when he penetrates into that apparently impersonal place, nothing disguises the look of his face, the tone of his words; he accomplishes with a feeling of complete freedom an act that he believes to be without unforeseen consequences; there is a perfect correspondence between his external attitude and his profound self, and if we know how to observe him at that instant when he is only a stranger, we are able not and forever, to know him in his truth; he reveals all the good will with which he is endowed, that is to say, the degree to which he is accessible to the world, what he can give and receive, the exact rapport that exists between himself and other men." Mennier notes that, "This immediate and intuitive understanding, this private fixing of the soul, how easy they are in a shop, a place of transition between street and house! And what discoveries are possible in a bookshop, through which inevitably pass, amid the innumerable passers-by, the Pleiades, those among us who already seem a bit to be 'great blue persons,' and who, with a smile, give the justification for what we call our best hopes. Selling books, that seems to some people as banal as selling any sort of object or commodity, and based upon the same routine tradition that demands of the seller and the buyer only the gesture of exchanging money against the merchandise, a gesture that is accompanied generally, by a few phrases of politeness.
"We think, first of all, that the faith we put into selling books can be put into all daily acts, one can carry on no matter what business, no matter what profession, with a satisfaction that at certain moments has a real lyricism. The human being who is perfectly adapted to his function, and who works in harmony with others, experiences a fullness of feeling that easily becomes exaltation when his is in rapport with people situated upon the same level of life as himself; once he can communicate and cause what he experiences to be felt, he is multiplied, he rises above himself and strives to be as much of a poet as he can; that elevation, that tenderness, is it not the state of grace in which everything is illuminated by an eternal meaning? But if every conscious person can be exalted upon his every thought of gain and work that is based upon books, have loved them with rapture and have believed in the infinite power of the most beautiful."
The bookshop owner reports that, "Some mornings alone in our bookshop, surrounded only be books arranged in their cases, we have remained contemplating them for moments on end. After a moment our eyes, fixed upon them, saw only the vertical and oblique lines marking the edges of their backs, discreet lines set against the gray wall like the straight strokes drawn by the hand of a child. Before this elementary appearance that is charged with a should made up of all ideas and all images, we were pierced through by an emotion so powerful that it sometimes seemed to us that to write, to express our thoughts, would solace us; but at the moment when our hand sought for pen and paper - somebody entered, other people came afterward, and the faces of the day absorbed the great ardor of the morning. We have often felt that 'all grace of labor, and all honor, and genius,' as Claudel says in 'La Ville (The City),' were granted to us; in that work there are many other words besides that seem written for us, and we can say with Lala….'As gold is the sign of merchandise, merchandise is also a sign…..Of the need that summons it, of the effort that creates it,……And what you call exchange I call communion'."
"When we found our house (shop) in November 1915, we had no business experience whatsoever, we did not even know bookkeeping, and along with that we were so afraid of passing for paltry tradespeople, that we pretended without end, to neglect our own interests, which was childishness besides," records Monnier. "It is ordinarily believed that life extinguishes enthusiasm, disappoints dreams, distorts first conceptions, and realizes a bit at random what has been offered to it. Neveretheless, we can declare that at the beginning of our undertaking, our faith and our enthusiasm were much less great than they are today. Our first idea was very modest; we sought only to start off a bookshop and a reading room devoted above all to modern works. We had very little money, and it was that detail that drove us to specialize in modern literature; if we had had a lot of money, it is certain that we would have wanted to buy everything that existed in respect to printed works and to realize a kind of National Library; we were convinced that the public demands a great quantity of books above all, and we thought that we had much audacity in daring to establish ourselves with hardly three thousand volumes, when some reading-room catalogs announced twenty-thousand volumes, fifty thousand, and even a hundred thousand of them! Truth is that only one of our walls was furnished with books; the others were decorated with pictures, with a large old desk; and with a chest of drawers in which we kept wrapping paper, string, and everything we did not know where to put; our chairs were old chairs from the country that we still have. This bookshop hardly had the look of a shop, and that was not on purpose; we were far from suspecting that people would congratulate us so much in the future for what seemed to us an unfortunate makeshift. We counted upon our first profits to increase our stock without end. These first profits were above all based upon the sale of new and secondhand books, for we did not dare to hope to find subscribers to our reading room until after several months."
She suggests, "One of the great problems of our commercial beginnings was the construction of an outside display stand for the secondhand sale. This operation required our presence for more than five minutes, during which we were exposed to the looks of the passers-by; we had to carry outside the trestles, the case, then the books and the reviews, which were old things that had come for the most part from family libraries. The first time that we made that display we were aroused to the point of anxiety, and when the last pile had been arranged, we escaped hurriedly into the back room of the shop, just as if we had played a bad trick on the passers-by; we looked through a gap in the curtain at what was for us an extraordinary spectacle, the formation of a little group in front of the books; the faces that appeared behind the shop window sometimes made us burst out laughing, sometimes shiver with apprehensions; if those people were to come in, address words to us! And here was an old lady who took a volume from the display and prepared herself to accomplish that grave act of becoming our first purchaser; one of us decided to emerge from the back room and stammered a ceremonious good day to the lady, who, with a very natural manner, showed what she had chosen - it was Henry Greville's 'L'Avenir d' Aline (The Future of Aline)' marked at seventy-five centimes; she had the kindness not to haggle; if she had haggled the situation would have become painful; we would have been torn between the temptation to give her the volume so that the deal might be more quickly settled and the duty of maintaining our really very modest price to show her that we were serious booksellers who did not charge too much. It was necessary all the same to wrap the book, tie it up with string, take the money, give the change out of a franc; thank effusively. That old lady, at last perceived the extraordinary emotion that she was provoking; she went away more troubled than she wished to let it appear and did not come back."
I will make another return visit to see Adrienne Monnier, in tomorrow's blog, and I would like to highlight some of the meetings she and Sylvia Beach had with famous writers like F. Scott Fitzgerald, T.S. Eliott, and James Joyce. It's enough to make you want to open your own bookshop.
There are times these days, when it seems the printed hard copy book is on the way out, so to speak. I am a loyalist, who while embracing the advances of technology, will never, ever, abandon a real book for an electronic device that claims to be its equal. Like a real Christmas tree…..there's a beautiful aroma of print, paper and binding, that just doesn't emit from an electronic device. My favorite book related movie, of course, was "84 Charing Cross," and to be in the book shop that was depicted in that movie……the dream of dreams. To be the proprietor of a shop of that calibre……well, a fellow can ponder the possibility…..can't he? Hope you can find some time to visit again tomorrow, as we make another visit to La Maison des Amis des Livres, in Paris, via the words of shop owner, Adrienne Monnier.
Thanks for showing your support for book sellers, antique dealers, collectors and all the others, who love history and all the wonderful relics it leaves behind to cheerfully hunt and gather. Books? Just the tip of the proverbial iceberg? There's just so darn much to collect.
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