THE LIFE, TIMES AND ADVENTURES OF AN ANTIQUE DEALER IN ENGLAND
AS TOLD BY REGINALD P. WAY, FROM HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY "ANTIQUE DEALER," PUBLISHED BY READERS' UNION, LONDON, CIRCA 1957
Breaking News; Just unstuck the family auto from the mouth of the driveway here at Birch Hollow thanks to the assistance of Luke Thompson and son Andrew Currie. Worth noting that at least ten of our neighbors passed us by and may also have been laughing along the way up the street.
Will it ever stop snowing in Muskoka? I am running out of places to throw the snow, off the lanes and driveway, at Birch Hollow, and it's beginning to look a lot like last January; which worries me a lot, because I don't like the increasing load on the extended verandah. It's bloody awkward to get at, and requires a separate path in front to get access. I had to clean the snow off our two sheds last evening, and again this morning, and I expect to repeat the task, again on Sunday, to avoid a collapse like last year. I had some help for that one, when a snow removal company send my neighbor's snow onto our roof tops. I've had to clean off the bird-feeder on the deck three times each day, so our feathered-friends can see that its full of seed, buried just under the snow cover, which unfortunately blows in off the roof. To make matters more interesting, three of us at the old homestead, have been suffering from nasty colds, and after working at the shop during the day, we mutually hate the idea of coming home, and instead of sitting by the hearth, with a hot cup of tea, have to set down to shovel for a couple of hours, just to get access to the place. I've shoveled Birch Hollow out three times a day, for most of the past week, and yes, I am past the point of thinking of it as a beautiful place on earth. Frankly, it sucks. I lost our new dog "Muffin" this morning, in the backyard, when it tried to climb a snowbank, and fell over the other side in the soft snow. Muffin is the size of a medium sized cat, and is mostly white, so the only thing I saw out of the ordinary, was its curled, wiggling tail, protruding above the surface. She had her little red coat on, but it was even below the surface of the snow for a moment. Muffin is having a ball out here, in the snowy wilds, and like a snowball tumbling down a hill, chases its tail up and down the embankments, and rolls like a thick spiral of snow along the back lane, appearing as if it's actually windblown. It's coming off a little bit of surgery, and with its medication complete, is now feeling frisky, and quite enjoying playing with the snow removers at the rear of Birch Hollow. Muffin's antics in the snow, are the most endearing about the day; because this snow removal stuff is back-breaking, and apparently never-ending. I'm writing today's blog from the studio, while anticipating the mountain of snow we will come home to again this evening, presumably the snow plow, if it comes at all, putting a wall at the entrance to clear first. I hate trundling and slip-sliding up the lane, while balancing heavy bags of groceries, and making sure Muffin isn't compromised and made invisible by the drifting snow coming in off the lake. I don't dislike winter, but I am starting to feel claustrophobic, as the snow banks get higher, and I have to throw the snow into the air and hope that it will clear the embankment. You know it's getting too high, when most of it slides right back onto your boots. If there was a time to be sick with a cold, it sure as heck isn't this week. I wouldn't mind some wind here, to sculpt the snow off the roof, and take it off to my neighbors who all have better snow removal equipment than we do.
I particularly enjoy reading the biographies of old book dealers, such as Mr. Everitt, a legendary rare book seller in the United States, and Dora Hood, a well known book vendor from Toronto, and just about any industry-related biography I can get a hold of, because I want to learn from their professional experiences back in the early years of this century, and beyond if possible. I've read biographies of famous auctioneers, gallery owners, antique dealers, and book sellers, to name a few, and I regularly consult them for the wealth of information they contain, that can help the modern dealer / collector in many different ways. The biography of British antique dealer, Reginald Way always fascinated me, but not because of any great adventures or stories of intrigue. He was pretty much an ordinary, but very experienced antique dealer, who had the respect of his colleagues. I wanted to know why. What had he done over the course of his professional life, to earn their respect and admiration; and all wishing very much, to continue working with him as a companion dealer. In our experience as antique dealers today, very few of our colleagues have interest in knowing what has happened in our profession of the centuries. I'm particularly old fashioned when it comes to researching and fully appreciating the profession I happen to be immersed. I can't imagine a time or circumstance, when I wouldn't wish to know more about the legends of the antique, art, and old book trade, as a means of improving my own perspective, and strategies for making improvements. I've talked to quite a few fledgling dealers, in the past three years, since opening our Gravenhurst shop, and I found it troubling, that so many of them feel that loving old things, is the only requirement for doing well in the profession of buying and selling antiques. It is absurd, that they would wish to limit what should be learned, to balance knowledge against modest experience, new dealers have yet to achieve. I've actually given-up recommending these industry books, because I know these dealers believe it burdensome, to have to carry this information while trying to out-muster the competition out on the hustings. I find myself getting irritated by those new dealers, who possess the arrogance, that all they need is passion, and deep pockets, to become savvy antique dealers. It's like all of a sudden deciding to be a professional hockey, baseball, or football player, because one decides it's the perfect fit for all the passion they possess. In other words, it's one thing to consider yourself an antique dealer, and quite another to actually survive, invest and profit like a veteran antique dealer, in what I would call, an intensely knowledge-based enterprise with pitfalls everywhere, on any day.
As one small example, a woman I know, who has been involved in buying and selling antiques and collectables for years, came to me one day, at a local second hand shop, to show me the original signed print by what was obviously a master artist. I wasn't at all sure what she was asking, but I did remark that as a well framed graphic, it was worth the twenty dollar asking price. This wasn't the case, as I found out later, because behind her, was a shopping cart full of similar matted and framed classic prints. What she was asking, more so, was if these prints are ones that had been done by the masters, based on their originals. I was tongue-tied, because there is no way, someone with her experience, should have misunderstood that the subject prints were a modern day manifestation of a printing press and a big bundle of paper; and a framer standing by, to set them up for eventual sale in department stores and decorating shops around the world. They were worth, on the rebound, twenty bucks each, and nineteen dollars of that was for the matting and frame. She actually thought they were etchings or engravings from the master artists, reframed cheaply in contemporary times. I tried to explain this, and then gave up. I have always offered to loan books and discuss aspects of collecting, in my areas of specialty, of course, should anyone wish to upgrade themselves. My lady friend put the pictures back, which, was sensible, considering she was planning to score a big profit, by flipping them to someone else. I guess I saved her some money that day. As for home decorating, they would have killed some wall space, and looked pretty over the sofa in the living room. They just didn't have any other significance, beyond being low budget decorative art, as modern prints go!
To begin today's blog, I need to explain a very old auction term, as described by Reginald Way, a career antique dealer, the subject of today's story. In the words of Mr. Way, "I don't suppose many people outside the trade know how the 'ring', or, to use the more familiar term, 'knock-out,' was run. Until an Act of Parliament in 1927 made this practice illegal, antique dealers invariably used this method - in fact I'm quite sure it still goes on to this very day - illegal though it may be. Let me explain. We'll say, for instance, that four dealers, all friends, go to a country sale. They may find that there is only one piece of antique furniture worth buying, its value perhaps being twenty-five pounds to the trade. Now, if the four men bid against each other, not only will the price at which it is knocked-down (auctioned) be higher, but only one of the four men can have it. The other three will have wasted a day, as well as their expenses, and none of them will go home satisfied. So instead of doing this, they arrange between themselves, for one of them only to bid for the piece. This means that he may very likely only have private bidders against him, (taking the dealers out of the bidding), and he has a good chance of getting it for as little as one pound. After the sale the dealers then auction the purchase amongst themselves. If one dealer goes up to twenty pounds for it, the total cost comes to twenty-five pounds, because he will pay the original one pound as well. The highest bidder becomes the owner, but the four of them share the twenty pounds, and the four of them each receive a five pound share in this profit. This pleases them all."
"Whenever I think of Fred Newcombe now, I remember the story he told me of how he first secured enough capital to start his most successful firm of picture dealing," writes, R.P. Way, in his 1957 biography, entitled simply, "Antique Dealer." We in the antique profession like to compare notes, and examine each other's intimate biographies, because there is always something to learn from experiences in our field of the "hung and gather," and "buy and sell."
"He (Fred Newcombe) began in a very small way with a framing and gilding business. Once, in order to finish a framing contract, he worked all night and kept himself going by having a saucepan full of onions simmering on a gas-ring in his workshop; when he felt the need for replenishing his energy, he ladled out a plate of boiled onions, larded them with butter, and, when he had finished his repast, felt fit to farry on for another few hours. His hard work gradually made him known amongst the city picture dealers as a man who never let a customer down. One day he went to a sale at Bitton in Somerset and, in hanging on the wall, was an old Dutch landscape; it was in such a dirty condition that the scene was hardly discernable. Newcombe bought this picture for a few pounds and, taking it back to his workshop, he found after carefully cleaning it, that it was an exquisite and genuine woodland landscape by Hobbema. He sold the picture for several hundred pounds and, having in this way secured some capital, he started dealing in old pictures and soon had several thousand pounds behind him."
Mr. Way notes of his antique dealer colleague, "His two sons, Charlie and Bertie, were - as I have said before great friends of mine. Before I knew them I remember hearing a story about Bertie that amused me. It happened early in the 1900's when the Prime Minister, A.J. Balfour, visited Bristol, and was towed through the city in a carriage drawn by enthusiastic young supporters of the Conservative movement. One of these was Bertie Newcombe. When they arrived at the Mansion House, the Prime Minister thanked the young men and ordered that a case of champagne should be divided amongst them. This started the lads on a spree, and by the end of the day, poor Bertie was 'very nicely, thank you.' There was a side entrance to their premises in Park Street, and just inside it stood a fine grandfather clock. Some of Bertie's friends took him home, propped him against the door and rang the bell and left him. As his brother Charlie opened the door, Bertie fell on top of him and together they hit the grandfather clock, which in turn fell on top of them.
"Later on, when I knew enough to be sent by my father to attend sales, Charlie and I often went together. We were both found of Devon and many a time we caught the 6:43 train to the West Country. I remember how, on one occasion, we went to a sale at a house in Paignton where we had seen described in the catalogue, a portfolio of sporting prints. When we came to examine the portfolio at the sale, we found it contained racehorse winners and jockeys up, by Aiken. I think there were some forty-two of these prints and they were in mint condition. Besides this lot there was a quantity of old china but nothing of outstanding value. We happened to run across Charles O'Donoghue, of Torquay, who said, 'I know what you two are here for; the portfolio of prints, but I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. There's a man here who's only just come to live in Torquay, and he's a keen collector of old sporting prints. He buys a quantity from the London dealers and is quite au fait with the price of them. I'll point him out to you in a minute.' When he did so, we saw a gentleman dressed in a Shantung suit and Panama hat. He was a good-looking man with a white beard and looked very much like George Bernard Shaw, though not so tall. The room in which the auction was being held was stiflingly hot, and when the auctioneer had reached the lot about a dozen before the one containing the portfolio, one of the porters shouted out, 'Hold hard for a minute, sir, there's a gentleman fainted.'
"The auctioneer stopped selling and we all craned our necks to try to see who the victim was. It was our opponent, the collector of prints, who had been overcome by the heat and was being carried out. Shedding crocodile tears, Charlie and were able to buy the portfolio for nineteen pounds, after which we bear it home on the next train back to Bristol, before the collector recovered and began making inquiries. Another time Charlie and I went to a sale together, where the outcome, for him at any rate, was less fortunate. The sale was at Ferndale in Dorset and there was a large quantity of old china there, all laid out on long trestle tables. Among the items were a pair of claret ground vases, with covers, painted with panels of exotic birds in colours. Charlie nudged me and whispered, 'my word, look at hose Chelsea vases.' Just as we were going to pick them up to examine them, a local Bournemouth dealer, stopped us, saying 'Don't touch them; they're absolutely perfect and are marked underneath with the small gold anchor.' On looking at our catalogues, we saw that they were not described as Chelsea but simply as a pair of old china vases. We naturally supposed we were asked not to touch them for fear other people's attention might be attracted. At the sale, the following day, the vases went for eighteen pounds, and in the knock-out afterwards, Charlie and I had decided to give a lot of money for them. During the first lull on the knock-out, when some of the minor dealers were being paid out, Charlie secured the vases for sixty-three pounds. Now, amongst the company, was Albert Swift, my old friend the dealer, and knocker; he stood in the doorway of the room and made signs at me when he saw I'd seen him. When I reached him he took me to one side and said in a low voice, 'Listen, chum, have you anything to do with those vases Charlie Newcombe's holding?' 'Yes, we're holding them together, Albert.' 'Well, take my tip and if anyone bids for them in the next round, let them go; they're not Chelsea but old Coalport copies.' 'Thanks very much, I'll take your advice,' I said, and hurried over to Charlie. When I told him about the vases he was annoyed and said, 'Don't be a mug, Reg., he's simply told you that to put you off, so that he can get hold of them cheaply himself. 'Well, Swift's never let me down yet, so if there is any further money bid on them, you must hold them on your own responsibility, as I won't be a partner in them on any condition.'
"In due course, the knock-out started again and Charlie had to go up another twenty pounds to retain them. When everything was over and finished, the news soon spread that the information given me by Albert Swift was perfectly correct; the vases were Coalport copies. A well-known London dealer made everybody, except poor Charlie, laugh, when he said, 'I can't understand how Newcombe came to buy them; they've got anchors on the bottom big enough to hold a ruddy battleship.' In those days they couldn't have been worth more than about thirty pounds." I've seen this happen hundreds of times, and it's a pretty crappy experience. Antiques are always a risky investment, and the only way to mitigate the potential loss, of buying a fraud or reproduction, is to possess as much knowledge about originality as possible; or don't make the purchase on a hunch you're right. Hunches can be expensive.
I was at a farm auction, quite a few years back, in the hamlet of Raymond, a short distance from Three Mile Lake, north of Bracebridge, and was enjoying the general vintage fare of this estate sale. It was a new auctioneer (to me) running the sale, and I was a little nervous about the way the helpers were neglecting to point out cracks, and chips in vintage china and glass. It is necessary for them to hold the pieces up, for bidders to see, and offer basic opinions about the condition of each. Job lots are usually sold as is, and this is generally implied. I was buying for our Bracebridge shop, at the time, and there were a lot of small pieces that would have made perfect additions to our largely Victorian glass and china collection. I bid on a half dozen pieces in the early going, and lost each one to a higher bidder. A woman I knew, tapped me on the shoulder, to advise me what the helpers were doing with the damaged items being put up for auction. They were carefully, and I watched them do so for most of that morning, using their hands, and fingers, to cover any visible cracks in the items.
While many auctioneers expect bidders to perform their own due diligence, by arriving at the sale early, to examine the pieces they're interested in bidding on, the fact that, on this day, they weren't at the very least, selling "as-is," and "as-found" gave bidders who had arrived late in the sale, the false confidence the antiques and collectables were in good overall condition; when in most cases, the opposite held true. I watched as a helper turned a beautiful hand painted Victorian coffee pot around on the table, looking for the crack he knew, in advance, was zig-zagging from top to bottom. He held it up, in such a fashion, as to completely cover the damage, and as an auction columnist for the local press, (The Muskoka Sun) I yelled at the auctioneer, to offer an opinion on the item's condition. Bidders can request this information, when the item is offered for sale, before the bidding has begun. The auctioneer looked annoyed with me, which is a bad sign that affects the karma for the rest of the day, and the helper was reluctant to show the audience the crack; but he did follow through, because others, interested in bidding, wanted to know the same information as I did. The coffee pot sold for a couple of bucks because of the damage. It was worth sixty dollars if it had been in pristine condition. The very next item that came up for auction, the helper did exactly the same, and the crowd, sensing there was something fishy going on, kept up questioning on condition, greatly annoying the auctioneer's game plan; which was simply stated, 'buyer beware.' You'd be surprised, how many bidders won't complain, or refuse to pay for their purchases, if they have been deceived by the auction helper and auctioneer, due to feeling embarrassed. There are bidders in this case, who would feel they were in error, for not having inspected the pieces before the auction began. By the way, there are occasions when items are damaged before they're auctioned-off, that passed muster earlier in the day; so the bidder is, in this case, not guilty of neglect, for not re-inspecting the merchandise. It is up to the auctioneer to offer a brief overview of item condition, as a service to his sale patrons. Most auctioneers, who have achieved veteran status in the profession, know the importance of pleasing an audience with fair play.
Here now is part two of the Dora Hood biography.
ON BEING THE SELLER OF OLD BOOKS AND THE ENCHANTMENT IT CREATES
ONCE BITTEN…….WATCH OUT…..MAYBE YOU WILL BECOME A BOOK DEALER
EVERY TIME I WALK INTO A SHOP THAT SELLS OLD BOOKS, I AM IMPRESSED IMMEDIATELY BY THE RICH, HISTORIC, WORLDLY AROMA OF SO MUCH BOUND AND PRINTED-UPON PAPER; POSSESSING THE AURA OF OLD WRITERS AND CENTURIES OF CONTENTED READERSHIP; SO MANY SHELVES OF HISTORY AND LITERATURE, FICTION AND NON-FICTION, NOVELS AND BIOGRAPHY, AND SO MUCH SOCIAL / CULTURAL FUEL FOR THE EAGER MIND TO FEED UPON. EVEN STANDING ALONE IN A BOOK SHOP, IT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO FEEL ISOLATED OR LONELY. I ALWAYS THINK OF CHRISTOPHER MORELY'S "HAUNTED BOOK SHOP," WHEN I VISIT THESE HAVENS OF GOOD READING. I HAD A SIGNED COPY OF "THE HAUNTED BOOK SHOP," BUT ALAS, THIS DASTARDLY SITUATION, OF A BOOKSELLER ACTUALLY HAVING TO SELL SOMETHING, IN ORDER TO SURVIVE. AH, THE TEMPTATION OF MONEY OVER POSSESSION.
I HAVE BEEN IN SOME WONDERFUL OLD BOOK SHOPS, SINCE I BEGAN SELLING BOOKS MYSELF, BACK IN THE LATE 1980'S. IT DIDN'T MATTER IF THE SHOP WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A TIGHT URBAN DOWNTOWN, IN A RUSHING-EVERYWHERE CITY, OR IN A SMALL TOWN, OR HAMLET, MAYBE EVEN OUT IN THE RURAL CLIMES, BECAUSE ONE STEP INSIDE THE DOOR, AND THERE CAME ALL THOSE FAMILIAR SENSORY PERCEPTIONS. THE VERY PROFOUND AND HAUNTING, "I'VE BEEN HERE BEFORE," SENSATIONS. WHETHER IT WAS URBAN OR RURAL, IT NEVER SEEMED TO MATTER. THEY WERE ALWAYS RUN BY HOSPITABLE, WELCOMING FOLKS, WHO FELT THEIR BOOKS WERE AN EXTENSION OF THEIR SOULS. THEY DIDN'T OFFER THIS AS A WELCOMING EXPLANATION, BUT YOU KNEW IT, AFTER ONLY A SHORT CHAT. IT WAS A REFLECTION IN THIER EYES, THAT THEY LOVED WHAT THEY WERE DOING IN LIFE. WORKING IN THESE SHOPS WAS NO EFFORT AT ALL. IT WAS THE "LIFESTYLE" SITUATION, I HAVE TRIED TO PORTRAY THROUGH THESE PRELIMINARY BLOGS ABOUT COLLECTORS AND THE ART OF COLLECTING. YOU WILL MAKE A TERRIBLE ANTIQUARIAN BOOK COLLECTOR IF YOU DON'T CHERISH BOOKS…..AND NOT JUST THE ONES YOU LIKE. I CAN HONESTLY SAY I HAVE NEVER BEEN IN AN OLD BOOK SHOP THAT I DIDN'T LIKE…..OR SPOKEN WITH ITS PROPRIETOR, AND FELT THEIR DEMEANOR TO BE COLD OR STANDOFFISH. THE PREVAILING ATMOSPHERE IS SCHOLARLY AND IT WAS THE SAME FEELING I GOT, WHENEVER I WENT INTO THE COMMUNITY LIBRARIES IN MUSKOKA, AND THE MASSIVE FACILITY AT YORK UNIVERSITY IN TORONTO, WHERE I STUDIED ENGLISH AND HISTORY. AS I HAVE BEEN SURROUNDED BY BOOKS, AND LOTS OF THEM, FOR MOST OF MY COLLECTING LIFE, I KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO FEEL AT HOME WITH "THE COLLECTION." I KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE TO SELL A BOOK, YOU'D RATHER NOT. SUZANNE HAS HAD TO PRY A LOT OF BOOKS OUT OF MY HANDS OVER THE YEARS, SUCH AS A PRISTINE FIRST EDITION, SIGNED COPY OF "BLUENOSE SKIPPER," SIGNED BY CAPTAIN ANGUS WALTERS. WE NEEDED MORTGAGE MONEY, AND THIS WAS A PRICEY BOOK. BUT IT'S BEEN THE SAME WITH ANTIQUES, FOR ME, AND I'VE HAD PANIC ATTACKS, SELLING OFF A FAVORITE BUFFET, OR FLAT-TO-THE-WALL, DESPITE THE FACT WE MADE A HANDSOME PROFIT. THERE ARE MANY READING THIS, WHO WON'T APPRECIATE FULLY, THAT ONE CAN ACTUALLY BECOME MORE ATTACHED TO A BOOK AFTER READING IT, THAN THE ANTICIPATION OF HAVING IT ON THE NIGHTSTAND…..AS A BOOK IN WAITING. I MUST HAVE READ "BLUENOSE SKIPPER," THREE TIMES BEFORE IT WAS SOLD, BUT THE BOOK HAD A LITTLE MAGIC ATTACHED, I CAN'T QUITE EXPLAIN. IT WAS LIKE HAVING CAPTAIN WALTERS READING ALONG WITH ME, TO POINT OUT THINGS I MIGHT HAVE MISSED DURING A PREVIOUS RUN-THROUGH.
I FEEL THE SAME ABOUT DORA HOOD'S FASCINATING BIOGRAPHY, "THE SIDE DOOR - TWENTY-SIX YEARS IN MY BOOK ROOM," PUBLISHED BY THE RYERSON PRESS, IN 1958. I WILL NOT SELL MY INSCRIBED AND SIGNED COPY. BUT I WILL SHARE SOME BOOK COLLECTING AND SELLING STORIES FROM WITHIN. IT IS A BOOK EVERY CANADIAN SHOULD BE FAMILIAR WITH, BECAUSE DORA HOOD WAS AS MUCH AN HISTORIAN AS BIBLIOPHILE. SHE CONSERVED A GREAT DEAL OF CANADIAN HISTORY, WITH HER ASTUTE HANDLING AND RESEARCH OF LARGE COLLECTIONS SHE HAD ACQUIRED. ITEMS OF NATIONAL IMPORTANCE WERE GIVEN GREAT AND PAINSTAKINGLY CAREFUL SCRUTINY, AND THE CONSERVATION ATTENTION, TO PRESERVE THEM FOR MANY GENERATIONS TO COME.
"THE SECONDHAND BOOK BUSINESS HAS A VERY LONG HISTORY AND HAS HAD SOME ADHERENTS WHO HAVE BECOME FAMOUS IN OTHER WAYS," WRITES FORMER TORONTO BOOKSELLER, DORA HOOD. "IT IS RECORDED THAT ALEXANDER CRUDEN 'MAINTAINED HIMSELF BY KEEPING A SECONDHAND BOOKSHOP,' WHILE HE COMPILED HIS MONUMENTAL WORK, THE FAMOUS 'CONCORDANCE OF THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENTS.' AT TIMES HE HAD PERIODS OF LUNACY, THOUGH WHETHER THIS WAS THE RESULT OF HIS STUDIES OR FROM WORRY OVER THE CONDITION OF HIS BOOKSHOP, HIS DOES NOT RELATE. HE DIED IN 1770 AND EVER SINCE HIS NAME HAS BEEN A HOUSEHOLD WORD, AN ACHIEVEMENT THE REST OF US HAVE NEVER ATTAINED.
"THERE HAVE BEEN MANY CHARMING ESSAYS AND BOOKS WRITTEN ABOUT BOOKSHOPS, REAL AND FICTIONAL, BUT THEY COME FOR THE MOST PART FROM ABLE PENS OF LITERARY BOOK BUYERS AND NOT FROM THE EVER GRUBBY AND HARDWORKING HANDS OF THE PROPRIETORS. 'HANDBOOKS,' THERE ARE WITHOUT NUMBER ON HOW TO CONDUCT MOST BUSINESS VENTURES, BUT I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF ONE ON HOW TO RUN A SECONDHAND BOOKSHOP. WE WHO DRIFT INTO THE TRADE DEVELOP OUR OWN HAPHAZARD WAYS AND WOULD, I THINK, FIND IT DIFFICULT TO FOLLOW RULES WE HAD NOT DEVELOPED OURSELVES. WHAT FOLLOWS, THEREFORE, MAY NOT APPLY TO OTHER BOOKSHOPS BUT IT IS THE INSIDE STORY OF HOW WE WORKED."
DORA HOOD NOTES OF THE PROFESSION SHE MARRIED, "IT TOOK ME YEARS TO WORK OUT A SYSTEM IN THE MANAGEMENT OF ROUTINE OFFICE WORK, WHILE WAYS OF BUYING AND SELLING AND WRITING CATALOGUES CAME ALMOST BY INSTINCT. WE HAD OUR DAYS OF JOYS AND SORROWS, OF TRIUMPHS AND HUMILIATIONS, OF EASE AND DRUDGERY AND THOUGH THE NET RESULT IN DOLLARS AND CENTS WAS MODEST, THE LIFE WAS SUCH A SATISFYING ONE THAT I NEVER DREAMED OF GIVING IT UP. AUGUSTINE BIRRELL, IN HIS PITHY WAY WROTE, 'NEVER CONVERT A TASTE INTO TRADE,' BUT I THINK HE WAS WRONG. I WOULD SAY YOU MUST HAVE A TASTE FOR BOOKS, OR YOU WOULD LOATHE THE TRADE."
KEEPING COMPANY WITH A BOOKSELLER
"Contrary to the general belief, we are a fairly honest lot. For instance, as we become more expert in our business, we actually pay more for the books we buy than we did as novices. Luck it seems is often with the beginner for when I was timid about every outlay I made on books, some wonderful bargains came my way. I have no qualms of conscience on this account, however, for had there been any rival buyer in the field, the books would not have become mine. As time went on I gradually built up a first hand knowledge of the value of a great number of books, both rare and commonplace; I could not in all honesty offer less than I knew they were worth to me. Most of us buy more books than we can handle, and lay out much more capital than we should. None of us grows rich! There is a vast difference between buying a few volumes and estimating the value of a large library. I grew to enjoy the latter, for it required skill and experience with the added possibility of something unusual turning up. As time went on, and especially after the 1939-45 War, I did not have so many unorganized collections offered me, such as the Jones and Heyden libraries, for by that time most of the loose collections of papers had been tidied up and unfortunately consigned to the paper drives. The only one of this kind that remained was the Coyne Collection, and that took me years to acquire although I had known of its existence for some time."
She writes, "More and more frequently I was called on to price and buy well selected libraries belonging to university professors, civil servants or wealthy businessmen. These books were usually arranged neatly on shelves in attractive libraries or in rather chilly basement playrooms, and the task was much simpler though not as exciting as ploughing through piles of miscellaneous books and papers. Gradually I devised a method of arriving at a price which developed into playing a little game with myself. I had in time become so familiar with the appearance of a vast number of Canadian books that without even reading their titles, I recognized them by the size, the color of their bindings and other features very much as we know the appearance of our friends without ticking off each feature. Therefore, when I came into a room full of books, I could take a general look at the collection and size up the trend of character of the library. After a few minutes' thought I would jot down on a piece of paper what I thought I should pay for it and put this away in my briefcase. Then I would go carefully over the whole collection, putting down in one column on my pad, the value of the highlights or really good books on each shelf and in another column, a covering price on what I called 'run of the mill,' books. These included those that turn up frequently and of which I had a good supply and the practically unsaleable others. Often this proved a thoroughly interesting operation, for when unfamiliar titles turned up, I had to spend some time going through them to decide on their value. Then came the final reckoning. The two columns would be added up, the good and the not so good, and putting them together I would arrive at the final price; and here is where the game came in. The original guess would be produced and the two prices compared. In nine cases I do not know how I did this and it amused and astonished me over and over again. Though the carefully detailed estimate was probably nearer the real value, I usually gave the seller whichever was higher."
So if you've ever wanted to know how book dealers operate in the heat of the moment, Dora Hood provides some valuable insights. "There is one difficult problem which every book dealer has to face. The owners of libraries, almost invariably, will not put a price on their books. Most of them want the dealer to do this, and, having got his expert advice, proceed with this as a basis for further bargaining with others. I do not think it occurs to them that this is somewhat unethical. The only method we can employ to offset this is tactfully to explain that the offer must be accepted or rejected at the time it is made and will not be renewed. Sometimes it is very difficult to be so dogmatic. Most bookish people are disarmingly nice and it is distressing to disrupt the friendship atmosphere. The best way is to take the seller into your confidence by explaining that you have many offers of books and must have an answer there and then lest you have too many unsettled offers. Fortunately, I was able gradually to build up a certain confidence in my business ways and my estimates were accepted among those who knew me. My advice to those who have libraries to sell, is to try one of three three following ways of going about it. !. Try to arrive at a price before you offer your books, keeping in mind that the dealer must make a profit and that he will have to dispose of the books one by one, while you are to get cash for all without further effort on your part. 2. Make a careful list of your books giving author, title, date and place of publication, and exact condition, being sure to find out if all plates and maps are present. Have several copies made and sent them simultaneously to the dealers in the community, asking them to quote a price on the lot. Then accept the best. It is not playing the game to withdraw books from the list after sending it out. 3. Go to a dealer you know and trust him if he offers to buy the entire library. This is much less trouble and will probably give you the best return."
She indicates, with considerable experience on her side, that "Booksellers are continually plagued by being asked to quote prices over the telephone. Often it is merely idle curiosity that prompts these calls and most bookmen refuse to give this information. Telephones, as we all know to our regret, are tremendous temptations to some people. I was frequently rung up after business hours by people who were comfortably at home and whose own offices were dark and silent. I remember once answering the telephone late at night to hear a cheery voice saying "We have just been having an argument about the value of the first edition of 'X'…..and someone said Dora Hood was sure to know, so we thought we would ring you up to see who was right.' My answer to this was 'That's very flattering, but what time is it at your house?' On several occasions I was asked to price books for probate, but did not particularly care for this work as the collections often contained quantities of miscellaneous books about which I could only guess. But once I was asked by the librarian of an important university as a business proposition, to put a price on a valuable collection of Canadiana. I was not told who had owned the books nor why a price was wanted. It was an interesting piece of work and required a good deal of research as many of the books were extremely rare. Again I applied my own technique of looking over the long list in a casual manner and jotting down an estimate. Then I went seriously to work on it, and as I did not know whether the books were to be sold or donated, I had to use my own judgement and decided to put on them the approximate current price. It took me several weeks to do the work in my spare time. Once again my estimated price and the final detailed amount were within hailing distance of each other, though a good many thousand dollars were involved. I learned later that the books had been left jointly to two heirs. The share of one was given as a gift to the library while the other heir demanded cash. What the final arrangement was I did not hear although I received a letter of appreciation from the librarian."
As a final note, Dora Hood offers an explanation about book pricing for retail consumption: "To end this account of the inner workings of the Book Room, I must attempt to answer the question I am often asked. How did you know what price to put on your books? It was necessary, in the first place, to learn the universal principle of supply and demand. To do this I studied the catalogues of reputable and well-established bookmen. I went to the reference library to look up auction reports but them only occasionally helpful. I became familiar with the background of the books I had to catalogue from my bibliographies and histories. This took time but once learned stood me in good stead. The current values of the books, for instance, of Champlain, Charlevoix, Heriot and Weld were not difficult to establish, but these were not everyday occurrences in the Book Room. The task became much more of a problem as the flood of later books increased and I was confronted with good books which apparently I had never before been offered. It was necessary then, I found, to develop an acute sense of the value of the content of each books; this and the cultivation of a retentive memory for everything I had ever read or heard about a book was, I believe, the most useful faculty I acquired. There is, of course, another factor not generally, I fear, taken seriously by the trade, summed up in the modern term 'overhead.' There is only one solution to this and that is to keep it so low that you are continually bumping your head and by so doing most of the work yourself. Probably in the end, we fall back on the ancient rule of trial and error. but looking back as a bookseller of long standing, I believe the crucial factor in successful pricing is to possess a deep and absorbing interest in one's vocation."
To my final breath in this mortal coil, I will be a bibliophile. I will buy books and then sell them. Not as much as I used to, when a little younger, but I could not have an antique shop assigned to my name, and have it void of some interesting books. At one time in my collecting life, I had about 40,000 books, and it has taken about twenty years, to whittle that number down to a manageable collection. I became obsessed with acquisition, but not so much, with selling proportionally, to what I was buying daily, weekly, monthly and annually. I was even resorting to sneaking boxes of books into our house, when Suzanne was at work, so she wouldn't yell at me for my excesses. I started changing my ways, when my old book hound friend, Dave Brown, commissioned me to do his biography. Dave didn't tell me at the time, he was seriously ill, and would likely never see the completed text. He was right. Dave passed away with 100,000 books stuffed into his small Hamilton bungalow. How bad was it? I'll bet you've never heard of load-bearing piles of books before. The handlers of the estate found this out, when they began taking the basement books out of the house, before lightening the load on the first floor. They nearly had a serious collapse. The piles of books, on shelves, were actually wedged at the top, against the floor joist of the upper level. Suzanne was my research assistant for the biography, which sold-out by the way, and it was after this, she put me on a reformation diet……no new books until the quantity was reduce by many thousands. Dave enlightened a lot of us, to the damnation of becoming a hoarder without knowing it. So now I buy only what I think I can sell quickly, and I have paid far more attention to the good advice from Dora Hood, than from what I found out about my old friend David Brown……a bibliomaniac by definition.
I will have more information from Dora Hood's book in my next blog. Thanks for spending some time with me, in the recollection of one of Canada's well known antiquarian booksellers. Please drop by again soon, for some more wild and wooly collector tales from her in the snowy woodlands of South Muskoka.
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