A Book Scrum For Muskoka Titles and A Mentoring From Dave Brown

A BOOK SCRUM AT JOHN LORD'S HOUSE FOR SOME INTERESTING CANADIANA

A BOOK HUNTER NEEDS TO BE SPOT-ON WITH SPINE IDENTIFICATION, IN THE EARLY GOING OF A SPECIAL SALE

     I was taught very early in my book hunting apprenticeship, with Miles David Brown, my book collector friend, from Hamilton, to memorize books on the shelves of local antique, second hand, and thrift shops. He suggested that I make it a project, to memorize book order as a sort of mindful hobby, in order that I would easily detect a new (old) book, being inserted into the leftover books from the last time I visited. This cut down my browsing time, because, after some training, and lots of patience, I could find several books that had been inserted into fifty or more texts jammed onto a shelf, or in a store bookcase. Instead of placing books at the end of each row, or at the beginning, for that matter, most clerks uninterested in books generally, but having to fulfill a job requirement, would jam new inventory onto the shelf, wherever there was an opening. The reason it was important to be able to identify a new book being added to the same-old-same-old, of stale inventory, was to get the jump on competitors who were more plodding about the hunt. If I happened to be in the book section of a thrift shop, for example, with two or three other book hounds (who showed up every day), I could spot an out-of-place book-spine, and quickly grab it off the shelf, just in case it was a good one. I was like Zorro, with his sword. I could reach over the shoulder, under the arm, around a beer belly, and brush a knee cap, to get a book off the shelf that interested me. One such find, taken from right in front of another local old book dealer, was a biography of the Canadian painter, James Wilson Morrice, with an introduction by Group of Seven Artist, A.Y. Jackson. When I opened it, I saw that it had been signed by Jackson, except it was in lower case letters, instead of the way the painter signed his art work. When I asked for assistance on this matter from an expert in Canadian art, I was told that Jackson used lower case when he was giving autographs and in his personal correspondence. I sold the book for sixty dollars two weeks later. Today, it would be more like a hundred.
     If you've heard the saying, "if you snooze, you lose," and believe it might have an element of truth attached, then welcome to the world of rare, antiquarian, old, and out-of-print book (and vintage paper) hunting, for fun but mostly investment profit. A missed opportunity, being a second or two late on the grab, could cost you a hundred dollar book, that you could have sold to a collector, within about five minutes of arriving back at your shop. If you weren't interested in quick money, flipping the found book, then it would still be a giant opportunity missed, if another dealer beat you to the single copy, that would have added significantly to the value of your, for example, Canadian railroad bibliography. If there is one rare copy and twenty collector / dealers hustling for it, when the sale doors open, you can pretty much imagine the energy expended, trying to find, on what particular shelf among many, it may be situated. I'm not going to suggest that fights can out regularly, between competitors chasing the same book(s), but Dave Brown knew, by first hand experience at many American book sales, that it was possible for fervor to cause the curl of a fist; and even necessitated the employment of side arms, on behalf of the more aggressive patrons, to guarantee there would be no poaching of their book piles at estate sales. Seems ridiculous to fight over a book, doesn't it? When these books are valued, in some cases, over a thousand dollars a pop, yup, things can get nasty real quick, when there are two collectors with their hands wrapped around the same book.
     If you collect anything at all, and have an appetite to upgrade your collection, by adding more pieces, then going to a special estate sale, for example, can set loose the "beast" of competition, you might not have known even existed under those conservative duds. You have to imagine this, and turn up the fervor, when, on top of the basic want list, there are items in the mix you wish to acquire, worth many hundreds (if not thousands) of dollars to the first person to grab it off the shelf. It can get pretty crazy, and I've shopped this way for antiques, books and for ephemera, and hated the experience. I had no choice because there were collectors, good customers of ours, counting on my prowess, to secure numerous pieces they knew would be at the sale. I was paid to get them before any of the other dealers hustling the same beat. There are things you have to know first, in order to make the long drive, the lengthy wait, and the scrum worthwhile. It can be pretty exciting overall, and if you know how to grab first, debate the item later, you might even be able to make some money at this old book hustle.
     I generally try to stay away from dealer-hosted book sales that are first come, first serve events. They can get pretty aggressive. I am softening my hunt and gather activities, from the old days, when I would gladly scrum with the best of them. I used to be a hockey goaltender, so I know how to clear the crease. But today I prefer to attend sales without my book hunting colleagues, who are still hip-checking and cane wielding, making space for themselves in front of the loaded books shelves. I suppose this is a clear sign that I'm older and wiser; I can get what I want without getting a misconduct penalty. Suzanne knows when I'm agitated, because like a junk yard dog, I start making a deep, growling noise, that is a sort of unintentional warning to those horning-in on my territory of shelf space. Honestly, I don't know that I'm doing it audibly. I most definitely know I am making this sound, but it wasn't until Suzanne told me she could hear it, from several feet away, that I realized it was the result of the rigors of competition. I used to do the same thing, but with quite an array of profanities attached, when an opposition forward got his skate inside my goal crease, which was usually followed by a crack on the shoulders from my blocker glove, or my goal-stick, whacking at his ankles. I guess growling had its origin in my sporting days, letting me know, that as far as competition goes, I'm still a netminder in spirit.
     A book-seller friend of ours, John Lord, of Stouffville, Ontario, (I used to love getting his frequent book catalogues), had a great shop on the mainstreet of town, that we used to visit quite frequently back in the mid 1990's, when I was aggressively pursuing Muskoka related books, for five or so customers of ours, who were building complete regional libraries of local histories. He used to have highly successful half-price events, and it was always worth a trip down to see John, and his shop offered some incredible opportunities in antiquarian and rare books. He had acquired a major collection of Canadiana, and decided to run a special sale at his Stouffville house, which would start, I believe, at eleven in the morning. Which was good for us, because of the drive down from Gravenhurst. We met John at about twenty minutes to eleven, and I counted about twenty-five others, all being book and old paper dealers and collectors, having way more experience than me. I had a secret weapon however, and it was the mentorship of Dave Brown, who knew Mr. Lord back in those days. The summer before, visiting Birch Hollow for the weekend, Dave gave Suzanne and I a lengthy, detailed tutorial, on how to beat the best of the lot, by employing some of his finely honed tactics. Suzanne and I would have to work as a team, taking turns as spotter, and then, the front line picker, who had to "dance like a butterfly and sting like a bee," (boxer, Cassius Clay) would have to, with lightening speed, pull out the titles pointed out to them; if they didn't see them first.
     Dave taught us how to scan book shelves quickly, to detect dustjackets and spines, we recognized, of what we knew as "money" books. Seeing as we had lots of orders for rare and out-of-print Muskoka books, for customers at home, in Gravenhurst, Dave told us to focus on what was most important for us to acquire; so that we wouldn't waste time and effort, looking at the Canadiana collection generally, which at that time, wasn't our mainstay, and would require us to spend unnecessary amounts of time, reading through the texts to get a measure of what they were all about. He suggested that we drill ourselves on what the important Muskoka books look like, lined-up on a shelf, when only the spines are visible. When you have twenty-five dealers hustling through the dining and living room of a small house, looking for these "money" books, you can't afford misadventure or delays, including pulling the wrong books off the shelf because of mistaken identity. In the time it took you to do this, you might have lost three or four others on the shelf, immediately to the left, when a competing book seller / collector, connected with a nice hook grab stretched above your arm. I can remember, on the occasion of that sale, at the kindly Mr. Lord's abode, having very little room to navigate in the section he had set out for regional Canadian histories. We were able to identify it quickly, which isn't all that easy, and within two minutes, Suzanne and I had monopolized the section with regional Ontario books and old paper. With a few hip-checks to our competitors, we had about ten minutes to strip-mine that section of the Muskoka books we had buyers for, plus a few others we bought on speculation. There was one other Muskoka book buyer present, but we had gnawed the kernels off the proverbial cob, before he figured out that he had started in the wrong area, and gone the opposite way, to where we had focused immediately, once let through the door of the house.
     As for the other titles of Canadiana, well, we had to take a pass on those, despite being tempted by many in John's collection that day. We were operating on a pretty tight budget back then. We learned a lot from Dave Brown, and it paid off, especially with Canadiana sales that attract a lot of dealers, collectors and historians. In fact, it was the last time I saw my historian friend, Ed Phelps, a long time associate of paper sleuth, Hugh MacMillan. Ed had got the books he wanted, as fast as we did, and was sitting in John's living room, basking in his successes for the morning sale. Dave Brown had died a short time before this sale, but he was with us in spirit, that's for sure. He knew Ed and Hugh, and according to his version of past sales, where they had all been competing, he always got the better deals on the best books of the event. Dave believed this and whether it was true or not, it was the bulk of his ego, to be positive about such milestones of competition. But a lot of book sellers and collectors share this belief in their capabilities, and have many stories to share about their memorable adventures, in the unending quest for the holy grail.
     John Lord, who is still selling old books in Stouffville and area, was a good host that day, and the environs were quite comfortable for the competitors jammed inside, trying to best each other with found treasure. But make no mistake, when you get a couple of dozen stalwart book hunters in a small space, there will be some body contact, tripping, elbowing and of course, the greatly feared hip check, that I learned from former Maple Leaf defenceman Bucko MacDonald, my former hockey coach in Bracebridge.
     Competition for old books and vintage paper is huge, and the stakes are high; earnings can be substantial if you land the right "big fish," so it should be expected, these special sales are not for the faint hearted, or complacent of spirits.
     When historian, collector, Ed Phelps spotted me at the sale, I heard him whisper to another dealer, that I was Dave Brown's protege. Geez I felt good about that comment, because Dave was a hell of a teacher, and in the field of old books, he only had two students, ever, and they were the Curries. Dave hated losing, so on this day, he would have been proud of our efforts.
     Dave had died a short time before the sale, and I had already begun writing his biography, that he had requested me to author on his behalf, a month before he told me he had a fatal disorder of the blood. I was glad to write the book, just terribly sorry he wasn't alive to partner with me on what was truly a remarkable story, about a very unique individual. Suzanne and I both had a chance to see Dave before and after major book sales, and following big finds, and some big misses, and it was on those occasions, that we saw the emotional side of being either a successful collector, one day, or one who has failed at their mission, the very next outing. Dave wasn't driven by the monetary value of old books. He understood the value, but he wasn't in the habit of cashing in his treasures. That was left for the executors following his death, to realize, when his cherished collection was auctioned off.