INTRODUCTION TO THE "YEAR OF THE BOOK" AT BIRCH HOLLOW ANTIQUES -
THE HAUNTING AURA OF OLD BOOKS; AND THE WILD AND WOOLY ADVENTURES TO ACQUIRE THEM - YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE WHAT LENGTHS COLLECTORS AND DEALERS WILL GO TO - IN ORDER TO HAVE THE COMPANY OF A VALUABLE AND EVASIVE RARE BOOK - WEARING A SIDEARM AS A PERSUADER
I have always liked books. I only had a dozen as a kid, but they got me through a lot of childhood illnesses; I re-read them many times, laying in bed with an old work sock around my neck, concealing the slathering of vicks vapo rub on my chest and neck. The stories in those books were escapism and they worked perfectly. I loved television, radio and the wonky phonograph but nothing could take the place of my small book collection. This must be understand before anything else in the series on old books will make any sense. I couldn't have become either a book collector or dealer, without first loving the content of books. What moved me most of all, was that I could buy books and sell them to like minded individuals, who very much desired the stories and information within. Not only was I hustling-up books I liked, and wanted to own, I was getting paid to hunt, because of the books I was able to sell in our antique shop, and later, online. There's considerable happiness being associated with books, and for me, the older the better. My favorite movie is "84 Charing Cross Road," about the exchanges between the British antiquarian book shop, and an American writer. My favorite book is "The Haunted Bookshop," by Christopher Morley, who also, by the way, wrote another story about books, with his "Parnassus on Wheels," which was the folk story of a travelling book seller, who took his inventory house to house in a horse drawn wagon. I confess, however, that at times in my life, for whatever reason, I have loved books a little too much and it has compromised the way we have lived. Imagine five thousand books stacked in a room of your house. I had many rooms to work with, and I hit about 30,000. which I thought was pretty moderate, considering my mentor, Dave Brown, had 100,000 stored in his house. Suzanne drew a line on the carpet, and suggested that passing it, with an arm full of books, to store in this open space, would mean the time had come to discuss the future of our marriage. I knew when to quit. Dave Brown didn't. Let me explain what loving books too much can mean to an otherwise ordinary, sensible existence.
A fellow antique associate, who I knew as being a tad on the snarly side, even when he was in a good mood, who apparently didn't care for my "take no prisoners" attitude, at an auction, where I was buying many boxes of old books, referred to me with the salt spray of the north wind, as "you crusty old sea dog - you privateer son of a bitch." Now, if I had my hockey equipment on, (it still fits) and there was a puck in play, I would have had this guy's sweater over his head, doing the great hockey ice-dance that makes the crowd stand and cheer. The hustle of the antique and collectable trade parallels, in many way, with the competition I knew as a youngster on the ice hockey pad. It's how I grew up, and it's what my old hockey coach, Donny Thur, most famous these days for his near iconic burl bowls, taught me about winning at all costs. He wasn't kidding about that, and well, we had a winning team as a result. I'm not saying Don made me a wild and crazy antique hustler, but when I elbow a competitor in the throat, or cross check them into the shelves of bric-a-brac, you can blame him for shaping my young mind, to be ruthless for the cause of ultimate victory. I know he reads these pieces, so I'm just toying with him. Most of the time he coached us, he had his head in his hands, moaning about the other things he could have been doing that day.
Suzanne had to clarify, as my interpreter, standing behind, that he had just called me a freelance pirate, meaning, I was doing something of a pirate's crime by purchasing all these boxes of books. Low and behold, he had been a back bidder on several of the boxes, where there were books he had wished for his own collection. Well, he didn't get those books, even when he tried to convince me that I didn't need all the texts in twenty overflowing boxes. Book collectors and dealers are a rather unique lot, even over and above the eccentricities of antique collectors and dealers (strange folks), compounding the intensity by which we pursue our objectives. We must, for our well being, have the focus of a triple crown racehorse, because if we didn't, we would make serious mistakes with our purchases, and I have to tell you now, that an error in judgement can cost a fortune; buying books we shouldn't have because we got distracted by the big mouths at an auction, or estate sale. Even the competition between book collectors can be a thunderous clash of the titans, and I've been in the middle of many of these war of the minds; and I have always backed away, because one of the combatants was usually my mentor, Dave Brown. If I was to continue being mentored, the rule was simple; be a spectator and learn all you can, about the determination of bibliophiles to get what they want of any transaction.
How can competition for an old and collectable book become so wild and crazy, such that a sidearm would have to be employed for insurance against other over-zealous collectors. Well, there are books worth many thousands of dollars, and this can lead to some possessive behavior, akin to miners of gold protecting their stake. A signed and inscribed first edition, or an associate copy, that was given to another author, by an equally famous writer, could be worth a king's ransom if the writer happened to be world revered, such as Charles Dickens or Washington Irving. So instead of panning or digging for gold, or being privateers, looking to board another ship to steal its precious cargo, we "book hounds" scour the seven seas, and the land in between, for big finds in old and rare books. Sometimes we even slip into bibliomania, and then watch out!
I have never met a book collector who was without the tell-tale characteristics of minor to major obsession. There is a slippery slope between the status of bibliophile into the fold of bibliomania, and my old friend Dave Brown had crossed over early in life to the mania part of collecting. I was given the task of writing his biography, because I was a collector of books myself, and even as I was writing the text, after his death, I knew that I was starting to love the association with books more than my family. Dave's wife Barbara was a casualty of his passion for books, and lots of them, and she left him partly as a result. I was beginning to worry less about the compromises to Suzanne and our boys, as far as open space in the house, and had actually resorted to sneaking boxes of books into the house, when Suzanne was at work and the boys at school. I wrote the biography of a bibliomaniac while I was a hair's breadth away from the same unsettling status. I caught myself in time. Or rather, Suzanne reminded me how appropriate it would be, if I recognized that I was entombing her and our sons (a visual would suffice), while engaging in my profession, that seemed much less sociable and non-intrusive in her opinion, than it had begun a few years earlier. She wasn't wrong, because there were far more books in the stacks I wasn't prepared to sell, (beginning of the hoarder stage of collecting) and seeing as I could only read so many books in a year, something had to give, with my obsessive attitude to own every book that had ever been written.
A half dozen years ago I got fed-up with my old books. I got rid of more than half of them, at deep discount prices, because I was getting frustrated by the downturn of sales, and the shortage of space at Birch Hollow, our ranch bungalow on the edge of The Bog, here in South Muskoka. In the antique profession, this happens now and again, (I really mean a lot of times in a career) and after a thorough cleansing of the mind, and in my case, the book shelves, other changes and influences took over temporarily. I started chasing art work, until I filled our house and shop. With the stars aligning, and a new interest becoming all consuming again, I found myself hustling the same as before. Just not books. Or at least with the same fervor. I have never turned down a good book find. With art and paper heritage, the oomph was even bigger than I had experienced with bibliomania. Was I crazy? I was also quite profitable with this rekindling of enthusiasm, for a return to a storefront (which I said I would never do) here in Gravenhurst. Sometimes I return to old habits with double the gusto. For me, this time, I was reluctant to immerse myself back to the way I was, especially with books, because the excesses had become a burden on our existence at home. I had many thousands of books, and half of them didn't even have a book shelf to call home base; relying instead on the floor as a platform for stacking. At one time, Suzanne's bedroom would have housed three thousand books easily, along with seven boxes of old paper. She knows the value of books so it wasn't the case she didn't support the fact we had so many books; but hated the fact they weren't on proper shelving. Enter Dave Brown, outdoor educator, book hoarder (bibliomaniac).
Dave Brown, who you will read about in this newly revised series of blogs, had 100,000 books jammed into his Hamilton house at the time of his death. It may have been the first case in the study of books and their collectors, of finding that Mr. Brown had gone to the extent, of making his stacks of books, load bearing walls. The executors of his estate only found this out when they tried taking the books out of the basement, before decreasing the weight on the first floor. When the timbers started to creak and then crack, it was time to stop and look up, before the first floor met the basement with a thundering crash.
Dave used to stay at Birch Hollow when he was travelling in the area, possibly staying at a friend's cottage on Clear Lake, or paddling somewhere in Haliburton, or Algonquin Park; and then with a hustler's intuition, getting the idea Suzanne may have been cooking-up one of her famous roast beef dinners, deciding to stop-in for a weekend of "book talk." I'll share some of those stories later in the series.
Dave had acquired, with an unnamed partner, dozens of industrial grade metal shelving, from an old warehouse, that he wanted to sell or trade me. We never got to the transaction phase of the deal. I found out he had been turned down by several other book dealers we knew, because the weight of the massive shelves, plus the load of the heavy books, would have been too much for the floor joist of these old book shop buildings. When he showed me pictures of the units, while we were standing in our recreation room, he was, you see, trying to point out, how much better looking these shelves would look, versus the stacks and wooden pieces I was using at that moment, to keep my books safe and organized. Suzanne would have booted my sorry keister out of the house, if I had ever agreed to take even one of those giant shelves. I knew I was on thin ice with my excesses anyway, so I just advised Dave that, in order I not be forced to live with him, in his Hamilton House, as a new bachelor, I was going to have to agree with my wife this time, that the shelves were simply too intrusive to consider. Dave was ticked-off because of this, and said he had to head back home immediately; (he used to have these snits regularly when he didn't get his way) until that is, he opened the recreation door to the front yard, and the draft brought him the aroma of sizzling bacon and eggs, that Suzanne had been whipping up for breakfast. By the way, Dave would never have used those bookshelves himself, and he wouldn't have been able to erect even one, with his house already jammed to the rafters with old books.
I remember as I finished up Dave's biography, sitting at my desk in the same recreation room where he used to sleep on his visits to Birch Hollow, acknowledging that he was most definitely a bibliomaniac. He had nearly suffocated himself in books. He was a retired teacher and had enough money to afford a better, more accommodating facility for his books, but he was to set in his ways, and eccentric in his beliefs, to ever move out of his sanctuary. He had the money to get his teeth looked after, because they were rotting in his mouth, and may have contributed to the disease of the blood that eventually claimed his life. He refused to eat vegetables other than potatoes, although he would eat lettuce if Suzanne served it to him, and it appeared she would have hurt feelings if he didn't make an effort. When it came to old books, he had the focus of Superman. Everything else was minimized in order to maintain that intense examination, of what made him happy. It was his bibliomania that ruled his life, and there was nothing any one could do, no matter how close they were to the man, in friendship, to make him realize his obsession was also his ruination.
It will take some time to explain this all more sensibly, and what it means to a recovering bibliophile, who has once again, entered the ring as a book seller in my elder years of antique and collectable sales. Please join me in the coming weeks, for an examination of what makes book collecting, buying and selling so infectious, and profitable if performed with the utmost respect for due diligence; getting the best for the least.
ANTIQUE APPRAISAL EVENTS AND PRICE GUIDES ARE USEFUL - NOT THE END-ALL
ANTIQUE GUIDE BOOKS AND ONLINE ESTIMATES FOR PARALLEL ITEMS, MISLEADING AND UNRELIABLE
JUST A SHORT INTRODUCTORY NOTE ABOUT ANTIQUE APPRAISAL EVENTS. I AGREED TO DO AN APPRAISAL GIG, SEVERAL YEARS AGO, TO OFFER ADVICE ON OLD BOOKS, AND ANDREW PROVIDED VALUATIONS FOR OLD GUITARS, IN SUPPORT OF A LOCAL FUNDRAISING EFFORT. I REALIZED AS THE EVENT GOT UNDERWAY, THAT THE PEOPLE WHO HAD PAID FOR APPRAISALS, WERE GENERALLY LOOKING TO SELL THE ITEMS THEY HAD BROUGHT TO THE EVENT. I THINK THIS HAPPENS A LOT BUT THERE'S A REAL PROBLEM WITH THIS OCCURRENCE. WHEN YOU SUGGEST "AT AUCTION," WHEN YOU PRESENT AN APPRAISAL, THE APPRAISER ISN'T REFERRING TO A REGIONAL AUCTION. THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT A MUCH HIGHER LEVEL OF AUCTION, THAN WE HAVE SEASONALLY, OCCURRING IN OUR REGION OF ONTARIO. AND WHEN YOU DECIDED TO TURN TO A LARGER AUCTION ENTERPRISE, TO HAVE THE PIECES OFFERED FOR SALE, WELL, IT'S AT THEIR DISCRETION, NOT YOURS. I IMAGINE QUITE A FEW PEOPLE HAVE BEEN DISAPPOINTED TO FIND OUT, THAT TO GET ANY MONEY FROM THEIR ITEMS, THEY HAVE TO CONTACT A MAJOR CITY, NATIONAL, OR INTERNATIONAL AUCTION HOUSE, IN ORDER TO HAVE THEIR ART OR ANTIQUE PIECES REVIEWED BY EXPERTS AS A FIRST STEP. THIS WILL REQUIRE SOME MOTORING BACK AND FORTH, PLUS THE EXPENSE THIS INVOLVES, AND IT'S STILL POSSIBLE THEY (AUCTION HOUSE) WON'T TAKE THE ITEM(S) FOR SALE.
IT ALL COMES WITH A LOT OF "IFS" AND DO THE EXPERTS AT THESE SMALL COMMUNITY APPRAISAL EVENTS, NOTE, AS A SIDEBAR, THAT IF THE ITEM IS ACCEPTED FOR AUCTION, AT A MAJOR AUCTION HOUSE, IN THE FIRST PLACE, WHAT PERCENTAGE IS REQUIRED AS PAYMENT, ON SUCCESSFUL COMPLETION OF THE SALE. A LOT OF FOLKS DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IS MEANT BY "AT AUCTION," SOME BELIEVING IT IS MUCH EASIER TO ACCESS THAN IT REALLY IS. AS FOR A COUNTRY AUCTION, NOT MUCH IS TRACKED AT THESE SALES, IN TERMS OF MILESTONES ATTAINED FOR PINE BENCHES AND FLAT-TO-THE-WALL PINE CUPBOARDS. LARGE AUCTION HOUSES OF COURSE ARE IMPORTANT FOR THIS INFORMATION, AS WITH ART FOR EXAMPLE, ESTABLISHING NEW VALUATIONS WATCHED BY THE ANTIQUE TRADE, MUSEUMS, GALLERIES, AND I'M SURE INSURANCE COMPANIES, THAT NEED TO KNOW UP-TO-DATE SALE RESULTS.
I HAD ALL BUT ONE OF MY VISITORS, THAT DAY, ASK FOR THE VALUATION, FOLLOWED BY, "AND YES, I WOULD LIKE TO SELL IT FOR THAT AMOUNT." THE EVENTS SET THIS UP, AND IN MY MIND IT CREATED AN UNCOMFORTABLE CLIMATE IN THE HALL. FIRST OF ALL, WHAT IF I HAD OFFERED A RIDICULOUSLY LOW APPRAISAL, SUSPECTING THE CLIENT MAY HAVE WANTED TO SELL ME THE ITEM? THERE WERE NO SAFEGUARDS, NOT RULES ABOUT THIS POTENTIAL CONFLICT SITUATION. THEN WHEN I DID GIVE MY APPRAISALS, THEY ASSUMED WRONGLY, THAT THIS WAS THE PRICE AN ANTIQUE AND RARE BOOK DEALER WOULD PAY TO ACQUIRE THE PIECE. I HATED THE FACT I HAD TO TELL EACH OF THEM, THE RULES OF RETAIL SALES. I COULDN'T BUY FOR THE APPRAISED AMOUNT. MARK-UP IS AT THE HEART OF IT ALL. NO MARK-UP, NO PROFIT, NO ANTIQUE BUSINESS. AT MOST, I COULD ONLY PAY FROM A QUARTER TO A THIRD OF THE APPRAISED VALUE…..NOT BECAUSE I'M CHEAP OR MEAN. IT'S JUST THE WAY IT IS. WHILE ANTIQUE DEALERS READING THIS MIGHT HUFF AND PUFF, AND DISAGREE, THEY MUST THEN GET UP, LOOK IN A MIRROR, AND BE HONEST WITH THEMSELVES ABOUT THE PERCENTAGE OF MARK-UP THEY APPLY TO FOUND PIECES OUT ON THE HUSTINGS. WHILE IT'S ALL ABOVE BOARD, AND THE MORE RESOURCEFUL YOU ARE AS A DEALER, AND THE LOWER YOU CAN ACQUIRE PIECES, THE BETTER THE PROFIT MARGIN. IT'S JUST OLD FASHIONED RESOURCEFULNESS. IT'S DONE IN MOST PROFITABLE BUSINESSES. THERE IS HOWEVER, A ROUGH EDGE TO IT ALL, WHEN YOU HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS TO SOMEONE WHO THINKS THEY'VE HIT THE JACK-POT, AND CAN THEN GO OUT AND AFFORD THOSE BRACES FOR THEIR CHILDREN. I'VE SEEN A LOT OF HAPPY FACES TURN UPSIDE DOWN, WHEN THE ACTUAL PURCHASE PRICE IS DISCUSSED.
I WOULD NEVER PARTICIPATE AGAIN, AT ANY SIMILAR APPRAISAL EVENT, NO MATTER WHAT THE CHARITY, BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO BE IN THAT POSITION, WITH FOLKS WHO ARE HOPEFUL OF A MAJOR FIND, WHO INITIALLY GET A POSITIVE RESULT, BUT THEN THE PIE-IN-THE-SKY COMES CRASHING TO EARTH, WHEN THE DETAILS OF SALES, AND AUCTIONS ARE MORE CLEARLY EXPLAINED…..ALMOST AS AN AFTER-THOUGHT.
I'M ALSO VERY TIRED FINDING ANTIQUE SHOPS, THAT HAVE ONLINE AUCTION PRINT-OUTS ATTACHED, OR DESCRIPTIONS WITH PRICES, TAKEN FROM BOOK COLLECTIVES, ALSO FOUND ONLINE. THESE VENDORS, AND SOME INDIVIDUALS WHO HAVE DONE LESS THAN ADEQUATE RESEARCH, WILL VALUE THEIR PARALLEL ITEM, IGNORING SOME PRETTY BASIC FACTS OF THE BUSINESS. AS FOR ONLINE BOOK PRICES, TRUTH IS, MANY DEALERS WHO DON'T HAVE A CLUE ABOUT OLD BOOKS AND THEIR APPRAISALS, WILL STUFF ONE OF THESE PRINTOUTS IN THE BOOK, FROM THE HIGHEST (NOT LOWEST) APPRAISAL THEY FIND. THEY NEGLECT TO CONSIDER CONDITION, WHETHER OR NOT IT HAS ITS ORIGINAL DUSTJACKET, OR IS EVEN A STATED FIRST EDITION AS TYPICALLY CLAIMED. IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY, AND IT'S WHY THOUSANDS OF THESE BOOKS ARE NEVER, EVER PURCHASED……BECAUSE THE ONLY ONES WHO WOULD CONSIDER DOING SO…..WELL, THEY KNOW EXACTLY HOW TO APPRAISE THEM, ACCORDING TO ALL THE BOOK STANDARDS. THEY DON'T NEED A SLIP OF PAPER TO TELL THEM ANYTHING. JOHN OR JANE Q. CITIZEN, IS NOT GOING TO PAY $200 FOR A BOOK UNLESS THERE'S SOME PERSONAL, AND COMPELLING DESIRE, OTHER THAN VALUE, TO MAKE THE ACQUISITION. FOR A BOOK DEALER OR COLLECTOR, IT MUST BE PRICED MUCH, MUCH LOWER THAN ITS APPRAISAL, AND MEET ALL THE CRITERIA OF CONDITION, ATTACHED TO THE VALUATION. IN OTHER WORDS, MOST FOLKS ARE SIMPLY GOING TO CLOSE UP THE BOOK, WITH THE PAPER INSIDE, AND MOVE ON TO ENJOY THE REST OF THE DAY.
ADDITIONALLY, IT IS VERY COMMON TO HAVE VENDORS RELY ON ONLINE AUCTION LISTINGS, THEY PRINT OUT, AS THE SUPPOSED VALIDATION AND AUTHENTICATION, WHEN IN FACT, THIS IS JUST TOO FLIMSY AND LOOSE-ENDED, TO EVER BE CONSIDERED ANYTHING MORE THAN A BALL-PARK APPRAISAL FOR REFERENCE…..NOT FOR MARKING A PRICE STICKER. AS A LONG-TIME ONLINE AUCTION SELLER, BELIEVE ME, THE BIDDERS SET THE PRICE…..AND IF THEY DON'T LIKE MINE…..I HAVE A CHOICE OF RE-LISTING FOR A LESSER PRICE. MANY FOLKS WHO HAVE HAD UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS, ABOUT ANTIQUE AND COLLECTIBLE VALUATIONS, ARE USUALLY CRUSHED BY THE REALITY THEIR ITEMS CRASHED AND BURNED. THERE ARE EXCEPTIONS, AND I'VE HAD THEM, BUT ON EACH OCCASION, THE MARKET…..THE BIDDERS….YOUR AUDIENCE, HAS DECIDED WHAT YOUR ITEM IS WORTH. EVEN IN THE CASE OF ON-LINE STORES, THE AUDIENCE EITHER APPROVES OR DISAPPROVES OF THE PRICE, AND THE CYCLE OF SALES CAN END BEFORE IT STARTS.
I'VE HAD MANY PEOPLE PHONE ME, OR ASK ME WHEN WE MEET IN GROCERY STORE AISLES, FOR IMPROMPTU, SIGHT UNSEEN, APPRAISALS. I DON'T DO THIS EVER. GENERALLY SPEAKING, I DON'T DO APPRAISALS EXCEPT IN THE CASE OF ESTATES THAT WE HAPPEN TO BE BIDDING ON AS A BUSINESS. I DON'T BUY SINGLE PIECES AS A RULE. IT DOESN'T MEAN I WON'T OFFER ADVICE ON WHERE TO LOOK FOR INFORMATION, WHAT TO PAY ATTENTION TO, AND POSSIBLY EVEN WHO THEY CAN APPROACH, FOR RESEARCH PARALLELS. IF I DIDN'T SET THIS AS A RULE OF CONDUCT, I MIGHT NEVER ENJOY A MOMENT, TO HAVE A WEE PINT OF ALE, OR WRITE BLOGS LIKE THIS. THAT'S HOW BUSY IT CAN GET, BELIEVE ME. IF I'VE APPRAISED "GONE WITH THE WIND," ONCE….WELL, AS THEY SAY, IT'S BEEN A TRILLION TIMES. I'VE NEVER BEEN PRESENTED, EVEN FOR SHOW, A FIRST EDITION YET. THAT DOESN'T STOP THEM FROM BRINGING 24TH, AND 37TH EDITIONS TO ME…….BELIEVING THEM TO BE GENUINE "FIRST" PRINTINGS.
BACK TO DAVE BROWN
I REMEMBER ON THREE OCCASIONS, ON ONE OF DAVE BROWN'S VISITS TO BIRCH HOLLOW, WHEN HE TOTALLY IGNORED ME, AS I ENTHUSIASTICALLY REFERENCED A NEW PRICE GUIDE, I'D JUST PURCHASED, ON THE SUBJECT OF OLD BOOKS. I'D ONLY RECENTLY PURCHASED MY FIRST PRICE GUIDE FOR ANTIQUARIAN, RARE AND OUT OF PRINT BOOKS. DAVE WAS ONE OF ONLY A FEW OLD BOOK COLLECTORS I KNEW, AND AS I WANTED TO TALK INTELLIGENTLY ABOUT MY RECENT ACQUISITIONS, IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA TO SHELL OUT THIRTY BUCKS FOR THE NEWEST, MOST UP-TO-DATE GUIDE, ON OLD BOOK VALUATIONS.
"TED, I DON'T CARE HOW MANY TIMES YOU SHOVE THAT PRICE GUIDE IN MY FACE, IT DOESN'T MATTER," DAVE INTERRUPTED. "I DON'T USE PRICE GUIDES, BECAUSE I DON'T BUY BECAUSE OF MONEY, OR INVESTMENT. I BUY BOOKS I LIKE. END OF STORY." SO FEELING VERY MUCH A TOOL, AND NOW WAY OUT OF MY ELEMENT, I TUCKED THE BOOK UNDER MY ARM, AND DID WHAT GENERATIONS OF MY FAMILY HAVE BEEN DOING, SINCE DAYS YELLING AT ONE ANOTHER IN THE PASTURES OF THE OLD COUNTRY. I ARGUED VEHEMENTLY ABOUT THE USEFULNESS OF GUIDEBOOKS ON ALL KINDS OF OLD STUFF. WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO? SUZANNE WAS WATCHING THIS UNFOLD, AND SHE HAD OBJECTED TO THE PRICE OF THE BOOK TO BEGIN WITH.
"It's okay to have price guides if you're in this business," Dave directed to Suzanne, who was just then preparing his lunch. So I thought, oh that's great Dave, soft-peddling to get an extra pickle on your plate, and demeaning the rookie book collector……who also has to live here when you leave. "I told you so, I told you so," she'll repeat for a week. "If you are going to profit from buying and selling old books, Ted, you need a lot more knowledge and experience in the trade, than you're going to get from a price guide, or a dozen of them. Knowing what goes on in old book shops is a good start. I haunt them all the time." Of course he was right, but thirty bucks down the drain hurt my feelings. I was cheaper than Dave when it came to buying books.
I knew what he meant. I know it better today, because since that time, I've had a lot more time to investigate the values of old books, and the ones that look like they've got potential, but are actually worthless….or close to being of no value. What he meant, was that he was a collector of non-fiction history and natural history, as well as some others scientific texts that were in his specific areas of study and interest, regardless of the values. For example, he was particularly interested in non-fiction, real (up close and personal) encounters of authors profiling the whale hunt as it existed hundreds of years ago. He wasn't looking for newer books on the subject, but rather ones that were from the time period of the 1700's to mid 1800's. He would buy books about recent explorations from that same period, where new lands were opened up, natural discoveries being made and documented in text form. These were valuable books. Here's the thing. Dave, one of the provinces best known outdoor educators, did have knowledge of book values, in his area of expertise, but much was done by barter and less by cash payments for titles he desired better than most dealers, because he comparison shopped. He was a horse trader, like Will Rogers, without the horse. This is why he could say, with honesty, he didn't worry about book values as such, or need a price guide. Dave, by immersion in the industry, knew book prices. Believe me. But he had a way of circumnavigating everything, by being a smooth talker, congenial when it was needed, and always willing to make a lucrative deal, based on the tradition of what he wanted to dump, in return for what he fancied. I got sucked into a lot of old book trades, let me tell you. So I did what I had to do. Bartered meals and lodging, so I hope to God, Suzanne doesn't read this…..or I'm going to be living on the porch for the balance of the winter.
Dave Brown passed away, in the late 1990's, having amassed about 100,000 books, stuffed into his Hamilton bungalow. It was a valuable collection. It took a behemoth effort for the executors to handle the estate. McMaster University benefitted from Dave's benevolence, as quite a few histories were donated to their archives. Book and old paper dealers from around the province, benefitted from the dispersal which took a giant two day auction, to clear it all out. Some of those books had been mine. Outsmarted by the chairman of the board. That was Dave to a "T". You know, he was a fantastic tutor, because his rule was tough-love. He bestowed a huge volume of information on both Suzanne and I, and in exchange for dinner, hot drink, a little wine, and a bed in my downstairs archives, we had full evenings of antique talks. Stories about Dave's many adventures in the old book trade, amongst many other collectible interests. He was a huge fan of the logging industry in Canada, and had many artifacts stored in his humble book-laden home. I wrote Dave's biography back in 2000, but a lot of stories didn't make the small collection, aimed largely at his collector friends and teaching colleagues. There are many more instructional, humorous stories about Dave's experiences, in books and antiques, that didn't make the book, which I'd like to share with blog readers. Some of the stories seem pretty far-fetched, except if you knew the name Dave Brown. There was nothing ordinary about the man, or his noe legendary exploits as a collector. They are stories that helped us, as young, impressionable collector / dealers, and may be for you as well……..pondering just how crazy and wickedly competitive the antique trade can become, even in what appear ordinary circumstances. Over quite a few years, our summer nights were always more interesting, when his familiar red truck, with yellow canoe banded to the top, pulled into the lane at Birch Hollow. Dave may have been on the way to an Algonquin adventure, or somewhere deep in the Haliburton lakeland, an old haunt of his, as a summer camp councillor near Dorset, Ontario. Whichever way he was going, we would ply him with whatever was necessary, to share some of his exciting reminisces. Our boys, as young as they were at the time, hung off his every word, because these were real-life adventures not to be found in any of their books…….most of which, had been given to them by Mr. Brown over many visits. Dave was like that. He just didn't like price guides. Or people he found arrogant or obstinate…..even though he was a model of both characteristics.
MR. BROWN, AS AN EXAMPLE OF FRIEND AND COMPETITOR AT THE SAME TIME
FIRST OF ALL, DAVE NEVER SIGNED UP TO BE A ROLE MODEL , AND HE WASN'T INTERESTED IN MENTORING ANYONE. DAVE WAS VERY ENTHUSED ABOUT HIS OWN COLLECTION AND COLLECTING ABILITIES, AND DESIRED AS MANY ADVENTURES AND ODYSSEYS AS HE COULD JAM INTO 24 HOURS EACH DAY. YOU NEVER CHIDED DAVE ABOUT BEING COVERED IN SWAMP MUD, FOR EXAMPLE. YOU JUST ASKED HIM WHAT HE'D BEEN LOOKING FOR AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SWAMP. A LOGGING CHAIN? POSSIBLY. A PRESERVED CHUNK OF WHITE PINE, FOR A SCHOOL DISPLAY? YUP. HE'D JUMP INTO A SNAKE INFESTED SWAMP ANY TIME, TO GET SOMETHING NEAT…..MANDMADE OR NATURALLY PROVIDED. ONE DAY A MECHANIC IN HAMILTON, NEEDED HIS HELP ON A SERPENT ISSUE. HE GOT CALLED OUT ON A COLD WINTER AFTERNOON, TO UNCOIL A MATURE BOA CONSTRICTOR, THAT HAD ESCAPED ITS CAGE, SLITHERED OUTSIDE, AND THEN BEEN FORCED, DUE TO THE COLD, TO SEEK THE WARMTH OF A CAR IN A PARKING LOT. DAVE DID THE JOB FOR A SNAKE! THAT WAS HIS PAYMENT. HE GOT TO KEEP THE DEAD SNAKE, AND IT WAS PRESERVED BY A FRIEND IN THE TAXIDERMY BUSINESS, AND THEN USED AS A SHOWPIECE IN HIS OUTDOOR EDUCATION CENTRE……FOR THE BENEFIT OF A LOT OF SPELLBOUND KIDS.
WHEN HE TALKED ABOUT HIS LIFE WITH OLD BOOKS, AND THE OTHER LIFE AS AN OUTDOOR EDUCATION TEACHER, IT WAS WITH THE KNOWLEDGE I WAS TO BE HIS BIOGRAPHER. HE HAD WANTED TO WRITE A BOOK FOR SOME TIME, BUT BY HIS OWN ADMISSION, HE WASN'T A WRITER. I WAS. IT WASN'T UNTIL SHORTLY BEFORE HIS DEATH, THAT I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD WHY HE HAD BEEN TELLING ME ALL HIS COLLECTING STORIES, AND ABOUT HIS YEARS WITH SUMMER CAMPS AND THE OUTDOOR EDUCATION PROGRAM IN CANADA. "I WANT YOU TO WRITE THE BOOK, TED," HE INFORMED ME, ONE NIGHT BY PHONE FROM HAMILTON. "OKAY," I ANSWERED. "WHERE'S THIS COMING FROM DAVE? YOU NEVER MENTIONED THIS BEFORE." "I'VE BEEN WANTING TO THIS FOR SOME TIME." HE ANSWERED. "NOW IS THE PERFECT TIME. HOPE THAT'S OKAY FOR YOU."
Well, if I've spoken well of this man, so far in this blog, let me tell you, that to be asked to pen his biography, was the highlight of a long, run-of-the-mill newspaper career. This was, in my mind, a big break-out from feature column writing, and composing regional histories. What was heart-breaking, came a few weeks later, and it arrived through Suzanne, with great hesitation and regret. Dave called, and when we started to have our usual conversation, and I just happened to ask how he was feeling (he'd recently experienced a few medical problems that forced him to retire from teaching), Dave said, "barked" is a better word. "I'm not telling you Ted. I want to talk to Suzanne." I knew it had to be pretty bad, if Suzanne was the filter for the latest health news. "Dave's going to die, Ted," she said, ashen, with tears running down her cheek. "He's been diagnosed with leukemia." It was the last time I talked to Dave, because the end came quickly. When I agreed to do the damn book, I expected Dave against my shoulder most of the way through the manuscript. I was left to write it largely from memory, of all our conversations.
Dave Brown's name was widely known. In person, he was a bit more of a mystery. He didn't tell you he was a major book collector, and by his general appearance, you would be more likely to think he was just in from the hobo jungle, than owner of a major Canadian book collection. That was fine with Dave. He never corrected folks who thought he was a bum. Well, maybe just once that I know about. It happened when Dave attended an antiquarian and rare book show /sale, where there were numerous vendors from Canada and the United States. He never dressed up, except to go to school, or attend an administrative event for the Hamilton Board of Education, and even then he was casually appointed. Just not shorts and food-stained t-shirt, with big honking sneakers. By wandering around, largely unnoticed, Dave looked terribly out of place, and one vendor seemed most concerned about what looked like "greasy fingers," and a chap without enough money to spend on old books. Now if you asked many of these same vendors, while Dave was standing in their booth, if they had seen Dave Brown, their eyes would nearly pop out of the sockets. "Dave Brown! My God, where is he……what's he look like?" This is because many knew his name from the network of dealers they associated, and that he had become kind of an urban legend in his own time. It was once said of Dave, that "he'd skin a louse for its tallow." Well, he was frugal, that's for sure. But they seemed to know his taste in books, and respected his knowledge of the trade…..as if they might wish to seek the great bard's advice, or opinions on books in their own collection.
Dave liked to play "silly ass" at someone else's expense. He was sort of a "Shane" kind of cowboy, if his story had been a western. He was always the good guy. Always well liked. You wanted to give Dave a good deal because of it. Yet every now and then, a dealer or seller, would tick him off during a business transaction. So at this book event, Dave had been in the subject booth for quite some time, and he could see the vendor getting anxious about the handling of the books. He obviously didn't think Dave worthy of holding them. His interest? He had found two under-priced books on "whaling" as I have written about earlier in this blog. When the dealer came and forcibly took the books from his hands, suggesting that "appropriate care must be taken in the handling of old books," Dave turned his big feet toward the cash table where the man had retreated. Wanting the books, but deciding to remain calm, Dave played along, and continued to discuss the books, condition, and the asking price. I don't really know how long the discussion went on, or what Dave may have been thinking at the time….or if he wished to slug the bloke, but the end result is that he paid the asking price, and took possession of the books. I have always imagined, the dealers chin resting on the sale counter, when Dave took out his trademark wad of big bills. After the purchase, with the books neatly tucked under his arm, he let loose on the guy something fierce. He had a way with words, without raising his voice, or swearing, that could certainly put you in your place on a thin budget of adjectives and verbs. Dave didn't like the way he had been treated, as if someone who had no business being at an old book show, or handling these precious natural histories he'd just prchased.
The cap of the story is this. After Dave slapped his heavy running shoes out of the booth, another vendor ran out to greet him……as almost a celebrity guest. "Dave, I've been keeping these books for you. Do you have a minute to take a look?" The book dealer he'd just left, in a mire of confusion, asked his neighbor later, who the chubby man with dirty sneakers was. "Dave Brown. Heard of him?" Now, from what Dave told me, and he had no reason to lie to his biographer, there was a lot of silence following "oh shit!"
What Dave had told the chap, before leaving the booth, was that some of this friends in the book business would be told of this unfortunate event……and that it had been a mistake to judge a person solely on appearance. How many times have you heard that one? He wasn't fooling. Dave had a good sense of humor, but this book dealer was not going to benefit for any type of goodwill going. In fact, Dave told every book seller he could, about the poor treatment he'd received at this dealer's show booth. Whether he received an apology or not, the book seller got his comeuppance. Dave was powerful in the business, because he networked like a mad-man, to make friends throughout the old book community. Many didn't like Dave, because they considered him a shark with a nasty bite. That's true. He did have a bite, but not if you gave him the credit he deserved. If you showed respect for his accrued knowledge over a lifetime, he was willing to share, and compare notes. He was very much an historian, and that's why we hit it off.
One last story about the lesson Mr. Brown provided me, about the true scope and struggle of competition for the best of the best. Dave came up to attend an "old" book sale at the Anglican Church in Bracebridge. He stayed at our house on the Friday night before the sale, and we were going to travel there together in our car from Gravenhurst. We had an enjoyable night, talked till midnight, sucked back a bottle of wine, and hit the hay. As Suzanne was preparing breakfast for us, I went to call Dave to the table. He was gone. Not for good. Just at that moment. Suzanne did remind me that he said it was possible he would head out a little earlier to tend to some business, and then meet me at the sale. I assumed this is what happened. So I had breakfast, took a leisurely drive to Bracebridge, got to the sale in time to be about 10th in the line-up outside. I was about twenty minutes early. The line-up got pretty big for a church fundraiser, and there were several dealers ahead of me. I admit it. I was there for investment and profit, not for reading material. So when it came time to let us in, the Minister showed up at the now open door, slapping Dave Brown on the back, thanking him for his contribution to the church event. The son-of-a-gun couldn't slap the Minister back, because he had a huge box of old books in his arms at the time. The bastard! "Good morning Ted," he said as he passed. "Sorry I missed breakfast. I had work to do. I left some books for you." Yea, well, that didn't happen unless he meant Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books. But he taught me about how wily you have to be, should you decided to play in the big leagues.
I have many other Dave Brown stories to fascinate you, some involving side arms and estate sales in the United States. There's a lot of money in rare books. I'll take you on a field trip, with the legendary Mr. Brown, in an upcoming blog. If you think I was kidding about the antique and collectible business being exciting…….and a wee bit dangerous, these stories will set you straight. Maybe even make you a convert to the antique profession…….if you're not there already. Tomb raiding? Just short of…..
No comments:
Post a Comment