Nice job, Mr. DTB, as always. I liked the piece on the Bauman consortium, but I was left with the same question I puzzle over when I receive their catalogues: Who can afford these books? Admittedly, my question contains at least a small measure of envy. And a larger helping of incredulity. My son was slotted to attend a state college until an Ivy League school came through with a generous scholarship. Tuition some four or five years ago was $65,000 per annum. I once asked the fortunate undergrad if he knew students whose parents could just write a check for the entire tuition. Affirmative.
I always found Rebecca to be the only reason to watch Pawn Stars. And I always relished the incongruity of a customer showing up with a signed first rather than a handful of World Series' rings. Something always bothered me about her appearances. The Pawn Boss would ask her to come calling. She'd show up and rattle off points of issue and other arcana — regardless of the book she was assessing. The setup always seemed to suggest that this was a "cold" reading. I was impressed, but I was more skeptical.
A final point: One now deceased dealer in modern firsts complained bitterly about another dead bookseller's book on collecting in that area. The charge was that its was "market building." I always wondered if the comment was actually due to the outraged bookseller not thinking of the idea first.
Wait, I lied: Another bookseller I knew (still above ground) summed up the shock and awe about ambitious prices simply: Selling rare books has always been a carriage trade.
Thanks, Aaron, for the comment. Bookselling has always had a much more collegial atmosphere than (in my experience) the antiques trade, for example. But like any such group, it is riven with petty feuds, shifting factions, and pissy jealousies. Little known fact: in addition to needing at least four year's experience to qualify for membership in the Antiquarian Booksellers' Association of America (ABAA), you also need at least one mortal enemy in the trade (just kidding, but not really). Of course, if your mortal enemy has a book you really want, you'll still buy it from them. Complain all you want behind their back, but business is business. If they are really spiteful, the purchasing dealer will *refuse* to accept the standard discount from their enemy. That'll show 'em.
I just emailed my local independent new bookstore to see if they’ll order in Romney’s book for me (if they don’t already have it).
I work in a used bookstore and bring home marvels every day (purchased with my discount) but I don’t want to wait for a used copy of this book to come through the door.
Nice job, Mr. DTB, as always. I liked the piece on the Bauman consortium, but I was left with the same question I puzzle over when I receive their catalogues: Who can afford these books? Admittedly, my question contains at least a small measure of envy. And a larger helping of incredulity. My son was slotted to attend a state college until an Ivy League school came through with a generous scholarship. Tuition some four or five years ago was $65,000 per annum. I once asked the fortunate undergrad if he knew students whose parents could just write a check for the entire tuition. Affirmative.
I always found Rebecca to be the only reason to watch Pawn Stars. And I always relished the incongruity of a customer showing up with a signed first rather than a handful of World Series' rings. Something always bothered me about her appearances. The Pawn Boss would ask her to come calling. She'd show up and rattle off points of issue and other arcana — regardless of the book she was assessing. The setup always seemed to suggest that this was a "cold" reading. I was impressed, but I was more skeptical.
A final point: One now deceased dealer in modern firsts complained bitterly about another dead bookseller's book on collecting in that area. The charge was that its was "market building." I always wondered if the comment was actually due to the outraged bookseller not thinking of the idea first.
Wait, I lied: Another bookseller I knew (still above ground) summed up the shock and awe about ambitious prices simply: Selling rare books has always been a carriage trade.
As always
Aaron
Thanks, Aaron, for the comment. Bookselling has always had a much more collegial atmosphere than (in my experience) the antiques trade, for example. But like any such group, it is riven with petty feuds, shifting factions, and pissy jealousies. Little known fact: in addition to needing at least four year's experience to qualify for membership in the Antiquarian Booksellers' Association of America (ABAA), you also need at least one mortal enemy in the trade (just kidding, but not really). Of course, if your mortal enemy has a book you really want, you'll still buy it from them. Complain all you want behind their back, but business is business. If they are really spiteful, the purchasing dealer will *refuse* to accept the standard discount from their enemy. That'll show 'em.
I love every one of your posts.
I just emailed my local independent new bookstore to see if they’ll order in Romney’s book for me (if they don’t already have it).
I work in a used bookstore and bring home marvels every day (purchased with my discount) but I don’t want to wait for a used copy of this book to come through the door.