I see by the papers a recent article in the Financial Times of London on the general subject of book theft, the occasion for the piece being three cases that achieved "high profile" status in Europe by virtue of the materials stolen, and for the stature of the people who committed the crimes. Indeed, the perpetrators have been described by some officials as "gentleman thieves," a description that could well apply to Edward Forbes Smiley III, the dapper American dealer whose theft of 97 maps valued at $3 million from various repositories earned him a sentence in 2006 of three and a half years in federal prison.
The most recent case in Europe involves a 60-year-old Iranian businessman, Farhad Hakimzadeh, who was sentenced to two years in prison in January for having removed pages from rare books in the British and Bodleian libraries over a seven-year period. He did this, it was later learned, to improve imperfect copies in his own collection--"augmenting" them is the bibliographical term--which he could then sell at better prices on the open market. One of the books he vandalized contained a 500-year-old map painted by Hans Holbein, an artist in the court of Henry VIII, and valued at 32,000 pounds.
The two earlier cases discussed in the article involve the thefts in France of Stanislas Gosse, a 30-year-old former naval officer whose particular passion was for illuminated manuscripts plundered from the library of a monastery in eastern France, and the five-year feeding frenzy of one William Jacques, also known as Mr. Santoro, David Fletcher, and to those who finally apprehended him on charges of making off with rare books from the London Library, Cambridge University Library, and British Library valued at 1 million pounds, as the "Tome Raider."
The details of these cases are fascinating, and those interested in learning more should read the Financial Times piece. But what puzzles me the most, I have to say, is not the disclosure of the crimes--since book theft has been with us for centuries--but for the incredulity of it all--as if such crimes are a recent phenomenon, and that anyone should be shocked that the perpetrators turn out to be "respectable" persons.
Let me note that there is a very good reason for why it is pretty difficult to go into the reading rooms of special collections libraries in much of the world these days. Bags and coats must be left outside, surveillance cameras are operating, and people are being watched. You can credit a good deal of that to the lessons learned from the twenty-year campaign of book theft undertaken by Stephen Carrie Blumberg, who I wrote about at length in "A Gentle Madness," and who we can safely say was the quintessential book thief of the twentieth century. His toll over a twenty-year spree: 23,600 books stolen from 268 libraries in forty-five states, two Canadian provinces, and the District of Columbia, booty conservatively valued at the time of his arrest in 1990 at $20 million. Part of Blumberg's MO, it should be noted--one way he gained the trust of libraries--was to masquerade as a visiting scholar.
I shall remember always the words of W. Dennis Aiken, the FBI special agent who supervised the investigation of the case:
"My conviction is that Steve Blumberg was going to get this stuff no matter what he had to do. He did nighttime burglaries. He defeated sophisticated alarm systems. He threw books out windows. He knew what was going on in the life of libraries, and he picked their weakest moments. I suppose if these people were willing to dig a fifty-foot hole in the ground and encase everything in concrete, he might not have been able to get in, but I wouldn't bet on that either. This is a very clever man. Book theft was his life."
Cautionary words if ever there were any.
The most recent case in Europe involves a 60-year-old Iranian businessman, Farhad Hakimzadeh, who was sentenced to two years in prison in January for having removed pages from rare books in the British and Bodleian libraries over a seven-year period. He did this, it was later learned, to improve imperfect copies in his own collection--"augmenting" them is the bibliographical term--which he could then sell at better prices on the open market. One of the books he vandalized contained a 500-year-old map painted by Hans Holbein, an artist in the court of Henry VIII, and valued at 32,000 pounds.
The two earlier cases discussed in the article involve the thefts in France of Stanislas Gosse, a 30-year-old former naval officer whose particular passion was for illuminated manuscripts plundered from the library of a monastery in eastern France, and the five-year feeding frenzy of one William Jacques, also known as Mr. Santoro, David Fletcher, and to those who finally apprehended him on charges of making off with rare books from the London Library, Cambridge University Library, and British Library valued at 1 million pounds, as the "Tome Raider."
The details of these cases are fascinating, and those interested in learning more should read the Financial Times piece. But what puzzles me the most, I have to say, is not the disclosure of the crimes--since book theft has been with us for centuries--but for the incredulity of it all--as if such crimes are a recent phenomenon, and that anyone should be shocked that the perpetrators turn out to be "respectable" persons.
Let me note that there is a very good reason for why it is pretty difficult to go into the reading rooms of special collections libraries in much of the world these days. Bags and coats must be left outside, surveillance cameras are operating, and people are being watched. You can credit a good deal of that to the lessons learned from the twenty-year campaign of book theft undertaken by Stephen Carrie Blumberg, who I wrote about at length in "A Gentle Madness," and who we can safely say was the quintessential book thief of the twentieth century. His toll over a twenty-year spree: 23,600 books stolen from 268 libraries in forty-five states, two Canadian provinces, and the District of Columbia, booty conservatively valued at the time of his arrest in 1990 at $20 million. Part of Blumberg's MO, it should be noted--one way he gained the trust of libraries--was to masquerade as a visiting scholar.
I shall remember always the words of W. Dennis Aiken, the FBI special agent who supervised the investigation of the case:
"My conviction is that Steve Blumberg was going to get this stuff no matter what he had to do. He did nighttime burglaries. He defeated sophisticated alarm systems. He threw books out windows. He knew what was going on in the life of libraries, and he picked their weakest moments. I suppose if these people were willing to dig a fifty-foot hole in the ground and encase everything in concrete, he might not have been able to get in, but I wouldn't bet on that either. This is a very clever man. Book theft was his life."
Cautionary words if ever there were any.
As a lifelong bibliophile (both reader and collector), I wanted to let you know how much I have enjoyed your books and your blog. Since I love to read and collect "Books About Books", Amazon "suggested" one of your books to me after I ordered some by Michael Dirda. After reading the first one, I ordered all your books and have delighted in them all - a real feast for a "Books About Books" lover.
One of the real joys of books is something I call "treasurechesting" or finding out about another book from a book you are currently reading. Thus, I was fascinated by your account of the enigmatic and somewhat sad figure of Katherine Hjerter, who literally gave her life for books at the University of Texas. So I ordered a used copy of her book "Doubly Gifted" for just $12.88 on Amazon not knowing what to expect. Well, I was thrilled to receive a very beautiful book in beautiful condition. Alas, however, Ms. Hjerter remains even more enigmatic - she wrote a
wonderful book but there is no picture or bio of her on the jacket or anywhere in the book. But it is certainly a book I will treasure.
My collection will never be famous or written about, but it has made for
a happy life (although my husband did grumble a lot the times we have
moved!). I have a lot of "Books About Books" including books by A.E.
Newton and Dr. ASW Rosenbach. The oldest is an essay in a bound book of
random pamphlets (that includes the proceedings of the Hartford
Convention dated 1815) that is an anonymous essay "On Men and Books".
There appear to be a series of about six essays by this same author.
One is actually a letter signed simply "B". The pamphlets all date
between about 1813-1830. One of my favorite books, although not about
books, is the artist Charles Courtney Curran's worn copy of Whistler's
"The Gentle Art of Making Enemies" with newspaper clippings inside about
the famous court case.
I am hoping you write a book about bookstores with pen and ink line
drawing illustrations. Not about the really famous bookstores that
always get written about but about those wonderful little used
bookstores and their equally wonderful proprietors that make life always an exciting adventure!
There's always a book to be found!
Well, Barbara, I have to say I'm pretty grateful that Amazon "suggested" one of my books for you to read, because you are certainly one of the gently mad, and I'm delighted to make your acquaintance. Welcome aboard, you'll find this to be a most agreeable affliction (excuse the oxymoron).
As for a book on the subject of bookstores, I don't think I have one of these in my immediate future, but I am writing periodically on this blog and in my FB&C column on places that I enjoy to "book" (it is indeed a verb in the world of the bibliophile.) In fact, I'm in the process right now of writing something about a string of stores my wife and I had the great pleasure of visiting along U.S. 1 in Maine just yesterday that should be along later today, in fact.
Anyway, thanks again for your lovely comment; please keep in touch.
Hello Mr. Basbanes: I first came across your writing with "A Gentle Madness". I lived in Iowa at the time of the Blumberg thefts so followed that closely. I currently live in Tampa, Florida and seem to continue to amass a books covering a wide spectrum of subject matter. I caught your appearance on C-SPAN Book TV and very much enjoyed it. I have also enjoyed your other books. One of my favorite subjects to collect is books about books of which I have approximately 100. I recently had to build an outbuilding to house the overflow from my growing collection as I never seem to be able to part with many of the books I acquire. The next job will be to re-shelve and re-organize all of them as I segregate what goes into the new building from what stays in my house. An enjoyable project at least. Keep up the good work.
Mr. Basbanes,
I'm sorry you missed the last antiquarian bookshow in Concord, NH and hope you make the next one in August. Books about books: a most entertaining writer in this area from the southwest was Lawrence Clark Powell, a librarian from California. One of his best is "Passion For Books". I treasure my signed copies of your books. All the best.