It's been weeding time around here the last couple of weeks, an exercise I undertake every year or so to see which books I once felt were mine forever--and a number of them have been around long enough so they certainly feel that way--but are now prime candidates for deaccession. Space of course is the principal consideration, but you also reach a certain point in life where you begin to think of collecting books not just in terms of addition, but of subtraction as well. Everyone of a certain age knows whereof I speak. (For more on this particular dynamic, take a look at the very first paragraph of Chapter 1 in "A Gentle Madness.")
The motivation this time around has been an attempt to prepare a descriptive bibliography of the inscribed books I have acquired over the past thirty years, some 600 or so volumes that were signed for me in the "line of duty," as it were, by authors I interviewed for the literary column I wrote week after week from 1978 to 2000. I've written a bit about this exercise in my book, "Among the Gently Mad," and talked about it at some length in the television special CPSAN ran a couple of months ago on BookTV that featured a tour of my home library. I have to say that flipping through a couple of those titles on camera brought back a lot of pleasant memories--nice personal inscriptions from David McCullough, Tom Wolfe, Buzz Aldrin, Chuck Yeager, Margaret Atwood, Umberto Eco and the like--and it occurred to me that it was high time I did something I've been thinking about doing for a long time, and that is to compile a comprehensive list of just what exactly it is I have on my shelves.
How all of this morphed its way into a weeding frenzy was basically a circumstance of one thing leading to another. All of the inscribed books, you see, have not been kept in one place, but in thematic categories instead. Oh, I certainly had the dazzlers up there on the shelves over the fireplace--Margaret Atwood, Toni Morrison, Arthur Miller, Isaac Asimov, Barry Moser, Paul Theroux, David Halberstam, Tom Wolfe, Norman Mailer, Joseph Heller, John Updike, Mario Puzo, Kurt Vonnegut--but there were many, many more everywhere else, and so began the task of going through every volume in the house, pulling out books that I had kept in every imaginable nook and cranny, pretty much by subject. A fine work on the development of naval warfare by John Keegan, for instance, was kept in a section set aside for military history, photographic retrospectives by Ansel Adams, Yousuf Karsh, and Eve Arnold with photography, Julia Child with food, Maurice Sendak, David Macaulay, Michael Hague, and Chris Van Allsburg with children's books, fine biographies of George Bernard Shaw by Michael Holroyd and Virginia Woolf by Hermione Lee in an extensive section I maintain on literary biography, William Kennedy and E. L. Doctorow among novelists--you get the idea.
Once I got immersed in this--and I spent a full week at the task--I seized the opportunity to do some grooming. All told, I found about a hundred books that will now make their way up to Clark University for an annual sale put on to benefit the Friends of the Goddard Library, an event I have enjoyed supporting for the better part of twenty-five years. I will miss some of them, to be sure--they have been worthy companions over many years--but I am pleased to know they will find new lives among kindred spirits.
As for the odyssey through the inscribed books, this was a romp unique to my experience. Since each book contains a personal message of one sort or another, reading all of them individually allowed me to relive the circumstances of every interview, and to recall how pleasant it was to spend time with some of the people I admire most in the world--which is book people. It was a real hoot to run across an inscription by Roy Blount Jr, written on November 19, 1982, on the occasion of a discussion about his very funny collection of "satire, invective, foolery, criticism, reporting, reflection and verse," titled "One Fell Soup." On the front endsheet, he wrote, "Thanks for the cigar and the literary conversation. It's nice to be able to discuss the concept of raunchiness with you just before you get to Annie Dillard."
It was not uncommon back in the day for me to schedule several interviews with authors on one day, and after I finished with Blount, I did indeed meet with Annie Dillard, a wonderful essayist and poet who had won a Pulitzer Prize in 1974 for "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek." A truly good sport as well, she had a hearty laugh when I showed her the Blount comment, prompting her to write this in "Teaching a Stone to Talk," the book we had gotten together to discuss: "For Nick Basbanes, with all best wishes after a jolly old time at the Ritz-Carlton on the day of his talk with a slightly-more-raunchy Roy Blount Jr."
Were those the good old days, or what?
The motivation this time around has been an attempt to prepare a descriptive bibliography of the inscribed books I have acquired over the past thirty years, some 600 or so volumes that were signed for me in the "line of duty," as it were, by authors I interviewed for the literary column I wrote week after week from 1978 to 2000. I've written a bit about this exercise in my book, "Among the Gently Mad," and talked about it at some length in the television special CPSAN ran a couple of months ago on BookTV that featured a tour of my home library. I have to say that flipping through a couple of those titles on camera brought back a lot of pleasant memories--nice personal inscriptions from David McCullough, Tom Wolfe, Buzz Aldrin, Chuck Yeager, Margaret Atwood, Umberto Eco and the like--and it occurred to me that it was high time I did something I've been thinking about doing for a long time, and that is to compile a comprehensive list of just what exactly it is I have on my shelves.How all of this morphed its way into a weeding frenzy was basically a circumstance of one thing leading to another. All of the inscribed books, you see, have not been kept in one place, but in thematic categories instead. Oh, I certainly had the dazzlers up there on the shelves over the fireplace--Margaret Atwood, Toni Morrison, Arthur Miller, Isaac Asimov, Barry Moser, Paul Theroux, David Halberstam, Tom Wolfe, Norman Mailer, Joseph Heller, John Updike, Mario Puzo, Kurt Vonnegut--but there were many, many more everywhere else, and so began the task of going through every volume in the house, pulling out books that I had kept in every imaginable nook and cranny, pretty much by subject. A fine work on the development of naval warfare by John Keegan, for instance, was kept in a section set aside for military history, photographic retrospectives by Ansel Adams, Yousuf Karsh, and Eve Arnold with photography, Julia Child with food, Maurice Sendak, David Macaulay, Michael Hague, and Chris Van Allsburg with children's books, fine biographies of George Bernard Shaw by Michael Holroyd and Virginia Woolf by Hermione Lee in an extensive section I maintain on literary biography, William Kennedy and E. L. Doctorow among novelists--you get the idea.
Once I got immersed in this--and I spent a full week at the task--I seized the opportunity to do some grooming. All told, I found about a hundred books that will now make their way up to Clark University for an annual sale put on to benefit the Friends of the Goddard Library, an event I have enjoyed supporting for the better part of twenty-five years. I will miss some of them, to be sure--they have been worthy companions over many years--but I am pleased to know they will find new lives among kindred spirits.
As for the odyssey through the inscribed books, this was a romp unique to my experience. Since each book contains a personal message of one sort or another, reading all of them individually allowed me to relive the circumstances of every interview, and to recall how pleasant it was to spend time with some of the people I admire most in the world--which is book people. It was a real hoot to run across an inscription by Roy Blount Jr, written on November 19, 1982, on the occasion of a discussion about his very funny collection of "satire, invective, foolery, criticism, reporting, reflection and verse," titled "One Fell Soup." On the front endsheet, he wrote, "Thanks for the cigar and the literary conversation. It's nice to be able to discuss the concept of raunchiness with you just before you get to Annie Dillard."
It was not uncommon back in the day for me to schedule several interviews with authors on one day, and after I finished with Blount, I did indeed meet with Annie Dillard, a wonderful essayist and poet who had won a Pulitzer Prize in 1974 for "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek." A truly good sport as well, she had a hearty laugh when I showed her the Blount comment, prompting her to write this in "Teaching a Stone to Talk," the book we had gotten together to discuss: "For Nick Basbanes, with all best wishes after a jolly old time at the Ritz-Carlton on the day of his talk with a slightly-more-raunchy Roy Blount Jr."
Were those the good old days, or what?
I wish I had stories like that to post. Instead, most of my autograph stories involve standing in lines and getting generic signatures on title pages.
Except of course when I got your inscription at last year's book fair in Boston. My wife was highly impressed that you took time to write in both books and she's not the book collecting type.
I don't know about you, but I absolutely LOVE how Nick proudly announces that he surveyed probably well over 10,000 of his own books and found a whopping 100 to donate to a worthy cause! I know what it is like, my friend - it's like giving away your children. I have attempted this deaccession process many times myself, only to think convincingly, "Geez, I really do need this book on dark Scottish superstitions because...."
I have just been viewing a re-airing of the Book TV tour of your library. It was wonderful!
I thought I had a fine collection of literature, and I thought it large, but mine is a microcosm of yours But it is stored in the same fashion. I have a bookcase in the utility room, just because I found a space there.
Finding a book is always a task. Recently I told a friend I had a book to give him, and then couldn't find it. My friend is a minister, and the book was "Noone Sees God" by Michael Novak (I had seen a program with Novak on Book TV.) I didn't like the book, and decided I must have lent it to someone who forgot to return it.
But when my minister friend was visiting for lunch one day I asked him to go through the house and all the bookshelves and choose another book as a gift. He found the missing volume!
Now I'm missing your book "A Gentle Madness" I wanted to look through it again this evening after seeing you and your library. It is on a suface somewhere in the house because I saw it just a few days ago. I'm bound to find it soon.
I just wanted you to know how much I like your book, and how much I enjoyed seeing your library and hearing your running commrentary.
Now I have to aquire your subsequent books.
Good luck with the coming work on paper. I Have q little handmade leather-covered notebook in which the pages are handmade which I use as my commonplace book, so I have an interest in the making of paper.
Best Regards,
Carol Fox
Hartwell, Ga.
What a lovely comment, Carol, thanks so much. Nice to know there are so many kindred spirits out there who have the same storage issues that I do. My house is still topsy-turvy from all of the cataloging--I finally wound up finding 629 inscribed books throughout the house, and have decided, now that I have them all in hand, to shelve them sensibly, alphabetically by author. As an old naval officer, I know something about the laws of displacement--the books that are going in one place mean that books that are there have to go somewhere else--and therein lies the current dilemma. The good news is that like you, I am discovering books that I thought had disappeared forever. Thanks for the good words, and have a pleasant Fourth of July.
Dear Sir
Never did I think anyone else had a home full of books as we do, until I viewed a book TV show on public television featuring Nicholas Basbanes. My wife and I both chuckled. We were looking to see where the cameras were in our home.
Thank you for sharing your books, home, and writings.
Respectfully
Jim Ferguson
Nashville, Tn
I, too, very much enjoyed the C-Span tour of the atheneum Basbanes. Words fail me!
Wouldn't it be entertaining and instructive to read about how people of average means follow their passions by forming personal libraries that specialize in one subject? Say, for example, the story of a collector deeply interested in Twain or the history of the submarine or Indian basketry. What obstacles challenged them, what new paths were revealed along the way and what was the ultimate fate of their collection?
I had, for example, an abiding interest in the work of children's author/illustrator Clare Turlay Newberry. Her delightful cat and dog-themed picture books were very popular in the 1930s and 40s. I knew little about her and was overcome with the desire to get it right, so I formed a little library of Clare's books, then spent two years assembling background material for a book. Writing a book, I felt, was the best way to learn about my subject. The book was finally issued in an edition of two copies, one of which is owned by Clare's daughter, Felicia. I also mounted an exhibit of Clare's books and published portfolios at the local public library in 2003, the centennial year of her birth. After all that, I was satisfied that I had met my goals. Because my library is an organic thing-always changing as my interests evolve-I've since moved on to another subject.
Happy collecting!
Steve May
You are living proof, Steve, that an engaged collector ofentimes knows more about his/her subject better than any professional scholar. By putting that collection together--and driven by an impulse to "get it right"--you told Clare's story. That there are just two copies, who cares? You did it--and for that you should be proud.
I've had a lot of fun these last couple of weeks, Jim, doing an impromptu inventory of everything, not so much to write it down, but to reacquaint myself with what I have, and it's been one hoot of an adventure. There are no cameras in the woodwork, I assure you. Thanks very much for the nice words.
I've enjoyed reading these comments because I see myself in them. I have over 10,000 books and am trying to go through them and see which ones I can bear to donate. However, I often come across one or more that I want to read right now and that's the end of my deaccession for a time. And though I know I shouldn't even be looking, I almost always find something at the thrift shops as I'm traveling across the country.
10,000 books is a pretty formidable home library, Marcia, it must have been a lot of fun putting together. I'm on Cape Cod at the moment, and have with my no fewer than 10 books, half in support of my work-in-progress, another I am reviewing for the Los Angeles Times, the ohers for a Nick's Picks blog entry I hope to have up on the site by the end of the day, though the gorgeous weather today--at long last here in the Norheast--is doing its best to divert me from the task at hand. We'll see how it goes. But like yourself, it's always reassuring to have these great companions nearby.
Dear Mr. Basbanes,
I just wanted to say thank you for indirectly inviting me into your house through C-SPAN TV. I watched the show last night and was thoroughly fascinated, both by your extraordinary collection of books as well as your remarkable ability to remember (most times) where everything is. I love it when Book TV does these tours through various author's homes. It kind of lets you snoop without really being a snooper. I've always had this weird interest of seeing how other people work and organize their things as well as their time to be their most productive. I often think it goes way back to when I had a paper route about 35 years ago. One of my customers was Channel 38 in Brithton, and every morning I dropped off a paper. (It was before anyone came in for the day.). I'd gaze into a couple of offices from outside the building. I didn't know who these people were and really couldn't read anything that was written on the various legal pads that were strewn about the desks. It was just kind of a weird fascination seeing the various desks, messy and neat,that for some reason captivated me.
I remembered recently reading an article in National Review by someone whose secret pleasure was "stationery"'. Well I just did some digging through my many "Already Read Articles" folders and finally came up with it. It was written by John Derbyshire and entitled "Office Romance.". Damn, did that article hit home. I now knew I wasn't the only one who loved going into Staples, or in my case the local Ocean State Job Lot, and pick up 8 packs of legal pads (both white and yellow!) and look and look, all the while realizing that if I brought one more legal pad of any color into the house. My wife was going to have me committed. She's told me the next organizerI buy "had better be an organizer for your organizers".
I've taken up enough time of such a busy man. Thanks for listening. Thanks once again for such a fascinating insightful look into the life of a writer. Your easy-going personality and manner made for a very enjoyable hour. Good luck in your future endeavors. I plan to pick up a few of your books now that I know about you.
C-SPAN has introduced me to quite a few authors that I now enjoy.
With regards,
Eddie Bennett
Marlborough, MA
What a joy watching you on C-SPAN and opening your home to us viewers.
I just finished P.D. James a few months ago and you had it on your list. Her bio is one of my favorites book. I have piles of book to read also, but what I joy. I love going from biographies to fiction and non-fiction. I am so happy you have a web site I just finished 'Prayers for Sale" and it was a good read. Went to Goodwill and got some good books to add to my small collection. I'm an east coast girl who moved to the Midwest and loves the state of Mass,
I just found a great website, goodreads.com, that logs all of my books and it is also a great resource. Tomorrow I will go to my independent book store and get your books.
The BookWorm has many authors come for booksigning. I walked in one day and I was lucky enough to have Ted Sorensen sign his book for me. Not bad.