Our series profiling the next generation of antiquarian booksellers continues today with Ashley Wildes at Between the Covers Rare Books in Gloucester City, New Jersey.

In 1543, Andreas Vesalius, the founder of modern human anatomy, published De Humani Corporis Fabrica (The Fabric of the Human Body), what is now considered the most famous and beautifully illustrated of all early printed medical books. Later today, Professor Vivian Nutton of the University of Warwick in Coventry, England, will present the discovery of an annotated copy of the later 1555 edition that includes hundreds of Vesalius' manuscript notes and corrections to the printer plates. It seems the Flemish anatomist was working on a third edition of his magnum opus!

Needless to say, this is an amazing find, sure to interest scholars in many fields, particularly those in the history of science. And, as one collector put it, "The discovery of a copy annotated by Vesalius for another edition that was never published is about as good as it gets for rare medical book collectors!"

The book is now on deposit at the Fisher Rare Book Library of the University of Toronto. A full description of the discovery and research done by Canadian pathologist Gerard Vogrincic and Professor Nutton will appear in the journal, Medical History, in October. More information is available at My Science. 

If you're like me, you find yourself glued to the television every Sunday night when Masterpiece Theater is on.  And this year, as befits the 200th anniversary of his birth, is the year of Dickens.  So Masterpiece just recently wrapped up encore presentations of Oliver Twist and The Old Curiosity Shop.  And later this spring will see new adaptations of Great Expectations and The Mystery of Edwin Drood (which I'm particularly looking forward to).

So it's the perfect year for this bit of news to come out of the BBC: the earliest film based on Dickens's work was recently found in the archive at the British Film Institute.  The one-minute silent film from 1901, entitled "The Death of Poor Jo," is an adaptation of the famous scene in Bleak House.  You can watch it here:



The film is being attributed to G. A. Smith, a pioneering British filmmaker, who also made the now second oldest adaptation of Dickens: "Scrooge, or Marley's Ghost," from The Christmas Carol.  You can watch that comparatively epic three-minute film here:



The BFI tells us that before the invention of sound in film there were already about 100 adaptations of Dickens work from around the world.  If you're not yet tired of scratchy film and theatrical gestures, you can watch a cool compendium of these Dickens films here:



If, on the other hand, you are now longing for glossy, modern adaptations, here is the trailer for the upcoming Great Expectations, which will air on Masterpiece on April 1:

Jack Kerouac was born ninety years ago today. Did he ever think this would be his legacy? Apparently, Kerouac wanted Marlon Brando to play Dean Moriarty...

Book Scouting in Bulgaria

A guest blog by Zhenya Dzhavgova




On the other hand, an online search revealed that there were several stores in Sofia I wanted to check out. Armed with directions and trying to remember my way around the capital city from my college days I waded through the dirty snow in search of the most promising one of the shops. To say I was surprised by the inventory would be an understatement. The beautiful shelves crammed with thousands of antiquarian books and the friendly owner promptly set me at ease and I happily began browsing. After a while, seeing that I would most probably spend the day there, I told the proprietor I would get lunch and come back later. "Hmmm, maybe I could give you my card...just in case," he said and I realized with a jolt he thought I was trying to get out without buying anything. While assuring him I really truly was coming back I wondered how many people had used that same phrase and never shown up again. I was also having the same doubts about revealing what I did for a living I'd had at the library. The sad truth was that not many, but some, businessmen in Bulgaria tended to "adjust" their prices at the mentioning of people from abroad and the envisioning of US dollars. Returning to the bookshop and meeting the second co-owner made up my mind. Pulling out one of my business cards I asked them about specific subjects I was interested in. "My God, this is so cool, we have to do business together, I will give you a discount on everything, wait here, I am going to our storage..." babbled one of the guys and bolted out the door. The second one sat me down and began talking about the book trends in Bulgaria. As it turned out, the trade had been slowly picking up speed in the last few years with online sales taking up the majority of the business transactions. Most antiquarian shops were in Sofia and the biggest number of sales was conducted in Europe. I did buy some great Communist Era books but more importantly - I made friends and business partners for years to come.

My next stop was the giant outdoor book market on Slaveikov Plaza, which I remembered as a place to buy new bestsellers and textbooks, but was assured had sprouted a few antiquarian booths in the last several years. While digging through a box of interesting pamphlets, I was approached by the seller who informed me they had an open shop nearby where I could negotiate a bulk purchase price with his boss if interested. Upon entering the store I had a fleeting urge to turn around and run. The only problem was the turning around part -- it was that crowded and claustrophobic. The shelves were not of the overstuffed, but alluring and inviting kind but of the piled, thrown-together, neglected variety. As hard as I tried, I could not see the owner so I settled for talking to the disembodied voice coming from behind the avalanche-waiting-to-happen. I asked for books on a particular topic and was handed a few insignificant and grossly overpriced items. I politely handed them back while saying I would just look around some more. "Yea, no looking, I thought you were buying, I am busy and don't have time to deal with people like you!" Normally not known to back down, I was momentarily stunned by such unprofessional rudeness. That "dealer" had just botched the sale of one, and possibly more, boxes of items. What a difference it was between the owners of the stores I had previously visited.


And then there were the books that relatives and friends kept dragging out of forgotten libraries and collections. I was surprised to find some real gems among the offered materials. In the end, I could honestly say the trip was a success. I scouted, I bought, I laughed, I was horrified, and I am looking forward to the next time.

Many thanks to Zhenya Dzhavgova, proprietor of ZH Books in California who we recently profiled for the Bright Young Things series on the blog.

Catalogue Review: Eureka Books, #28

This is the first catalogue I've seen from Eureka Books, though not its first, and certainly not the first from bookseller P. Scott Brown, known to many of you as the former editor of FB&C and currently the co-proprietor of "one of the last classic antiquarian bookstores on the West Coast" (in Eureka, CA).

Having acquired a large private collection (fifty file boxes) of Isaac Asimov, Eureka Books has been listing his science fiction firsts (and more) since late January. There are numerous signed and inscribed books, as well as association copies.

In this beautifully illustrated color catalogue of highlights, it's interesting (and instructive) to see several editions of one title, showing a range of rarity, condition, and value. Take, for example, Asimov's The Robots of Dawn. Here listed is a first limited edition from Phantasia Press, lettered issue, one of 35 copies signed by Asimov and bound in full leather ($1,850). Or, you could choose that first limited edition, one of 650 signed and numbered copies, in a fine dust jacket ($250). Or, perhaps the 1983 Doubleday first edition, inscribed by the author and in a fine dust jacket ($300). Lastly, that same edition with a jacket showing slightly more wear and a different inscription ($175). We could do this same exercise with Robots and Empire, Pebble in the Sky, I, Robot, and Nightfall.

Other fun finds in this catalogue: Isaac Asimov's How Is Paper Made? co-authored by Elizabeth Kaplan and published in 1993 ($25). Asimov's Realm of Algebra, published in 1964, in which "the good doctor explains algebra to smart kids" ($125). And Asimov's Guide to Shakespeare, a first edition in two volumes in NF dust jackets and slipcase ($200).

Enjoy a PDF or fully illustrated web version by clicking here:
http://www.eurekabooksellers.com/asimov/

Our series profiling the next generation of antiquarian booksellers continues today with Kara McLaughlin, proprietor of Little Sages in Cooper City, Florida. Little Sages will be exhibiting at its first book fair this weekend at the Florida Antiquarian Book Fair in St. Petersburg.


NP: How did you get started in rare books?

KM: I've always had stacks of the darn things like little skylines... with a babe in arms, I found and sold an early Ian Fleming and something just lit.  I read everything about bookselling I could get my hands on, then after an inspiring trip to my first ABAA fair I high-tailed it to CABS. Cliche but true - they (the books) found me.

NP: When did you open Little Sages? And what is the significance of the name?

KM: Little Sages shipped it's first title out in 2007. As to the name, I'd had it in mind before books materialized. The sage, as a Jungian or literary archetype, a kind and wise figure, waxing philosophical, sometimes magical, and often stepping aside (whether by choice or force) within a plot, allowing the hero to develop and actualize. The emphasis here on the diminutive adjective - not quite there yet - only 'Little' Sages are we, but I like the idea of revealing and guiding a seeker to the tools he may use in his journey.  

NP: What do you specialize in?

KM: Quite a generalist, but might I be a serial specialist as well? As of this moment: Esoterica. Bold, fearless women. Men who loved them. Revelations, books that will not be quiet. Illustrated books, book arts and pamphlets/ephemera or as I like to call it: weird, skinny crap.

NP: Any particular benefit or challenge to share about selling books in Florida?

KM: Confession time! Jealous: of attics and forgotten barns; secret nooks and an extra century or two that homesteaders and humidity would begrudge me. Geographically challenged unless I start deep sea diving for /really/ old crusty things. Bright side: there's grass underfoot year round.

NP: Favorite or most interesting book (or etc) you've handled?

KM: Perhaps not as interesting to me as the book is the seeker of the book, or more optimistically the finder - my favorite tales all have the common theme of 'book-in-arms-of-rightful-keeper', like the young woman in a small town, awaiting the book signed by her Great Aunt, Princess Atalie. She's likely never purchased a 'collectible' book before, and perhaps won't again,  but this book belongs to her -  it's a piece of her family legacy, soon to come home.

NP: What do you personally collect?

KM: Hmm... lots of  titles end up with a small, penciled 'pl' (for personal library) - but they are not collected, just set aside for reading and exploration. In total candor - not too long ago I was so excited to break century barriers, I would keep tucking away the early 1800's,  just chomping at the bit to hit 1799 (which I did) and then in one fell swoop, straight back to 1544. I can't get enough pre-1850 frontispieces, the evocative etchings as if done in oil.

NP: What do you love about the book trade?

KM: I get to hunt, gather, research and play archivist/curator - then release it back into the wild. Books and their relatives totally activate and enamor me - but the icing on the cake is the trade itself - like a tribe of brilliant, curious, intellectuals - that's who you want at your dinner party, I'm telling you.  They are some dynamic, wonderful humans.

NP: Any thoughts to share on the future of the book trade?

KM: What will change I think are the trophies themselves, as well as the way they are sought. Seekers of the book will surely continue to need a little nudge in the right direction - I'm happy to oblige.  

NP: Do you have a catalogue / e-list in the works?

KM: I do! As soon as I notch this 'first fair thing' onto my belt I'll be settling in at home and honing the 'first catalog' skills.

Community Supported Bookshops

Guest Blog by Todd Pratum of Owl & Company Bookshop, Oakland

After 31 years in the book business, five bookshops and three warehouse internet operations later, I've pulled myself out of the internet (almost entirely--tired of staring into a screen instead of a face or walls of fine books) and moved most of my 30,000 volumes into a beautiful new bookshop of my creation. 1,200 sq. ft. for $3,000 on a very busy street, one of the best shopping and clubbing streets in the Bay Area and the Bay Area's greatest concentration of bookshops, six now, within five blocks. My website is primitive but there are photos on Yelp. So far so good, though there are a lot of people coming in saying things like "I love bookshops," "I love the smell of old books," "Thank you for joining our neighborhood," "I LOVE books," etc. then leave without buying anything, waving from the door and saying, "Good luck!"

For this reason I am starting something unique in the book business (I believe), what I am calling 'Community Supported Bookshops.' CSB, modeled on something well established here in the US, Community Supported Agriculture (CSA), where people, who now realize the value of the family farm 'join' the farm for certain (usually minor and at no extra cost to the farm) benefits, and the joy of supporting something local and real.

Soon we will be charging $40 per year for membership. Besides T-shirts and bumper stickers, all members really get is advance notice of our quarterly 35%-off sales, and they get to come in a week before the public. These sales are held anyway so this costs us nothing. This is my answer to all the people who 'love' bookshops but never buy anything. Or come in and find books then use their phone to find it cheaper. (NB about 30% of all purchases on Amazon are generated first by a discovery in a brick and mortar shop).

What I've built here is a 'traditional looking' bookshop: 13-foot custom wood shelving to the ceiling, with only incandescent lights, a community meeting / art gallery in back, and generous open hours to serve the browser. Most everybody that comes in says things like "This reminds me of London," "4th Street NY," "The Old Library where I grew up," "What a bookshop should be," Harry Potter, Charing Cross Road (or the movie), the Ninth Gate, etc. And for Generation Y, they intuitively know this is a good authentic thing even though they have never seen anything like it. They value at least the idea. 

If there are any dealers who would like to help me develop this idea into a movement, where other bookshops join the CSB Society and make it global then I would like to correspond. My manager is hot on the idea, and I can pay her for some extra time to work on this project.

A few details: We still pay our generous rate on books for cash and trade but mark everything much cheaper than the net. Turnover is the key (read The Mathematics of Bookselling). No longer do I price books compared to the net but much cheaper.

What do I love the most these days? The amazing books that find their way here. My shop has brought in wonderful libraries and collections. Many are GIVEN to me. But my best and most exciting experience is working with salvage people who find crazy and unique collections of books, documents, letters, ephemera, photos, etc. that have been left at the dump or thrown in dumpsters, or though real estate agents, probate attorneys, even the City Of Oakland (abandoned houses especially), and the like. Why? Because there are only a few bookshops in this entire area of 13 million that buy books, so people are just desperate to do something with them.

We are a totally general shop which is key I think, but I have still retained my old focus on esoterica, antiquarian scholarly books, and "uncommon fact & fiction."

The SF Book & Fair Show last month in San Francisco was a great learning experience. I haven't exhibited or even attended a fair for many years, and I sold very few books at this fair, one of the largest in the world, ugh... But I learned. My most memorable observation? Almost everybody was at least 40 years old, with many ancient people and no '20-something' people. This I believe is partly due to the fact that the dealers there only sell the old standards, and don't try to appeal to young people's interest. Yet after five bookshops I have always found that when it comes to used books the bread and butter of a general shop is the young people who are most willing to pay for books, and eat later (Erasmus).

Soon we will have a computer terminal here so people can check the internet on any books and decide for themselves what is the better deal.

Thanks to Todd Pratum for sharing his essay. Tell us what you think of community supported bookshops!

Have you heard the fairy tale about the young girl who escapes the clutches of a witch by turning herself into a pond?  The witch drinks all the water, swallowing the girl, but the girl frees herself by cutting her way of the witch's stomach with a knife.  If you're not familiar with that one, you're not alone.  The last time anyone recorded that fairy tale was in the 19th century, deep in Germany's Black Forest. 

The story of the pond-girl and the witch, and about 500 other fairy tales, were recently re-discovered buried deep in an archive in Regensberg, Germany.  The Guardian reported yesterday about the find.  All the fairy tales were recorded by the German historian, Franz Xaver von Schönwerth (1810 - 1886), who spent much of the 19th century roaming through Germany's Black Forest, recording local customs and folklore, and paying close attention to fairy tales.  No less a fairy tale collector than Jacob Grimm said of Schönwerth, "Nowhere in the whole of Germany is anyone collecting [folklore] so accurately, thoroughly and with such a sensitive ear." 

Schönwerth differed from the Grimm brothers in that his outlook was primarily historical -- he didn't embellish the stories he heard, he just set them down on paper as they were told.  His work, therefore, provides an unparalleled glimpse into Bavarian culture in the 19th century.

Erika Eichenseer, the cultural curator for Oberpflaz in Bavaria, has ignited a recent re-evaluation of Schönwerth's work.  Schönwerth published a three volume collection of his studies in the 1850s, but the work went largely unnoticed, fading quickly from the public eye.  (Incidentally, the three volumes, entitled Aus der Oberpfalz - Sitten und Sagen, were printed in 1857, 1858, and 1859.  I couldn't find any copies available online).  Eichenseer discovered Schönwerth's fairy tales in an archive in Regensberg while shifting through his papers.  Last year, she published a German selection of tales from the collection.  An English translation is now in the works.  Eichenseer has also launched a Franz Xaver von Schönwerth Society to promote the study of the long forgotten historian.

While Schönwerth's significant contribution to German history is being restored, I'm looking forward to the illustrated edition of the pond-girl and the witch story.