At last, a way to gauge one's level of bibliomania: What would you give to own a copy of A.S. Byatt's Possession inscribed by the author to Nicholas Basbanes? Or, Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose, inscribed to the man who brought book collecting into the mainstream? How about Alberto Manguel's A History of Reading inscribed to the author of eight books on reading, writing, and collecting books?

These three association copies, and more than six hundred other modern first editions, all inscribed to Basbanes, are being offered en bloc by Lux Mentis Booksellers in Portland, Maine.  

Most readers hardly need an introduction to Nick Basbanes. He has been, since the publication of A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books in 1995, the book world's foremost expert on bibliophilia, as well as FB&C's featured columnist. Prior to that, Basbanes was book review editor and literary columnist for the Worcester (Massachusetts) Telegram & Gazette from 1978 to 1991 and a freelance reviewer and writer from 1991 to 2000. It was during these years that Basbanes interviewed scores of authors. In the introduction to the sale catalogue for the collection of association copies, Basbanes writes that asking each author to sign a book for him "was central to my transformation from an impassioned reader who already loved books for their content into a bibliophile who treasured them as material objects."

Two of the inscribed books recall a lighthearted rivalry between Annie Dillard and Roy Blount, Jr. Basbanes had met with the two writers on the same day. Blount had inscribed, "It's nice to be able to discuss the concept of raunchiness with you just before you get to Annie Dillard." To which Dillard "replied" in her inscription: "...with all best wishes after a jolly old time at the Ritz-Carleton on the day of his talk with slightly more raunchy Roy Blount Jr."

Some of the authors he interviewed more than once (and so he collected more than one title), including Margaret Atwood, Harold Bloom, James Lee Burke, Pat Conroy, Michael Crichton, Louise Erdrich, P.D. James, Norman Mailer, David McCullough, and Maurice Sendak. He has a few Updikes too, one of which is inscribed "For Nick, the bibliophia expert," and a few from Joseph Heller, who referred to Basbanes as "an old and welcome friend."

All of the books are in very good to fine condition, and some even include a bit of publishing ephemera--review slips, press releases, publicity photos. It is, as Basbanes describes it, "a snap-shot of the literary scene of the day as it unfolded."

The price for the collection is available upon request from Lux Mentis.

Images courtesy of Nick Basbanes.

Today marks the 75th anniversary of the publication of John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. The novel, which traces the Joad family's journey from Oklahoma to California during the Depression, won both the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize. The National Steinbeck Center (NSC) in Salinas, California, plans to celebrate with a three-day festival next month. Events include an "Opening Night Speakeasy" and various talks and tours.

Last fall, the NSC sponsored a migration reenactment in which a team of artists traveled along Route 66, presenting programs and collecting oral histories related to The Grapes of Wrath and its themes. (An article in our spring issue interviews two participants.) A documentary by P.J. Palmer about that experience will premiere at the May festival.

Image: Courtesy of NSC. 

Today is the official pub date for The Morbid Anatomy Anthology, a lavish 500-page book of essays edited by Joanna Ebenstein and Colin Dickey. The book was funded through a Kickstarter campaign in which 1,319 backers pledged $46,338 to ensure its publication (disclosure: I was one of them). Curators, writers, and artists contributed articles on a range of eccentric topics, including books bound in human skin, the catacombs of Palermo, and "artist of death" Frederik Ruysch, some of which had been previously presented as lectures at Brooklyn's Morbid Anatomy Library. A book release party will be held on April 26.

You can get a copy of the anthology through the Morbid Anatomy gift shop, or by supporting for $25 or more a new campaign to help build their new museum space. You can also read more about the Morbid Anatomy Library & Museum in our spring issue.

Image: Courtesy of Morbid Anatomy.

"Migrant," by José Mateo, illustrated by Javier Martínez Pedro; Abrams Books for Young Readers, $17.95, 22 pages, ages 10 and up. 

Over 5.5 million children of illegal immigrants live in the United States whose stories go largely undocumented. Migrant chronicles the tumultuous trek of a young Mexican boy who enters the United States with his mother and sister.  The border crossing is perilous, but the family arrives safely in Los Angeles. There the story ends, leaving readers to wonder what happens next - does the family stay in the United States, or are they deported? Does the boy speak English?  Author José Mateo says he kept the characters in Migrant anonymous because there are so many untold, complex tales of woe and desperation that hopes this story may speak for those without a voice.

Migrant is composed as a modern day codex, bound in an accordion foldout. The text is translated in English on one side and is in the original Spanish on the reverse. Read top to bottom, the text and illustrations recall the pre-Hispanic society that flourished in Mexico.

Award-winning artist and amate papermaker Javier Martínez Pedro rendered the images using pen and in. Reminiscent of ancient Mayan hieroglyphs, the throngs of anonymous people spiral down the foldout mural, descending from a life of relative calm into a world of uncertainty.  Pedro's art is on his own handmade amate paper, a product similar to papyrus and is only produced in the artist's village of Xalitla.  

The book beautifully demands a people's right to exist, and will no doubt incite readers to learn more about this situation taking place right on our doorstep. 

Six early Stephen King novels will be republished in deluxe special editions by the independent publisher Cemetery Dance. The move continues a long-term partnership between King and Cemetery Dance, who have already released several of the horror master's novels in special editions, beginning with "From a Buick 8" in 2002.

Guest Post by Catherine Batac-Walder

Nobel Prize winner Orhan Pamuk flew to the UK to talk about his life and writing at the invitation of the chancellor of the University of Oxford, Lord Patten of Barnes, for the chancellor's lecture in this year's Oxford Literary Festival, which ran from March 22-30. The chancellor's lecture has been presenting international literary figures, including the late great poet and fellow Nobel winner Seamus Heaney last year, an event I regret missing.

The Sunday Times ended its sponsorship of the festival after nearly ten years, and FT Weekend took over as the new title partner. The festival also went "ticketless." As a festival-goer since 2009, I was hesitant to attend this year, recalling that even last year's festival was not like what it used to be. Many had voiced their disappointment about the fact that there was no marquee and personally, I felt there was something celebratory about the marquee, and without it, it was as though there was nothing special going on. Having known only lovely spring festival days, last year, it rained when we were in Oxford, and there was no marquee to shelter us when, ironically, it was needed the most.

So when it was announced that a new marquee would be set up outside the Sheldonian Theatre, I was more than eager to come visit Sheldonian first when we arrived on Saturday, March 29. When we arrived, A.C. Grayling was about to have a book signing, but I hardly noticed as I was already drooling over signed editions of Michael Scott's Delphi. Canadian novelist, poet, and critic Margaret Atwood was also in town as she was the guest speaker at the closing festival dinner at the Great Hall of Christ Church (the one used as Hogwarts Hall in Harry Potter films) that night. The Atwood dinner was a black-tie event and obviously not appropriate for my three-year-old; besides, I knew it would coincide with the Pamuk event that I had already planned to attend.

Still six hours to wait before the chancellor's lecture, from Sheldonian we took the obligatory walk amongst the dreamy spires, to Christ Church and then to the river to watch the punts and pedalos. We took our daughter to Alice's shop, a.k.a. "The Old Sheep Shop" in Through the Looking Glass, a.k.a. the shop where the real Alice, Miss Liddell, used to buy sweets. It is tiny, always packed, and a major tourist trap, as we've found in previous visits. Nevertheless we are always drawn back like children who wouldn't mind being lost in a sweet shop. Our daughter was enthralled, recognizing each Alice in Wonderland character she saw on every item.

After afternoon tea, I headed back to Sheldonian Theatre on my own to listen to Pamuk. The chancellor introduced him and interviewer Jason Cowley, who used to edit Granta and is now the editor of New Statesman. While it was quite an experience to have been there in person, I must admit I've heard more interesting and in-depth interviews with Pamuk elsewhere. The jump across topics - politics, religion, life, books, among other things - was dizzying.

Somebody in the audience asked Pamuk a question related to translation: if we who do not read his work in Turkish are missing anything? For a man whose work is translated into 46 languages and whose primary task is to write, he said translation is such a "vast geography," and he could only check English, but he worked closely and went over the work carefully with his translators. "If we know you'd miss a joke (in Turkish) we did our best to supply another joke," he said. He explained further that there is that anxiety of being a bad writer in translation, "you definitely lose a bit, alliterations, jokes that depend on the nature and structure of the Turkish language." (It brought to mind a tea and chat I had with Sophie's World author Jostein Gaarder while a graduate student in Oslo. He said some readers do get angry about some things in his books, and it turned out he didn't even write them as the translation was not accurate.) But oh, to read Pamuk in the original Turkish!

There was also a question about his museum that opened two years ago, conceived when he was writing The Museum of Innocence. He said of it, "We have quite a number of visitors, the museum is doing fine, it's open except on Mondays, and if you happen to be in Istanbul, please visit." [Editor's note: the spring issue of FB&C contains an article on bookish Istanbul, featuring Pamuk's museum.]

As interesting as the many layers of stories in Pamuk's novels are, I am curious as to why some critics are not as interested in his lectures and nonfiction, which are the ones I like to explore. I brought two books of his with me -- he signed my copy of The Naïve and The Sentimental Novelist (Harvard University Press, 2010), and my copy of My Father's Suitcase (the Nobel lecture), one of only 1500 copies printed privately for Faber and Faber, is more precious now with his dedication in it. It is not every day when one gets to meet a Nobel Prize winner. It was nice to return to the festival after all.
    
     --Catherine Batac-Walder is a writer living in the UK. She has covered the Oxford Literary Festival for FB&C before, both in 2012 and 2013.

Images credit/copyright: Catherine Batac Walder.

I spent about seven hours on Friday at the NYABF, which did not allow enough time to see everything or everyone that I wished to, but I did get to see a lot of books and friends, old and new. It was busy, and overall, the dealers I spoke to were very happy with this year's traffic. Here are some of my highlights...

At William Reese Co., Teri Osborn and I had a laugh over this hand-colored frontispiece of The Art of Swimming, c. 1810-1820. So fascinated by the naked bather who is, strangely, trimming his nails while learning to swim (lower right corner), I nearly overlooked the pamphlet's famous author: Benjamin Franklin. Just a fascinating piece of Americana.   

As usual, the booth shared by Lux Mentis and Brian Cassidy was something to behold. A shrine to the odd and avant-garde, I found Lux's vintage condom packages very amusing -- the type of thing you don't expect to see at the best antiquarian book fair in the world, and yet, at Lux Mentis, it makes perfect sense within their "Sex, Death, and the Devil" theme. Brian Cassidy was kind enough to allow me to peruse Morrissey's rare biography of the New York Dolls.   

Priscilla Juvelis, who deals almost exclusively in contemporary book art, had a very busy fair. I was completely enamored by The Witches' Sabbath (2013) that she had sitting atop a glass exhibit case. It's a "witch's library," created by Sandra Jackman, that includes four unique artists' books and a book object which opens to reveal a spooky red silk interior, but also houses the books. A combination of collage, paint, and found objects, it's a beautiful and bizarre creation, and I envy whoever took that one home from the fair.  

What else? The William Bundy-annotated set of published Pentagon Papers at Seth Kaller would make for awesome reading. And speaking of Vietnam, I had the pleasure of meeting historic document dealer Stuart Lutz in person, whose personal Vietnam collection is vast; part of it is now on exhibit at the Lehigh Valley Heritage Museum. Extra points for Athena Rare Books, which had an innovative booth set-up, displaying images of the authors whose books were on offer.

Three small purchases were made (by my husband for "our" collection of nature classics): at Antipodean Books, a signed later edition of John Burroughs' Birds and Poems, and at Jerry N. Showalter, a first edition of Burroughs' Wake Robin, from the library of Bradley Martin. No new Thoreau for us this year, although the Excursions at B&B Rare Books was quite lovely.

On Saturday morning, we made a pilgrimage to Rizzoli, the 57th Street institution that will be closing on April 11 (and until then, books are 40% off). A little band of bibliophiles, including my husband, Brett, Jeremy Dibbell, Jeremy Howell, and I then made our way to Manhattan's famous Argosy bookshop, where I found a gruesome surgical book to add to my burgeoning collection, and then over to James Cummins Rare Books, where we were greeted by James the younger.

I returned home to find Simon Beattie's newest catalogue in my mailbox, and so the browsing and coveting continue.

Images: Swimming via William Reese; Lux Mentis c. Rebecca Rego Barry; Witches courtesy of Priscilla Juvelis; Athena booth c. Rebecca Rego Barry.

Capping off Rare Book Week on April 9, Doyle NY will offer this Babylonian cuneiform cylinder, estimated to bring $300,000-500,000. The clay cylinder describes the rebuilding of the Temple of Shamash by Nebuchadnezzar II and dates to c. 604-562 BC. At 8 1/4" in length, the auctioneer states that it is the largest example to come to market in recent times. For a private collector or an institution, it is an opportunity to own a unique piece of ancient history. It last exchanged hands in 1953.

Cuneiform is one of the earliest systems of writing, and this piece would have been prepared by a court scribe and then buried in the foundation of the restored temple to seal the relationship between the king and the gods. This record reads, in part, "NEBUCHADNEZZAR, King of Babylon, the Wise, the Provider, Favorite of Marduk, Sakkanakku of the lands of Sumer and Akkad, who established the foundation of the lands; the Venerated Ruler whom Marduk, the Great Lord, has chosen to renew the Holy Sanctuaries and maintain the cities as his calling: into whose hands Nebo, the Victorious Son gave the scepter of prosperity to extend the lands for Man's guidance; the understanding and reverent, the maintainer of E-sagila and E-zida; the first-born Son of Nabopolassar, King of Babylon am I."

Image via Doyle NY.