Coming to auction later this week is a neat little relic of President Abraham Lincoln's life--or more accurately, his death. The fragment of wallpaper was removed from the back bedroom of the rowhouse across the street from Ford's Theatre where Lincoln breathed his last, and laid into a book called Words of Lincoln (1895) with the note, "Taken from the all of the room in which Lincoln died. 516 10th St. Washington D.C."
The book's author, Osborn H. Oldroyd (1842-1930), was a Civil War sergeant and a famous collector of Lincoln memorabilia; a biography of him published in 1927 is subtitled Founder and Collector of Lincoln Mementos. Oldroyd amassed a large collection of Lincolniana, first displayed at Lincoln's home in Springfield, Illinois, but relocated to the Petersen House, aka the house where Lincoln died, in 1893. He and his family bunked there too.
The auctioneers, Addison & Sarova of Macon, Georgia, estimate the wallpaper snippet will sell for $2,000-3,000.
Incidentally, the University of Chicago houses a substantial Lincoln-Oldroyd collection. You can read more about Oldroyd and the Petersen House here.
Image courtesy of Addison & Sarova.
In 1964, gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson visited Ernest Hemingway's last home in Ketchum, Idaho, where the novelist had shot himself three years earlier. Thompson was working on an essay, titled "What Lured Hemmingway to Ketchum," investigating the draw of Idaho on Hemingway toward the end of his life. The young Thompson, however, "got caught up in the moment" according to his widow, Anita Thompson, and stole a set of elk antlers that hung over Hemingway's front door.
It was a decision that Thompson would later regret. Anita said that he was "very embarrassed" by his actions. The two made some tentative plans to quietly return the antlers, but never quite got around to it. In the meantime, the antlers hung for 53 years in Thompson's garage at his home in Woody Creek, Colorado.
Fast forward to 2016, with Thompson himself dead for the past eleven years from a self-inflicted gun wound. Anita Thompson decided this past week to finally return the elk antlers to the Hemingway home. Anita got in touch with the Hemingway family, then delivered the antlers back to the Hemingway home in Ketchum, which is now owned by The Nature Conservancy. The Hemingway family had "heard rumors" about the antlers' disappearance and were pleased to have them back.
An Instagram photo from The Aspen Times in Ketchum shows the happy reunion:
David Mitchell's 2004 novel, Cloud Atlas, skyrocketed here in the states after the film adaptation starring Tom Hanks and Halle Berry was released in 2012. Now it's making headlines again. A British professor has uncovered multiple textual differences between the UK edition, published by Sceptre, and the US edition, published by Modern Library.
In "You have to keep track of your changes," an article published on the Open Library of Humanities last week, Martin Paul Eve of Birkbeck, University of London, begins with a discussion of textual permanence in the digital age, citing recent Amazon e-book issues. He goes on:
"Similarly, a comparison of the North-American digital edition of David Mitchell's genre- and time- hopping novel, Cloud Atlas (2004), with the UK version conjures forth a fresh set of anxieties about literary production. For it quickly emerges that the texts are very different and that readers of Cloud Atlas based in the US are likely to encounter a novel that stands starkly apart from that bearing the same title in the UK."
Eve's discovery is quite significant for literary scholars and book historians as well as for casual readers who might enjoy the challenge of spotting the variants themselves. Collectors of Mitchell will also now be attuned to the variation. As Mitchell explained to Eve, the textual discrepancies are the result of mis-management between publishers--some substantial changes made by UK editors were never shared with stateside counterparts. That may mean the US edition is closer in content to Mitchell's original manuscript.
Which version of the text then has priority, or is "definitive"? Mitchell told the Guardian, "...in the case of Cloud Atlas, both work. Not that I have the faintest memory, after all these years, what the differences even are."
Image at top: UK edition, via Sceptre.
Image at bottom: US edition, via Modern Library.
Dust jacket for Madeline and the Bad Hat. photo credit: Wikimedia
The cosmos must be sending out veggie vibes to bibliophiles these days--after last week's story on Bill Dailey's collection of antiquarian vegetarian cookbooks comes another, slightly mischievous argument to go meat-free: on August 25 PBA Galleries in San Francisco will auction an original illustration from Ludwig Bemelmans' Madeline and the Bad Hat. This charming signed ink and watercolor painting dates from 1956 and is the original illustration that Bemelmans reproduced for the third volume of his beloved Madeline series.
The illustration "He Built Himself a Guillotine " depicts Madeline's recently arrived neighbor Pepito--the "bad hat" of the tale--about to commit poultricide in the name of gastronomy. Pepito and his chef are preparing the family chickens for that day's meal while Madeline and her friends tearfully witness the imminent carnage from their window perch next door. To put it bluntly, this kid is a total brat, and his shenanigans test the limits of Madeline's patience. Pepito continues to torture helpless creatures until one of his plans backfires. While Pepito convalesces, Madeline convinces him to change course, and the reformed animal bully becomes a vegetarian. Some readers consider Madeline and the Bad Hat controversial--depictions of animal cruelty aren't so hip these days--but like many bad boys before him, Pepito sees the error of his ways and vows to become a better person.
Lightly worn with evidence of prior framing, this lot is accompanied by a signed copy of the first trade edition of the book. Bids will open at $20,000.
For more information and to view images of the painting, visit http://www.pbagalleries.com/view-auctions/catalog/id/395/lot/125650/
Chicken for every pot. photo credit: BB Richter
Our Bright Young Booksellers series continues today with Tom Kiser, proprietor of Vivarium Books in Saint Paul, Minnesota:
How did you get started in rare books?
I was 15 and a freshman in high school when I read The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, who incidentally died this year. In fact, the English translation appeared the year I was born. On Nicollet Island in downtown Minneapolis, teachers at my Lasallian high school were introducing me to history, philosophy and theology, strange interests for a 15 year old but it probably kept me out of trouble. I can't really explain but often attempt to try: Eco was a rare book collector, postmodernist and medievalist - a combination that I find original and interesting - and viewed books I think primarily as things that aid in the investigation of reality while at the same time sort of take on a life of their own. I like to interpret this life as residing in the mind, where they speak and interact with other books through the process of cognition. Like a scientist, I view the past as a guide in peeling back the layers of reality and books to me are primarily explorative aids with intrinsic appeal. When I step into the right library, it is as it was when Br. William of Baskerville and his novice Adso discovered the book labyrinth in the fictional Aedificium, or when Samwell Tarly is granted access to the maester's library in Game of Thones. I get the feeling that it contains the answers, hidden away, that I need. Eco's inspiration for this 14th century library was in fact the Fisher Rare Book Library in Toronto, a place I had a chance to visit years later while on a book buying trip. A search for a rare book is similar to a search for answers as we work our way through life from birth to death. Possessing a book is like possessing the knowledge it contains, and sometimes new knowledge is created between two or more books.
Completely unconscious of this, I did a BA-History in 2006 at a Benedictine university that is adjacent to a large monastic enclosure in a wooded area of central Minnesota. I chose this place in part because underground the university stores the world's largest repository of medieval manuscript images and also contains a world-class rare book collection. I interned there vis-à-vis a Greco-Roman study abroad program where I worked my interest in things medieval, monastic and their intersection with books. My big break came when I got a job as a cataloger and later a buyer for the world's largest secondhand theological bookseller with a reputation for dealing in medieval studies. Back then, it was set in a beautiful old church in a river town nearby where I grew up. I can easily recall shivering in the dim lighting after closing, in the dark, wood creaking under my feet, smelling nearby bon fires, absorbing it all night after night. It was then that I noticed a knack for memorizing titles and authors and bindings. While I was working through a graduate degree in library science, I had exposure to some aspects of the trade (including rare books and rarer people), exposure I still use to provide myself with food, shelter, and a decent argument for my own existence.
When did you open Vivarium and what do you specialize in?
That's a really pertinent question given where I am in the evolution of Vivarium. As an upstart, I used my background from school and work in a theological bookstore. It allowed me to deal with some authority in topics like church history, scholastic philosophy, patristics, and related fields like archaeology. My concentration has always been religious thought from the ancient to medieval period in academic, collectible and rare form, a broad niche closely related to my primary interest of monasticism and its role in the propagation of learning through the development of the codex. This gave my business a theme to draw inspiration from, allowed me to work with what I love, and, thanks to experience, a reliable financial situation was produced. Now I am concerned with expansion.
I opened my online-only shop in 2010 as an already eight-year veteran of poverty. I had a box of books from a friend (no joke) who normally steers people away from bookselling, no savings, a small family loan (too small) that funded my first buying trip to French Canada, and too much college debt, but I did have some relevant experience, connections, institutional access and a working business plan that only needed to be re-tooled about twenty times (I'm probably retooling it right now). This lifted me out of poverty and into the middle class during the recession, although not nearly as quickly as I would have liked. It was worth it because I want to make a living leaving my mark on the world doing something I love. This also allows me to feel like I am discovering my limits and potential, which is priceless. Now that it's getting somewhere, I'm looking at my next goal of diversifying outside of my niche. It helps that I value learning. I'll rely on that and the valuable expertise of trusted people when expanding into the unknown, sort of the way explorers used to use local guides. I'll never stop learning and exploring. Long term (subject to life's twists and turns) I want to create a bookstore that is a refuge for seekers like myself, really all lovers of learning, on a scenic property that is open by appointment. In the spirit of the middle ages, I want to preserve and disseminate all sacred and natural arts and sciences while staying connected to my core competency. People can help simply by doing business with me, but especially by referrals to individuals or institutions looking to downsize or expand their book collections.
The original Vivarium was a Roman villa turned monastery in the dark ages. There, monks consolidated and copied endangered books from around the dying Roman Empire as it was being subjected to repeated invasions. In this way they left their small mark on the course of humanity. Later monks became copyists on a massive scale, playing the important social role of preserving and disseminating knowledge. They helped to stabilize the intellectual crisis caused by the invasions and brought light to darkness. Once again, the liberal arts that were a hallmark of ancient learning were taught to groups, only this time in monastic schools at places like Fulda, Bobbio and Corbie. Were it not for these events, ancient thought may not have survived the turbulent Middle Ages, allowing it to develop into our modern reality. I think that concept of preservation on its head is in conformity with the ethos of booksellers today. So here I am. I strive to be conscientious and very careful with the patrimony associated with books I source from institutions and private individuals. Occasionally I save books and entire collections (once an ethnic heritage situation) from peril. Right now I am relocating a small library to the Italian town of Norcia, where it will be used in an institute that works on dialogue between the Roman Catholic and Orthodox Churches. I only wish I could be there for it all.
What do you love about the book trade?
I like that it exists. I like that it allows me to share my interests with the world. I am glad to be a part of a trade that has survived, and even thrived in some places despite Amazon and its warehouses, print-on-demand, mass digitization and the various alliances of these forces. I like that it's survived itself, to be honest, with an enormous amount of credit due to organizations like the ABAA, ILAB, IOBA, and inclusive, non-competitive learning environments like CABS, YABS, and Rare Book School that have all been around for years. Interestingly, I've noticed supply and demand being generated by skilled dealers and skilled collectors coming together. I also like small business and think it has an important role to play in the economy.
Describe a typical day for you:
I need to be in more than one place at a given time. Shipping and cataloging are supposed to be the most regular, but I'm often forced to hold off on cataloging and then binge on it. I'm involved in 4-5 book buying projects remotely at any given time. Now that the foundational 10,000 books have been sourced, bought, catalogued and mostly paid for I am finding time for development. I hang out at my local coffee shop and do social media, work on catalogues, reach out to other booksellers, watch auctions, look for ways to expand my selection, dwell on cataloging rare books, and lately work on Vivarium's non-existing website. I have found ways to not have to do all of this myself but in reality I'm always behind. I do spend time daydreaming about building a space for my store and how my books would be arranged. I almost think it would be easier designing and building than searching for the perfect pre-existing space.
Favorite rare book (or ephemera) that you've handled?
Easy. I held a stunning illuminated medieval manuscript in folio, MS Bergendal 1, by Bernardo Gui (the Dominican Inquisitor embellished in Eco's The Name of the Rose) located at the Pontifical Institute for Mediaeval Studies at Toronto. This copy was presented by Gui himself to his ally Pope John XXII in the late 1320s. The primary illumination on the first leaf depicts Gui handing the book to the pope who at that time was in Avignon. As far as commercial handling, it would be something I just acquired: the best book on medieval Christian ritual, the Rationale Divinorum Officiorum written by Durandus, written before 1286. It is a Giunta imprint from 1551 which belonged to a famous 20th century German scholar of liturgy. I have the book this liturgist wrote in my personal library so that provenance is significant to me. There are also collections. Earlier this year Vivarium handled a gorgeous leather collection of Migne's Patrologia Latina and Graeca numbering almost 400 volumes. This was sourced in Quebec. Earlier I mentioned the collection headed for Norcia.
What do you personally collect?
Monasticism, bibliography/history of the book, medieval studies (philosophy, science, theology etc.), Aristotle, liturgical books, Crusades, Middle East, Byzantium, Eastern Christianity (lately Syriac), Roman Catholicism, paganism, librariana, medieval manuscript facsimiles, -- sort of a mirror image of my store but not nearly as scholarly. Most of it was formed with credit I had from my previous employer. If I were to pick a serious area to move forward with it would be monasticism, but I've been selling what I find.
What do you like to do outside of work?
Nature, swimming, music, learning (lately astronomy), photography, road trips, coffee shops, craft beer (IPA), snowboarding, concerts, bonfires, and thinking. I like the idea of writing (ha).
Thoughts on the present state and/or future of the rare book trade?
On the trade: I am impressed with the ABAA and ILAB and hope to apply when I'm ready. CABS was great. I have to give an internet high-five to the IOBA for connecting me with a lot of relevant information that I wouldn't have otherwise had. Many of those members are all over this trade and work very hard.
On books: I think books are superior to digital in almost every way and I say that as a digital native. I totally understand not everybody thinks that and particular circumstances vary, but it's indisputable that in digital times print can feel luxurious. As for me, I have grown as a person from good libraries and bookstores as cultural centers in a way that I am not able to do digitally. There is something about being able to physically maneuver about a library or collection with the ability to see and touch everything that I hope we don't lose sight of. These experiences add zest to my life and improve me as an individual. Also there is collecting. For those who are into it, books provide the insight we need about topics we care deeply about while simultaneously they act to express who we are and what is important to us. When I visit someone's home or office, the first thing I do is look at the bookshelf to see if I can gain an impression of what they like. Bonus points are always allotted for nice editions, signed copies, etc. If we need to express ourselves with material possessions, I think books are a very good option.
Any upcoming fairs or catalogues?
I recently put out a comprehensive catalogue I personally liked entitled Byzantine Art: Origins to Aftermath. It can be found here. I am now putting one together on late medieval and Renaissance art, and I wholeheartedly intend to do my first rare and antiquarian after that, being hyper-aware of what they say about good intentions. In the meantime I encourage people to follow Vivarium Books on Facebook. As far as fairs, I haven't made it out yet because my goals have been elsewhere, but recently I did make a return to the International Medieval Congress (there is a book fair attached) where I found new friends, rekindled old relationships, met in person with individuals who I have helped remotely, and in general just scoped out the scene. It was fun to attend to attend as a drifter with no work to do and to write off all the expenses while supporting a great organization. I hope to do recon at other events and look forward to meeting other booksellers.
I can't put my finger on why, but I like "thumb bible" as a bibliographic term. Which is why I was delighted to see a selection of them slated for auction next week at PBA Galleries.
What is a thumb bible? In short, it is a condensed version of the bible, printed in a miniature format (less than 3"), popular in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The phrase may derive from a French edition, Bible du Petit Poucet, published c. 1800. Typically thumb bibles feature some illustration, however crude, as they were made to appeal to children.
Proffered within a collection of 500 miniature books from the Lilliput Oval Saloon of Tokyo, here are a few neat examples of thumb bibles:
Lot 66: A bible in English, printed in London in 1775 and bound in period full calf. This copy retains twelve of the original fourteen plates. The estimate is $600-900.
Lot 69: A 256-page miniature bible printed in London in 1780 and bound in period olive green morocco, complete with all fourteen engraved plates. The estimate is $1,000-1,500. 
Lot 73: This thumb bible, printed in Coventry c. 1795 and bound in period full sheep, is "scarce," according to PBA. The estimate is $700-1,000.
The Provencal house of James Baldwin, the African American novelist and essayist who died in 1987, has been purchased by a real estate development company with plans to convert the house into luxury condos. The company has already demolished two wings of the 17th-century house, which had become dilapidated in recent years. American novelist Shannon Cain, based in Paris, has launched a last-ditch fight to save the house and realize Baldwin's original hope of turning the house into a writers' colony.
Baldwin, who spent his formative years in Harlem, emigrated to France when he was 24 years old to flee American prejudice against African Americans and gays. After initially living in Paris and immersing himself in Left Bank culture, Baldwin purchased his home in the Provencal village Saint-Paul-de-Vence in 1970. For the next 17 years, until his death at 63 from stomach cancer, Baldwin was a beloved member of the local community. Baldwin also entertained many famous African American authors and artists at his house, including Miles Davis, Nina Simone, and Ray Charles.
After Baldwin's death in 1987, a dispute over the ownership of the house resulted in a loss for the Baldwin estate and the house has since been sold three times including most recently by the real estate company with redevelopment plans.
When Shannon Cain learned about the intentions for the Baldwin house, she launched a campaign to preserve it. She squatted in the house for 10 days in an attempt to prevent further demolition. Cain also launched a campaign website where she states, "the plan is the same as it's been from the outset - to work with the ministry of culture to seize the house on the grounds that historic preservation laws were violated, and if that plan fails to raise the money to purchase the house from the developer."
The Baldwin estate has successfully prevented Cain from using Baldwin's name in her campaign, which she has instead labeled "His House in Provence."
[Image of Baldwin in his Saint-Paul-de-Vence from Wikipedia]
Last week the Library of Congress announced its full slate of authors confirmed for this year's National Book Festival on September 24. They include: 
"Civil rights legend and graphic novelist Rep. John Lewis, NBA superstar Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Caldecott Award-winning artist and writer Jerry Pinkney, renowned documentarian Ken Burns, New Yorker writer Calvin Trillin, rising star Yaa Gyasi, bestselling thriller writer Harlan Coben, Mexican novelist Álvaro Enrigue, historian Candice Millard, best-selling novelist Kristin Hannah, New Yorker cultural critic Adam Gopnik, Moroccan-born novelist Laila Lalami and two-time Newbery Medal winner Lois Lowry."
Oh, and Stephen King will open the main stage in a ticketed event to honor his lifelong promotion of literacy. Check out the festival's website for a full schedule of events.
This year's poster, pictured here, has also been released. It was designed by award-winning Japanese illustrator Yuko Shimizu. Image: Courtesy of the Library of Congress.
In more civilized times, proponents of a meatless regime adhered to the "Pythagorean diet" championed by that Greek sixth century B.C. philosopher, who, in addition to figuring out the square of the hypotenuse, believed that all living beings had souls, and it was wrong to eat them. Pythagoras wasn't big on beans, either, convinced that legumes were created from the same material as humans.
And since ancient times, people have codified both what to eat and why in cookbooks, pamphlets, and treatises. Now, visitors to the Lilly Library at Indiana University, Bloomington, may examine the fascinating and sometimes eccentric printed history of vegetarianism in the exhibition Eat Your Vegetables! Five Centuries of Vegetarianism and the Printed Word. While surveying the history of the movement, the show also celebrates the meatless ethos in print from the sixteenth century through the 1960s.
Reproduced with permission of the Lilly Library. Photo Credit: Zachary T. Downey
Head librarian Joel Silver curated the exhibit, drawing primarily from the collection of antiquarian bookseller (and Indiana native) William Dailey. "The university acquired Bill's material a few years ago--we're still working on a full-scale catalog--but in the meantime we wanted to do an exhibition of a selection of pieces from his collection, which is close to 1,000 unique items," Silver said.
"I started collecting in 1970," Dailey explained. "I made 1967 the cutoff date for my collection because that was the year I stopped eating meat. I loved that there wasn't a lot of competition for this kind of material, and I think the scope of my collection is pretty rare in the book world." Though a pescatarian these days, Dailey remains well known in antiquarian book circles for his no-meat lifestyle, and at one point his car could be identified on the road by the vanity plate "LEGUME." Dailey's material complements the library's already formidable gastronomic collection, assembled largely by Hoosier benefactors Dr. and Mrs. John Talbot Gernon.
Reproduced with permission of the Lilly Library. Photo Credit: Zachary T. Downey
Vegetarianism has had a long cultural, historical, and literary influence. "Frankenstein was a vegetarian," Silver reminded me, and many writers like Mary Shelley, Franz Kafka, and George Bernard Shaw abstained from meat.
Reproduced with permission from the Lilly Library. Photo Credit: Zachary T. Downey
One of the show's high spots includes a printed first edition of the earliest published treatise on vegetarianism, De Abstinentia ab esu Animalium, Libri Quatuor (On Abstinence from Animal Food), by Porphyry (234-305). The show also highlights material by American vegetarians and food reformers like Upton Sinclair, whose papers are housed at the Lilly, John Harvey Kellogg, and Sylvester Graham.
Silver, a lifelong vegetarian himself, noted the health benefits of a life without meat: "Sinclair experimented with many diets and lived to be ninety years old, and Kellogg lived to be ninety-one. They must have been on to something."
Eat Your Vegetables! Five Centuries of Vegetarianism and the Printed Word runs from now until September 10 at the Lilly Library at Indiana University. More information may be found at https://libraries.indiana.edu/eat-your-vegetables-five-centuries-vegetarianism-and-printed-word
An exhibit on the Nuclear Age at the Mansfield Library at the University of Montana received an unexpected windfall when a forgotten box full of Cold War biscuits and candies was discovered during renovations.
"We've been planning this exhibit for over a year, and then to find out that there was this sort of bonanza of Cold War materials hidden in Aber Hall was absolutely perfect!" said librarian Susanne Caro in a press statement.
The Cold War foodstuffs were commonly stored in personal fallout shelters around the country and were expected to have a shelf life of approximately five years. The box of material found at the library, therefore, should have expired sometime around 1967. Library staff took a bite anyway, reporting that a Cold War biscuit tasted "like a stale graham cracker with a hint of vanilla in it. It could be far worse."
The foodstuffs will go on display with a variety of books, ephemera, and other materials related to the nuclear war scares in the early 1960s.
The exhibit, entitled Duck and Cover! Fact and Fiction of the Nuclear Age, is viewable on the main floor of the Mansfield Library at the University of Montana in Missoula.
[Image from the exhibit]
