I am a fan of books in their original state. I guess that's why I have the bug to collect first editions. The first edition captures something else that later printings don't. There is something about holding and reading a book in it's first state available to the public. You feel more connected to the author and to the time in which it was published. It is exciting to find that first edition of Gilead by Marilynne Robinson or the signed first edition of A Time to Heal by President Gerald R. Ford. But the feeling is not quite so strong as when you are holding an antiquarian first edition. When you pick up a book published in 1858 or 1678 and browse the pages you go back in time. You're holding a piece of history.
Unfortunately, the price of said antiquarian books is prohibitive for most. Or maybe the availability is very limited. Typically, the price and commonality of a book are inversely correlated. So what do you do? Your desire to see and hold these books can be sated by visiting a local used book seller, or if you're lucky enough there may be a rare book room in your local library. But that's not quite like having the real thing on your shelf. Without resorting to crime the easiest way to obtain a copy of one of these books is a reproduction or facsimile. While this also is not anything close to owning the real thing, it's closer than a paperback version or modern translation.
At the book sale I recently attended I got my hands on four reproductions. They were produced by two publishing houses, Scholars' Facsimiles & Reprints and Gale Research Company, in the late 60's and early 70's. All four happened to be bound in green cloth, hence the name of this post. Although, as stated before, this isn't quite like owning the real thing, it still allows me to read the words as they were originally published; as they were originally intended to reach their audience (here I will eschew the discussion of author's intent versus publisher's intent). I can also observe the historical publishing practices, as the words and layout are reproduced exactly. And perhaps most charming, I can see the inconsistency with which words were spelled in times past. All of these things help me to appreciate and enjoy what I'm reading and collecting all the more.
I love how delightfully myopic such books can be. Whilst researching my Lepanto game, came across all kinds of fun fascimiles from authors with topics so narrow as to befuddle description. :)
ReplyDeleteI love that up until about the 19th century, you were thought very clever if you could spell a word in more ways than one! :)
ReplyDeleteI like the green of these books - and I read a facsimile of Jane Austen's "History of England" (She spoofed her history textbook when she was 16) that was just fascinating. Loved it.
"(here I will eschew the discussion of author's intent versus publisher's intent). "
ReplyDeleteBless you.
Hey Dave, if you're at all interested, there's a company that produces facsimiles of George MacDonald's works (also in green cloth). We have three books from them and they're **gorgeous**, with any original artwork that was present as well as the original type face.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.johannesen.com/
And I'm a huge fan of smelly old books myself. Sometimes they're not prohibitively expensive, as long as they're not super popular texts...I have a book of English Poetry from 1894 that was under $20...but most of the worthwhile books are expensive...
While I do not have the fanatical "bug" to collect much of anything (not even movies), I certainly appreciate the allure of old books. There is a connection, an existential wormhole, when two moments in space and time are drawn together when handling a book that has been handled by others over long periods.
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