If bibliomania is a mental disorder, it’s one of the best mental disorders!
I remember seeing this book by Nicholas A. Basbanes on my mom’s shelves when I was growing up. It always caught my eye because the jacket has this beautiful gold-on-black design and I always thought it looked like it belonged in the library of some great estate, which of course has always been my dream.
But as a kid I was more intrigued by fantasy, historical fiction, and the classics than by nonfiction. Nonfiction was for school.
It wasn’t until after my mom died and I took this book home with me that I finally had a chance to read it.
It’s fascinating!
The subtitle is, “Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books.”
It starts with a history of books, going back even before the invention of the printing press. It talks about how people collected scrolls and handwritten manuscripts, sometimes with certain copiers being more in demand than others. You can imagine how thrilled those copiers were at the prospect of being put out of business by the printing press.
From there, the book goes on to describe a number of wealthy European gentlemen who acquired and maintained large libraries. I don’t know why this one sticks out to me, but there was one guy who decided the right number of books for a gentleman’s library was 3,000 books. Once he had 3,000 books, every time he bought a new book, he would get rid of one. And he kept them all arranged by size, so he had to keep reordering them every time he bought a new book and discarded an old one.
While there’s no denying most book collectors were the wealthy ones, there are also a few instances (possibly apocryphal) of poor men spending their last dime on a book instead of food, and being perfectly happy with their purchase.
When it gets to the 19th century, the book turns to America and pretty much stays there for the rest of the book, which is considerable. I have to believe there were people voraciously collecting books in Europe, especially since there are a number of references made to professional book buyers and book brokers having to make trips to Europe to acquire certain materials for their clients. There was, apparently, also an outcry over historical European texts leaving Europe and crossing the Atlantic to come to this country full of barbarians, and I can’t say I blame them for being upset. I’d probably be upset, too, in their situation.
I did find the discussion around “what makes a collection” interesting because I had never thought about it before. I figured if you had a lot of books (especially if you’re like me and you can’t stop yourself from buying more books, no matter how overstuffed your shelves) you’re a collector.
And, while some people agree with that position, others are adamant that it can only be considered a “true” collection if it has a focus.
There was a woman who collected children’s books.
There were people who collected books by and about a certain author.
There were people who collected books only about America.
But some of these could get tricky, because, when you’re focusing on an author, it soon gets to the point where the collector is no longer satisfied with just the books by and about their author. They also needed their correspondence.
People collecting books about America, soon found that got out of hand, because how do you define America? To limit it within the bounds of the current country would be to ignore the influence of our Canadian friends to the north or our Mexican frenemies to the south.
There was the story of the University of Texas’s determination to build a library rivalling that of Harvard or Yale (and succeeding!)
Last, but certainly not least, is the story of a man who stole tens of thousands (if not millions) of dollars worth of books from various libraries all over the country. I won’t get into the details, because they are many (enough to take up a whole chapter,) but it’s absolutely fascinating and I highly recommend you read this book if you consider yourself a bibliophile.