Anton Gerits. Books, Friends, and Bibliophilia: Reminiscences of an Antiquarian Bookseller.
Gordon-Craig, Chris
Anton Gerits. Books, Friends, and Bibliophilia: Reminiscences of an
Antiquarian Bookseller. New Castle, Del.: Oak Knoll Press, 2004. 412
pp.; US $65.00. ISBN 1584561386.
Dutch book dealer Anton Gerits began his long career in 1950 with
the distinguished old firm of Martinus Nijhoff Limited in The Hague,
which then had "between 100 and 150 employees," and eventually
retired from his own business, A. Gerits and Son b.v., in Amsterdam in
1996. In the course of that long but fast moving period of social and
cultural change, he opened up innumerable contacts and possibilities in
the antiquarian book trade, not just within European circles, but in
Prague, where he "appeared to be one of the first, if not the very
first dealer from the West who tried to buy old books behind the Iron
Curtain." He developed a considerable export trade to Japanese
university libraries, and became a major supplier of books from Europe
to overseas institutions. An inquiring traveller, he enriched his
outlook by observing at firsthand the personalities and manners of the
different societies in which he found himself. As a retrospective record
of his life, Books, Friends, and Bibliophilia is an absorbing overview
of the relationship of books to the human condition.
Gerits's abiding passion, of course, is the printed word,
which to him is more than type on paper, it is the "bearer of
information." As well as old books, one of his specialities was the
area of antiquarian periodicals, brochures, journals, pamphlets, and
tracts, and his reminiscence is crammed with titles of occasionally
slightly obscure items. While some of these exceptional rarities may not
be familiar to the average bibliophile, Gerits succeeds in convincing us
why they are important, and effectively manages to convey his enthusiasm
at each new discovery. Research and the accurate description of books
are vital, he believes, not just to assess the completeness and
bibliographical place of a volume, but to appreciate its context and
origins. Here his approval of "a really civilized buyer" is
allied to his fundamental concept of the "recognition of how
important an antiquarian bookseller [can] be for a scholar." In his
view, the ideal book dealer offers "expertise and integrity,"
and he recalled one instance when an academic "acted as if it would
be preferable that an antiquarian bookseller not know when he was
holding a rare printed book in his hands, as if that had to be the
privilege of book historians and librarians only." Although Gerits
suggests that "academics probably envy the freedom, independence,
and adventurous life of the antiquarian bookseller," he maintains
firmly that "Knowledgeable antiquarian booksellers" understand
their market, should not be disparaged as mere "businessmen,"
and their advice should be trusted.
With its wealth of references to specific sales, the book is
thoroughly engrossing. For example, the National Library in Ottawa paid
US $34,000 in 1969 for a music collection of "nearly 20,000 pieces
published between 1825 and 1914." In 1966 the University of Western
Ontario purchased "a complete set" of the Journal
encyclopedique par une societe de gens de lettres for US $11,340. The
"central library of the University of Minnesota" acquired a
very rare series of volumes for US $20,500 which "for a number of
years ... were stored secretly in one of the basements" until a
particular director retired.
From his considerable experience, Gerits provides many useful hints
to those considering a life in bookselling, and particularly the pros
and cons of working for a large company as against the independence of
self-employment. But perhaps his most pertinent observations are about
the changes in the book trade itself, beyond those introduced by
microformats and electronic technology. Administrative costs--tariffs,
shipping and packing, administration, catalogue production--rose to
threaten small booksellers who lacked the resources of large companies.
The nature of private collections changed, restricting the availability
of material. The institutional market shrank with "smaller and
smaller budgets for rare books." Professional librarians became
overwhelmed by administration: "meetings, automation, and reports
increasingly kept them away from reading catalogues and buying
books." In turn this preoccupation with bureaucracy affected
purchasing procedures by university libraries. The blanket ordering
system was no longer left to an independent bookseller, but became
complicated by an "approval plan" which in Gerits's
opinion "began to be handled not by knowledgeable librarians but
rather by inexperienced (and cheaper) administrative staff." The
note of frustration comes through clearly: "The librarian as a
collector ... had been forced to make way for the librarian as a
manager." Later he added, "the trade had become in my view a
merchant dealing with an administrative unit."
All these constraints cut heavily into the rime needed for the true
bookseller to do his or her proper work efficiently. Yet Gerits wrote
disingenuously, "I have never had the sense of working extremely
hard." What is clear is that he had astounding energy, coupled with
a definite flair that emerges in story after story of his coups. He
played down the role of luck as "being alert and regarding the work
you have to do not as work but as a passion," but this only
reinforces the impression we gain of his enterprising and tenacious
ability, eye for opportunity, and brilliant grasp of trends.
Gerits can be forthright in his convictions and not all will agree
with some of them. Laws restricting the export of antiquarian books as
cultural treasures he thinks are "an anachronism" and have
"harmed the legal trade," arguing that if the material is
maintained in proper conservation its varied locations allow greater
access, and offset the risk of disaster. He also thinks that
"collectors and librarians are inclined to have more confidence in
what comes from far away, rather than in what is near at hand." But
his chatty style quickly draws us into this fascinating mix of insights
as we warm sympathetically to the gentle, cultured personality revealed
unselfconsciously behind it.
CHRIS GORDON-CRAIG
University of Alberta
