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(continued)
Today's market in collectible modern books is large and
diverse -- two essential characteristics of a healthy market.
There is great interest in high spots; there is a large
segment of the market devoted to "genre fiction", with
mysteries dominating but numerous other genres
well-represented -- science fiction and fantasy, Westerns, even
such an obscure area as Vietnam war fiction. There is an
extremely active portion of the market devoted to collecting
hyper-modern first editions, both mainstream literature and
mysteries. There is substantial -- and seemingly
increasing -- interest in various ethnic literatures: African-American,
Chicano, Native American, Latin American and more. Some of
the areas that were previously deemed marginal or even
"cult-ish" have now become mainstream: Beat writers; the
counterculture of the 1960s. There is ongoing interest in
modern poetry and there is increasing interest in such
varied areas as, on the one hand, artists' books and
elaborate art bindings and, on the other hand, such
primitive contructions as the xerox books of New York's
Lower East Side in the 1970s and on. Overall, it can hardly
be thought that the market in modern first editions is
exclusively, or even mainly, devoted to pursuing a handful
of high spots. And, in that sense, I think that both
booksellers and collectors can take heart: there is enough
diversity in this market that there is little that any one
group of collectors -- or booksellers, for that matter -- can do
to skew the market too dramatically, and this bodes well for
all collecting in the future, and for booksellers willing to
explore the areas that do emerge as significant
portions of the market, but which may be ill-defined right
now.
And, in that sense, I think that both
booksellers and collectors can take heart: there is enough
diversity in this market that there is little that any one
group of collectors -- or booksellers, for that matter -- can do
to skew the market too dramatically, and this bodes well for
all collecting in the future, and for booksellers willing to
explore the areas that do emerge as significant
portions of the market, but which may be ill-defined right
now.
These somewhat scattered observations don't answer all the
questions posed above, but they do perhaps point toward some
of the answers. That there are more people collecting high
spots today than a generation ago is probably because there
are more collectors today and the consensus about which are
the "great books" has firmed up over time, rather than
because the book trade has "dumbed down." The consensus on
today's "great books" is not inherently different than the
consensus was in earlier times about what were the great
books in other eras. That there seem to be fewer
"completists" may be because some of them are currently
collecting outside of the view of the mainstream rare book
trade, because collecting in such a manner has always been a
somewhat solitary pursuit, and because the larger book
market means that those collectors comprise a smaller
percentage of the market today than they did in the past.
That high spots have gotten more expensive is indisputable,
but it's not mysterious: demand has stayed steady or
increased, supply has dwindled, and the new supply that
comes into the market as the prices rise tends to consist
books of higher-than-average quality (i.e., previously
hand-picked for private collections), which bolsters the current
price levels and helps contribute to their upward
escalation. The price levels books have recently reached
will probably be sustained for the most part, but the rate
of increase will likely slow considerably.
Since no article on books or book collecting can be
published today (or written, for that matter) without
mentioning the internet, I'll point out that the internet
has, to a large extent, laid waste to the traditional "food
chain" that existed in the used, out-of-print and rare book
markets in the past, and this effect will likely increase in
coming years. Its effect as a "leveling" force on prices
will tend to inhibit exceedingly rapid price increases of
the type we have seen in recent years but, in the meantime,
it is contributing to substantial confusion when one can go
on the internet and find copies of The Catcher in the
Rye, all in comparable condition, for $4000 or $6500 or
$7000. "Why is there such a big variance? Can any
of these prices be trusted? What's the book actually
worth?" are questions I've been asked innumerable
times. The answer, I think, is that we are witnessing a
significant transition in the book world and this is a
process that is underway, not yet completed. The "food
chain" that existed for decades in the used, rare and
out-of-print world consisted of "scouts" and part-time
booksellers who scoured the far reaches of the land for
saleable books, which they would then sell to established
dealers, who in turn, if they didn't have a ready market for
exactly that kind of book in their own business,
would sell to specialist dealers who presumably did
have a market for them. At each point on the chain, the
individuals involved recognized that they had to price the
books attractively enough for their customer, the next link
in the chain, to be able to buy them, mark them up for a
profit, and still price them reasonably enough to sell to a
willing customer -- who could generally be presumed to have
some sense of what the book "should" sell for. With the
advent of internet bookselling, we are seeing books offered
by scouts, by small local general bookstores, by part-time
hobbyist booksellers and by specialist dealers all
intermingled. Everyone has access to the same market now,
but the residue of the price structures of the "food chain"
still exist. Scouts, or non-specialist dealers, will for
the time being still tend to price their offerings the way
they did in the past, because historically they haven't had
direct access to the retail market for these books and they
have no experience -- yet -- to convince them that it's actually
there and also because their costs are lower: because the
price structure of the food chain dictated that at each
"lower" rung, one's costs be kept low enough that one could
afford to sell the book at a wholesale price and still make
money, the former sources for rare books -- the scouts,
general bookstores, and part-time booksellers -- have a
competitive advantage over their former customers, the
specialist dealers who, being at the "top" of the food
chain, have almost always paid the most for their books.
So, during this transitional period -- which will probably
last for a couple more years, at least, as an increasing
percentage of the book-buying public gains access to the
internet -- all sorts of price "discrepancies" are likely to
appear in cyberspace. Over time, though, the really rare
books will ascend to whatever price the market will support
and those dealers who continue to deal in them, on the
internet and elsewhere, will likely again arrive at prices
that reflect a more general consensus regarding value than
is currently the case. At the same time, the prices of the
middle range of books -- moderately scarce but more likely
than not to turn up in some dealers' stocks at any
given time -- will tend to level off or even drop. Because of
the internet, more books are more widely available than ever
before and, overall, this should be a good thing for
collectors and booksellers alike but for the moment, in this
transitional period, it means that in many cases the supply
outstrips the demand and, while this is a great boon to
collectors, it means that many dealers are holding stock
that is no longer as rare as it appeared previously, in a
less information-rich market. The market pressures on these
kinds of books will tend to force prices downward, at least
for a while. This is one of the reasons that so few
dealers' catalogs bother with secondary appearances of
collectible authors anymore. When one's customers' access
to books was limited to the catalogs they were sent by rare
book dealers and the bookstores they managed to visit in
their spare time, it made sense to offer books that, while
not uncommon, were still scarce enough to be unlikely to
turn up in any given shop. Now, however, with the stock of
thousands of used bookstores available to one's customers
with a few keystrokes, it makes more sense to leave those
books where they are and let the customers find them than to
buy them, raise the price and list them in a catalog. As I
mentioned earlier, for the most collectible authors, the
information about what books to look for is not the
hard part; if your customer has a Hemingway bibliography, he
can get on the internet and look for Best American Short
Stories 1923. There is no longer a reason for a rare
book dealer to sell such a book, which is not particularly
rare.
Whether buying high spots or filling in an author collection
or spotting the next hot hyper-modern title, books
collections can be built that are good "investments"
overall, but if return-on-one's-dollar is the primary
criterion, there are probably better investments than books.
Books, like the art that decorates one's walls, also provide
another kind of "profit," more difficult to quantify, in
terms of how much they enrich one's life and experience.
And this should be factored in when addressing the question
of "is it worth it?" when applied to any individual purchase
because, finally, all collections are personal: what value a
collection has is not just its dollars-and-cents worth, but
its personal meaning as part of the larger process of one's
life. If this seems obvious, that's good: it should be, and
this most fundamental fact, the sine qua non of book
collecting, should not get lost or obscured by the many
questions that can arise in the course of developing or
evaluating one's collection.
Copyright © 1999 by Ken Lopez
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