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28 reviews for:
A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books
Nicholas A. Basbanes
3.94 AVERAGE
28 reviews for:
A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books
Nicholas A. Basbanes
3.94 AVERAGE
A work of nonfiction that provides a steady stream of facts, and still manages to be engaging and enjoyable throughout, earns a five-star rating from me. Nicholas Basbanes spins many tales about the origins of famous libraries, and the migration patterns of some of the oldest books in existence. Reading this added to my must-see bucket list.
Toward the end of this tome, there is a very long section on Stephen Blumberg, the man known as the most successful bibliokleptomaniac in history. It is a spicy tale...fortunately, he respected the books he was hiding, and they were returned, eventually, to all the victimized institutions--all across the country and in Canada, as well. (He was sentenced to almost six years in prison and heavily fined.) Blumberg would not have been caught had a "friend" not turned him in for a bounty.
Basbanes mentions many smaller but intriguing collections, such as the Mulholland Library of Conjuring and the Allied Arts. This was exciting for me, because my husband and I have had the opportunity to see this. I had heard a couple stories about how David Copperfield came to buy the entire Mulholland collection, but I did not know the reason it was sold. The back story involves a banker who was implicated in the savings and loan scandal. It seems that this collection was a bank president's private--perk. When that bank collapsed in 1990, the late John Mulholland's collection was seized by a government agency to recoup the bank's losses--and it did. The last owner paid $575,000 for the original collection, and his famous curator, Ricky Jay* continued to enhance it over a period of years. In the end, about $850,000 had been spent on a collection that was then sold to Copperfield for 2.2 million dollars! Nice return.
Another collector who gets space in this book is Fred J. Board, who collects "oddities." This man makes his own rules. The oddest thing he owns, in my opinion, must be the book printed on pasta, fastened with steel bolts. (Not sure I'd drive to Connecticut to see that.)
There are many human interest type stories included in this fabulous reference book, since the passion for collecting cannot be separated from the personalities of these bibliophiles. They are the reason that so much history has been preserved and is available for study.
Since this is a reference book, it need not be read from cover to cover (I did that out of habit). It's well organized and indexed. I'm glad to have this in my collection, and would certainly recommend it.
*Ricky Jay is a famous magician and also a most engaging writer. I highly recommend Learned Pigs & Fireproof Women. (And he is no longer the curator of the Mulholland Collection.)
p.s. well-indexed means 100 pages of index. Lest anyone think I'm a speed reader, I am not.
Toward the end of this tome, there is a very long section on Stephen Blumberg, the man known as the most successful bibliokleptomaniac in history. It is a spicy tale...fortunately, he respected the books he was hiding, and they were returned, eventually, to all the victimized institutions--all across the country and in Canada, as well. (He was sentenced to almost six years in prison and heavily fined.) Blumberg would not have been caught had a "friend" not turned him in for a bounty.
Basbanes mentions many smaller but intriguing collections, such as the Mulholland Library of Conjuring and the Allied Arts. This was exciting for me, because my husband and I have had the opportunity to see this. I had heard a couple stories about how David Copperfield came to buy the entire Mulholland collection, but I did not know the reason it was sold. The back story involves a banker who was implicated in the savings and loan scandal. It seems that this collection was a bank president's private--perk. When that bank collapsed in 1990, the late John Mulholland's collection was seized by a government agency to recoup the bank's losses--and it did. The last owner paid $575,000 for the original collection, and his famous curator, Ricky Jay* continued to enhance it over a period of years. In the end, about $850,000 had been spent on a collection that was then sold to Copperfield for 2.2 million dollars! Nice return.
Another collector who gets space in this book is Fred J. Board, who collects "oddities." This man makes his own rules. The oddest thing he owns, in my opinion, must be the book printed on pasta, fastened with steel bolts. (Not sure I'd drive to Connecticut to see that.)
There are many human interest type stories included in this fabulous reference book, since the passion for collecting cannot be separated from the personalities of these bibliophiles. They are the reason that so much history has been preserved and is available for study.
Since this is a reference book, it need not be read from cover to cover (I did that out of habit). It's well organized and indexed. I'm glad to have this in my collection, and would certainly recommend it.
*Ricky Jay is a famous magician and also a most engaging writer. I highly recommend Learned Pigs & Fireproof Women. (And he is no longer the curator of the Mulholland Collection.)
p.s. well-indexed means 100 pages of index. Lest anyone think I'm a speed reader, I am not.
This book is for a very select type of person. I quit halfway through because I started skimming through all the pages.
If you are looking for a collection of stories involving people who love books and the great lengths they’d go to get them this isn’t the book as far as I’ve read. If, however, you are looking for a book about rich people buying special edition books and in many cases not reading them, just to decorate their homes, then this would hold your attention.
The positive side of this is that it did highlight the importance of personal libraries in the preservation of rare texts, which is a fair point to make. Aside from the opening sequence there was a story of a monk who killed eight people to get to books, which was more in line with what I was seeking.
Everything else was just rich people spending money, with the occasional historical tragedy wherein books suffered ( ie the library of Alexandria and when Henry VIII wanted a divorce etc).
I feel like the book could be cut in half and still get through it’s message.
1/5 - Perhaps I’ll finish this some other time.
If you are looking for a collection of stories involving people who love books and the great lengths they’d go to get them this isn’t the book as far as I’ve read. If, however, you are looking for a book about rich people buying special edition books and in many cases not reading them, just to decorate their homes, then this would hold your attention.
The positive side of this is that it did highlight the importance of personal libraries in the preservation of rare texts, which is a fair point to make. Aside from the opening sequence there was a story of a monk who killed eight people to get to books, which was more in line with what I was seeking.
Everything else was just rich people spending money, with the occasional historical tragedy wherein books suffered ( ie the library of Alexandria and when Henry VIII wanted a divorce etc).
I feel like the book could be cut in half and still get through it’s message.
1/5 - Perhaps I’ll finish this some other time.
I liked this book, but it felt like a 500 page introduction. Vignette after vignette with no connections or flow, it felt more like reading a genealogy than a non-fiction subject book. Couldn't make myself get through it, and I'm one of the bibliophiles he's talking about.
Nicholas Basbanes knows how to tell a story. He can't necessarily stay on topic, but damn, he's entertaining.
The book trade is full of crazies, eccentrics, and downright mentally ill people. This will give you the low-down on all the juicy details. You don't necessarily have to be interested in rare books to like it.
The book trade is full of crazies, eccentrics, and downright mentally ill people. This will give you the low-down on all the juicy details. You don't necessarily have to be interested in rare books to like it.
This review has been revised (there is a new edition of the book) and can now be found at Expendable Mudge Muses Aloud!
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
No one, on the evidence of this book at least, will accuse Nicholas Basbanes of being a compelling prose stylist. Fortunately, the people, the history and the very milieu documented in A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books make up for aesthetic deficiencies. From Cicero to the infamous book thief Stephen Blumberg, Basbanes’ book explores book collectors of every kind and stripe, from the ego-driven corporate-raider style library builders to the equally ego-driven individual obsessives whose passions Basbanes pulls reluctantly from the shadows. Basbanes exposes world of books and collections that I never knew existed.
Despite being a lifelong book accumulator, I knew virtually nothing of the world of book collecting before reading A Gentle Madness. What I learned was compelling, fascinating and depressing. I identify with a passion for books, but as works of art to be enjoyed and explored not objects to be hoarded. The incessant reduction of books to items for investment or to complete or add to a collection is depressingly material…and yet without such people, many books would have long since been lost to time. What was most disturbing to me is the number of books—and the amount of materials—that are locked away in library archives and basements with rules limiting access that are unnecessary. I understand minimizing handling of truly rare books and manuscripts, but most of the systems seem to be simply the product of a casual elitism that goes against something deep in my psyche (and, I must say, my own interests). The world of books as objects of art frustrates me in the same way the world of paintings and illustrations as art frustrates and stymies me.
But there are also many stories here of generosity, of people who devote their lives to creating important and accessible collections and whose commercial activities serve primarily as a means to allow them to continue their zealous pursuits. And there are the madmen (and women) whose desires outstrip their financial and, in some cases, mental and emotional resources, for whom I feel a sympathy equal to my distaste for the rich collectors.
A fascinating volume for book lovers of all kinds that retained its hold one me even when it occasionally devolved into a kind of catalog. Recommended.
Despite being a lifelong book accumulator, I knew virtually nothing of the world of book collecting before reading A Gentle Madness. What I learned was compelling, fascinating and depressing. I identify with a passion for books, but as works of art to be enjoyed and explored not objects to be hoarded. The incessant reduction of books to items for investment or to complete or add to a collection is depressingly material…and yet without such people, many books would have long since been lost to time. What was most disturbing to me is the number of books—and the amount of materials—that are locked away in library archives and basements with rules limiting access that are unnecessary. I understand minimizing handling of truly rare books and manuscripts, but most of the systems seem to be simply the product of a casual elitism that goes against something deep in my psyche (and, I must say, my own interests). The world of books as objects of art frustrates me in the same way the world of paintings and illustrations as art frustrates and stymies me.
But there are also many stories here of generosity, of people who devote their lives to creating important and accessible collections and whose commercial activities serve primarily as a means to allow them to continue their zealous pursuits. And there are the madmen (and women) whose desires outstrip their financial and, in some cases, mental and emotional resources, for whom I feel a sympathy equal to my distaste for the rich collectors.
A fascinating volume for book lovers of all kinds that retained its hold one me even when it occasionally devolved into a kind of catalog. Recommended.
All about the world of book collecting. Anyone who enjoys books will find something in here to like.