The Clothbound Collectibles

By J. D. Reed

Rare volumes outperform gold, diamonds and stocks

The rare-book dealer and his customer have long been favorite subjects of painters. Musty, refined, the dilettantes gaze out from the works of artists from Daumier to Norman Rockwell, echoes of a time when collectors were more interested in pages than profits. The echoes are growing fainter by the week. Today, Ye Olde Booke Shoppe is likely to be mistaken for Ye Stocke Exchange. Dusty volumes have become hot commodities. New York City Dealer Raymond Wapner finds the upswing encouraging: "It's about time we came to terms with the economic reality of the times. In upward movement and general stability, rare books perform better than the Dow Jones index." Indeed, in two decades rare books have appreciated about 30 times, on the average, outperforming gold, diamonds and Oriental rugs.

Where the smart money flows, celebrities are sure to follow. Among well-known bibliophiles, Carter Burden Jr., New York political hopeful and socialite, is reportedly amassing what experts believe will be the definitive collection of contemporary American first editions. Author Ray Bradbury favors such English novelists as Somerset Maugham and Evelyn Waugh, and Bestseller Irving Wallace collects rarer chart toppers like a signed edition of The Thin Man, for which he paid $ 1,500 last year.

Their acquisitions in turn have stimulated new interest, in every sense of the word. A first edition of D.H. Lawrence's 1915 The Rainbow bought in 1960 for $25 sold 17 years later for $200. Raymond Chandler's classic whodunit The Big Sleep now brings $2,500, up 150% in five years, and John Irving's early novel Setting Free the Bears, bought twelve years ago for $5.95, is worth $200.

Dealers have responded to such appreciation with come-ons as enticing as those of any money fund. John Jenkins lures the blue-chip set to his $20 million inventory in Austin with tax tips: a collection of rare books that cost $50,000 to build, he points out, can be donated to a library and deducted from taxes at the current value. So the collecting is free, and the gift may be named for the donor: immortality at discount prices. Concludes Jenkins: "All an investor needs is patience, a good adviser and a collection worth more than the sum of its parts." Two sample collections suggested by Jenkins: a complete library of imprints by Iowa publishers and all of Charles Schulz's Snoopy publications.

Says British Bookman Sir William Rees-Mogg, a former London Times editor: "Rare books make rich men wise and wise men rich." So rich that the venerable London firm of Francis Edwards now advocates a kind of leather-bound mutual fund. For a minimum of $1,000--plus a 2% storage commission--Edwards assembles a "portfolio" of rare books, often unseen by the investor, to be sold later for profit. A typical $10,000 Edwards holding might include such items as The Journals of Captain Cook ($200), Kipling's Kim ($80) and Thomas Chippendale's The Gentleman and Cabinet-Maker's Director ($2,500). Clive Farahar, one of Edwards' aggressive associate directors, encourages investors to leave their books at the shop, where other buyers may offer higher prices for them. Still, he says, "many will want to peruse their books before a fire, wearing bedroom slippers and sipping a glass of whisky."

A bracing shot of schnapps might be needed for the newest area of collectible volumes: modern poetry and fiction.

Here, prices are substantially lower than those for 19th century works, making them ideal entry points for the new collector, but not for jittery investors. Consider these risks: Robert Frost brings 25% less than he did a decade ago, Hemingway is barely holding, and Faulkner is sluggish. On the other hand, Wallace Stevens' rare first volume, Harmonium, $2 when published in 1923, can bring $800. The far more recent works of John Updike, John Cheever and Saul Bellow have done nearly as well. Some sharp collectors bought John Gardner's first novel, The Resurrection (1972), for cut-rate prices on bookshop remainder tables after the author's Grendel gained a national reputation. Current worth for a mint copy: $200.

Says Frank Scioscia, whose Riverrun Books in Hastings, N.Y., is an East Coast clearinghouse for contemporary literature: "The very idea of a modern book being rare is encouraging." His advice to novices: "Start with a first edition of Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow at $150, and invest intelligently at the remainder table. After all, many of the novels published in the '60s became important emotional furniture to a generation now competitively collecting books. Authors like Kurt Vonnegut, Walker Percy and Joyce Carol Gates now command rare-volume respect."

The megabucks, however, do not rest in standard first editions but in bound galleys, the paper-wrapped publisher's advance copies distributed to reviewers, talk-show hosts and other promotional outlets. Galleys are rarer: usually only 50 to 200 are printed. A copy of V., by the elusive Thomas Pynchon, brings $350 in a first edition, $850 in a bound galley. A well-preserved galley of Salinger's Catcher in the Rye commands $5,000. Even pop chillers like Stephen King's Carrie are listed at $200 in galley form.

In all categories, competition for copies will drive up prices and may drive out investors without cash reserves. But the bibliophiles should not lose heart. The bulls may be loose in the bookshops, but they will pass on to fresher collectibles--Sony Walkmans, early videotapes. The real enthusiasts will reap the rewards--like the Manhattan dowager who a few years ago sold her signed first edition of A Tale of Two Cities. Told that the money would have appreciated more in a savings account, she replied, "But I so much prefer reading Dickens to my passbook." Of course, if she had chosen the right time to sell, she would have been able to read both with equal delight. --By J.D. Reed

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.