The Three C's of Book Collecting
Roger Gozdecki

Many years ago, long before I too had become a little worn around the edges, a wise old bookseller took me aside and whispered confidentially to me, "There are three things that determine the value of a rare book," he said, "and they are condition, condition, and condition." This is a lesson that I deliver almost daily to disappointed representatives of the inquiring public who have discovered some shabby printed relic that has been neglected for decades in their garage or attic, and come in search of an appraisal, with optimistic visions of a small fortune dancing feverishly in their head.

The reality is that a rare book is not just some noble fragment of the literary heritage of humanity; it is a collectible physical object. In common with any other objects that we ascribe value to, including baseball cards, comic books, Depression glass, and Duncan Phyfe furniture, the condition of a collectible book is the key to its value. All things being equal, in order to possess the highest value, a rare book should be as close as possible to the physical state it was in when first published.

Aside from supplying pertinent bibliographic data when books are catalogued for sale, booksellers should accurately describe their physical condition. Since books are printed and not minted like coins, it is inappropriate to describe a flawless book as being in "mint condition." Books that are as crisp and fresh as the day on which they were first printed, without any discernible flaws whatsoever can be called "as new." Using "as new" as a hypothetical starting point, the range of condition from which discerning collectors should make their acquisitions ranges across the upper end of the spectrum, from "very fine" to "fine" to "very good." In general, professional cataloguers should disclose any aspect of a book's condition that departs from these standards, including things like price-clipped jackets, previous owner's signatures, bookplates, and ownership stamps.

Most potentially valuable books printed since about 1900 need to be accompanied by the dust jacket that they were issued in. Remove the jacket from the book, and you reduce its value by fifty to ninety percent. For all practical purposes, any literary first edition published in the past fifty years has little or no value sans dust jacket. To those literary purists who protest indignantly that the ephemeral paper wrapper surrounding a bound book becomes worth more than the sum of its printed contents, I would simply say, "Correct!" If you fail to appreciate this fact, you are doomed to years of frustration as a book collector.

This emphasis on dust jackets, however, is not merely some arbitrary conceit. As industrially produced books came to be printed in larger and larger quantities, once elaborate, gilt-decorated trade bindings became simpler and plainer, while the lowly utilitarian dust wrappers grew to be more refined. By 1910, with the rise of full-color lithography, dust jackets began to feature eye-catching artwork and publishers' blurbs, not to mention printed prices, reviewers' comments, information about the author, and lists of related titles. All of this information adds immeasurably to our appreciation of the book, and viewed in retrospect, provides invaluable insights into the era in which it first appeared. In short, where rare books are concerned, you can judge them by their covers, and they need to be in very good or better condition.

Often collectors ask me to appraise the flaws of a book as if there were some sliding monetary scale that allows us to deduct 50 dollars for a price-clipped jacket flap, and another 75 for a two-inch tear to the front fold. It doesn't work that way! A much more constructive way to evaluate the flaws of a book is by comparing it to other copies of the same title that may or may not exhibit similar problems. If you can find a better copy in the same price range, buy it! On the other hand, if you come across a really superb copy of a book that is generally encountered in much more worn condition, you can expect to pay a premium for it. Genuinely fine copies of some titles may be so uncommon that when they come on the market booksellers can confidently price them much more aggressively based upon the likelihood that discriminating collectors won't be able to find a better copy.

I would urge every beginning collector to make the effort necessary to understand the practical working definitions of condition before buying too many books. Visit the reputable booksellers in your area, so that you can learn first hand what books in fine condition are supposed to look like. If possible, attend an antiquarian book fair, where you will see 150-year-old copies of books that look as fresh and crisp as the day they were first sold, and first editions of the 20th-century classics that are in bright striking dust jackets that blaze with the original artwork. Then you will begin to understand why the phrase "pretty good for its age" is not appropriate bookselling terminology.