Collecting Biggles

I don’t think it would be fair to refer to myself as a “Biggles collector”. Admittedly, I do collect Biggles books, and have done so from my early teens, but compared to some of the more serious collectors (the ones who can sniff the binding of a book and tell you which year it was published in), I really am beyond amateur.

My collection is up to 60 odd books now, half in paperbacks (Red Fox, Armada, Knight) and half in no-dust-jacket hard covers (Dean and Sons, Oxford, Brock), with nary a first edition amongst them.

I’ve got pretty much all the Biggles books people can name off of the tops of their heads, Swastika, Flies East, Fails to Return, and so on. Most of the ones I don’t have are Air Police books, and some of those appear to be books with no Algy, so, really, I’m not in any particular hurry to get them anytime soon.

A while back someone on the Biggles Yahoo Group asked if maybe it was time to sell off his collection, as prices seemed to be dropping of late, and he’d been keeping the collection as a sort of nest egg for his children (at this point, I cast a guilty look towards my own Biggles collection. Maybe I should teach my future kids some sort of life skills…I don’t think my non-first-edition collection is going to make a good nest egg for anyone).

Some discussion ensued, with some people agreeing that he should consider selling, and others taking the view that Biggles books are amazing reads that can be passed on throughout generations. I don’t either agree or disagree with any of these views, but the discussion did give me much food for thought, which is why I’m here typing this post instead of working on my thesis (which I should have handed in…um…a looong time ago…)

Collections and the concept of collecting is a strange thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a little part of the brain located in the cerebral cortex or wherever that deals completely in the desire to collect stuff.

In so many ways Biggles is the perfect thing to collect. For starters, there are 98 books. And when you’re done reading those, you can collect all the first editions. And after that, you can collect every edition of every Biggles book ever. Whee!

And if you’re one of those people who somehow manage to get a lot of books really fast, there are Gimlet books to collect! Worrals books! Steely books! Space books! Every edition of every book W. E. Johns ever wrote!

Seriously, that’s enough collecting for a lifetime, isn’t it? And there’s always something to look forward to, since Norman Wright is republishing some of the Biggles books (new editions to collect!)

But really, is collecting a good thing? I started with four Red Fox books and a movie novelization wedged in the corner of a bookshelf and now I’m up to my current collection which is overflowing from a closet drawer. Every time I see the word “Bigg” anywhere my heart skips a beat. If I see a Biggles book I don’t own listed on eBay, I check the prices and start mentally calculating whether or not I can add it to my collection.

I haven’t gotten to the stage where I’m thinking about collecting first editions yet, but I wonder if I’m on the way there, and I worry that one day I’ll lose focus on Biggles and just be all about the collection.

I’m looking at my collection now and wondering if it’s time for me to say, “Okay, this is it.”

I’ve got all the “exciting” books, the ones with the brilliant Algy moments. Do I really need to chase after those Air Police books I don’t have? I don’t think I’m doing anyone a disservice by saying that the later Biggles books tend to be rather formulaic and dull, especially the ones with no Algy. (Seriously, Mr. Johns, you of all people should know that a Biggles book without Algy only counts as half a book at best.) That being the case, is there any point in reading (or even wanting to read) those books? There’s really nothing worse than settling in for a good read with a Biggles book only to find, three pages in, that Algy is staying behind to answer the phone.

In monetary terms I don’t think any of my books have or will ever appreciate dramatically in value. That is not to say that I was planning on selling any of my books in any case, but for me “collecting to make money” isn’t really much of an excuse.

What I think I’m trying to say here is that I don’t really have a reason to go on collecting Biggles books. I’ve read all the good ones, I’m not doing it for the money, so what am I doing it for?

But even as I say this, in my reasonable and rational and determined voice, I have the feeling that I can’t stop myself now. “Biggles radar” isn’t something that one can turn on and off at will. I know myself well enough to know that if the chance arises, I will definitely fight tooth and nail to complete my collection (in the same way that some people will fight tooth and nail to get their hands on a paper cup used by their favorite rock star. Not that I’m comparing Biggles books to a used paper cup.)

Is this addiction? Is this normal? Should we set up Biggles Anonymous for heavy collectors? 

Stupid Things Heard In Bookshops

Another delightful post from Archie (a professional book dealer who works in a bookstore and occasionally has a book stall at Tynemouth) on the many strange things that come out of people's mouths when they are in bookshops...

Lovely as most of my customers are, there are a few whose sanity I have to wonder about. Below is a selection of the choicest remarks heard at work; I assure you the list could well be endless.

"Do you buy books?" (At least once a day)
"I notice you have a copy of (insert name of common book with no identifying features) advertised. Is it the one a friend stole from me in 1987?"
"Do you know anything about books?"
"I've got this first edition which is a later reprint..."
"Have you got any red books?"
"Are you the boss's son?" (I'm a girl).
"Are all these books for sale?"
"So if I find a really old book, I can just bring it here and give it to you?"
"I want a copy of (say Biggles Flies Again) but only if it's a first edition with a dustwrapper and under £50..." (Don't we all!!!)

Customer, after being told his only chance of getting rid of a particularly unspectacular book is to offer it to the local charity book sale: "What? I have to GIVE it to them?"

My personal favourite (I suppose I ought to have been flattered):
Customer: "Is this your stall?"
Me: "Yes, that's right."
Customer: "Are you sure? You look a bit young. Isn't it your mum and dad's stall?"

And they're just the polite ones! Sometimes I think I should write a book of my own- I certainly hear enough interesting snippets to come up with something- but the trouble is, nobody would believe me. Better just stick to selling them for now, I suppose...

Got any classic quotes of your own to share? Comment below!

Book Collector's Corner: Musings Of A Book Dealer

Image from wisegeek.org

It's hard to be a Biggles fan without also being something of a book collector. With 90+ titles in the series--many of them out of print, at that--owning more than a handful of Biggles books usually involves going to a lot of secondhand bookstores (and checking the bargain bins, which, as we all know, is one of my favorite pastimes), checking eBay frequently for new listings, and, um, "borrowing" books from local libraries...

But what about the other side of the coin--the book dealer? You know, the people who post listings on eBay, run secondhand bookstores, go to auctions, and mumble things about "first editions"? 

I have my friend Archie to thank for the following piece about collectible children's books. I don't know that much about the subject myself, but Archie, who is a professional book dealer specializing in  collectible children's books (and also an avid Biggles fan), of course knows all about it!

Collecting children's books, be it 20th century juvenile fiction, 19th century moveables or even earlier chapbooks and the like, is not such an uncommon hobby as it may at first appear. Which is really just as well. Life as a dealer of collectible children's books would be somewhat difficult if such people didn't exist. Some people seem to doubt they do; I have been asked more than once who my customers are.

Well, to start with, they tend not to be children. I make the odd exception; I started life as a book collector when still at school, and I daresay there must be others who have done the same. But generally speaking, my day-to-day customers tend to be activated by a feeling of nostalgia. I deal mainly in 20th century children's books; and a lot of those books are bought by people who fondly remember them from their own childhood. W.E. Johns (naturally) is one of the more obvious targets; but there are others, such as Enid Blyton, Anthony Buckeridge (the 'Jennings' books), Richmal Crompton (Just William) and Malcolm Saville (perhaps best known for the Lone Pine series), to name but a few. There are the earlier, enduring classics as well; I know one chap who is attempting to collect all the various illustrated editions of 'Alice in Wonderland' (more than you think, believe me). But a comment heard at least weekly is,

"Oh, I remember that from when I was a child..."

Followed, if one is lucky, by,

"I must read that again/buy it for my grandchildren/have it for the pictures..."

In some cases this is perfectly understandable, due to the quality of the author or illustrator's output; in others somewhat less so. I mention no names. It is, anyway, a question of taste.

People who are essentially just looking for a good read, though, are by no means the only ones who show an interest in children's books. There are more serious book collectors out there. The Opies spring immediately to mind for anyone really into the subject; but today it is perhaps Brian Alderson who is at the forefront of things. He is a noted collector, but he has also put a great deal of academic work into the subject. Currently he is giving a series of lectures at Newcastle University's Robinson Library (which has rather an impressive array of 19th century children's titles itself).

It is, after all, possible to do a research degree in children's literature at a number of universities in the UK and the USA (and probably elsewhere, if, unlike me, you can read any language other than English). The UK has a National Centre for Children's Books, Seven Stories. They have some rather important stuff in their collection. They also make sure they produce exhibitions which will appeal to the general public as well as the academic world--making sure interest in the subject will be continued well into the future. These people are not to be sneezed at. I, for one, am extremely grateful for their existence, although I know I am very unlikely to attain such dizzying heights in the world of children's books. That would take concentration--and it is all I can do not to read my stock as I put it on the shelves...