[The second of three articles in the "Mormon Book Collecting" series, written in the early 1990s. It has not been published.]
THE COLLECTING URGE
by Rick Grunder
And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one; to every man according to his several ability . . . Matthew 25:15
The human urge to collect is a curious phenomenon. Some people have this urge to an overpowering degree, while others might call it a total stranger. Yet all of us, to some extent, need to gather and save. It is part of our cultural and genetic heritage. It is what makes us listen to the fable about the grasshopper and the ant, and what makes us want to have food in the fridge and money in the bank. The collecting drive appears in a surprising variety of forms, and these are almost always interesting to observe! One person's trash is another person's treasure, and if something exists, there is probably someone out there to collect it: a ball of string, a baseball team, or anything in between.
Collecting Mormon books is like collecting anything else: it is done for a variety of reasons, and in an infinite variety of ways. In the ultimate sense, if it gives you pleasure or somehow fulfills you, then such collecting is probably worth your time, and will enrich your life and the lives of those around you.
My great-grandfather's aunt (a plural wife of Joseph Smith), is said to have told a story of the sealed wagon. I cannot verify this story, so I relate it merely as an illustrative fable. According to great, great, great Aunt Martha's supposed account, there was, in an early company of Latter-day Saints headed for Utah, a mysterious sealed wagon. This heavy vehicle, pulled by extra animals, was surrounded by armed guards who had orders to shoot anyone who might try to approach too closely. Although certainly embellished and perhaps entirely untrue, this old family legend makes a neat counterpart to the account of the Children of Israel carrying the sacred but deadly Ark of the Covenant through the desert, laden with the most precious records and artifacts of their society and religion. What treasures of information might have travelled in the sealed wagon of the latter days? Precious volumes of the standard works? A printing press and paper? Detailed manuscript records of the beginnings of Mormonism? The seer stone with which the Book of Mormon was translated? Could Tischendorf or the fictional Indiana Jones have found a treasure more rare?
Each of us has our own sealed wagon, our personal sacred ark. For some, it is simply the heart, protecting a few treasured memories. For others, it may be an old family trunk filled with tattered threads and rumpled leaves from the past. For the privileged few, who are blessed with the treasure of curiosity and reverence for tangible history (I'm prejudiced!), there are cases and shelves of books, papers, and artifacts assembled carefully over the years, to be shared, hoarded, or passed on to others at will. As in the Biblical parable of the talents, no two people obtain precisely the same things to conserve, and no two people esteem or handle their stewardships in exactly the same way. But everyone needs to hold on to something, and if it fits the bill, then it is worth the effort to collect.
Too often, we hear only of the famous, expensive books and autographs which most of us can never hope to own. When I visited the National Archives after presenting a paper at the 1988 Sunstone Symposium in Washington, D.C., I entered the splendid room where we conserve the pieces of paper that change the world's lives. As I approached the place where set the Constitution of the United States, the Declaration of Independence, and the Bill of Rights, the emotions that swept through me were quite beyond description. Nearby, in the National Museum of American History, I saw the original Star-Spangled Banner, the actual flag which, when seen "by the dawn's early light" still flying over Fort McHenry in 1814, symbolized the endurance of the young American Nation. Again, I had to force back the tears. Yes, there are great things out there which, because of their incalculable significance or monetary worth, would be as unthinkable to aspire to collect as it would be selfish and self-centered. But there is much more waiting out there to be preserved and collected besides those high points which go only to institutions and multi-millionaires. Whatever may be your needs which collecting might fulfill, they can be satisfied well through discriminating, intelligent selection and acquisition tailored to fit your own interests and abilities.
Like many collectors, I first began by looking for very old books in ancient-looking leather bindings with raised bands on the spines. By the time I learned to distinguish truly great books of all time periods (in every kind of wrapper and binding imaginable), it became clear that no one short of Howard Hughes could finance the broad collection I would want. I had to specialize, and was fortunate to find an area which was at once affordable and still all-consuming in its interest for me.
It is possible for almost anyone to form a fascinating and valid collection. Friends of Brigham Young University's Lee Library have sponsored student book collection competitions which have turned up excellent examples of what can be done with a little dedication and imagination. The trick is to select a subject or genre which is interesting and unusual. By collecting in a field which was once scarcely appreciated, for example, a friend of mine formed an astonishing assemblage of the LDS standard works printed in foreign languages, complemented by early missionary tracts which are known to exist in only one or two copies. A respected professor of math champions the study of early doctrinal pamphlets (among other fine items), and he has put together a virtually unsurpassed collection of early Mormon imprints. An enviable array of Mormon signatures and manuscript items was also formed a few years ago, by a young man with very limited means, and serves as an example of what can be done -pleasurably!- with perseverance if little money.
Eric Quayle, author of The Collector's Book of Books (NY, 1971), emphasized this idea in words which have stuck with me since I read them fifteen years ago. "Collectors," Quayle wrote,
must not be content to stalk only the majestic giants of literature, or the "high-spots" and rare ephemera so lovingly clothed in effusive adjectives in the catalogues they receive. By his discoveries in forgotten or unexplored territory [the collector] may add something worth while to our knowledge of the past and by doing so he will also add to the sum total of human research and endeavour.
This is one of the several ways in which the book-collector and/or bibliophile can influence literary taste. His library reflects his own individual personality. What one man will seek avidly in every bookshop in the land, crouching over hastily opened catalogues while his breakfast cools on the plate, will leave another completely unmoved.
. . . the field is so wide and there are so many facets to examine and by-ways to explore that you never have a chance to lose interest. As one door closes another opens. When an author you have been quietly collecting for many years is re-discovered by the critics, you can sit back and relax, fighting any tendency to say "I told you so!" [pp.10-11]
As in Quayle's example of literature, the possibilities for collecting are also limitless in the field of Mormonism and its collateral subjects. Anyone who feels the urge to collect can surely muster up enough creativity and persistence to find those fascinating items which add that mystique and color which rarities bring to our lives. Instead of buying "limited edition" books which certain "mints" and publishers mass produce in the tens or hundreds of thousands of copies, why not find something out of the ordinary?
For as little as ten dollars, for example, a careful searcher might find a nice copy of the 1916 pamphlet by the First Presidency which defined and to some degree changed what we teach about the very nature of God. For the collector whose tastes run to the bizarre, a full array of frankly amusing - even deeply disturbing - publications by fringe elements of Mormon culture are not too difficult to find with a little patience and inquiry. ("Fringe elements" are people with whom one does not agree!) Early newspaper accounts of the Church make fascinating reading, and are rapidly growing in popularity and value. Examples dating back to the l830s are still available from time to time, although modern-day articles in unexpected places might also be well worth collecting, ranging from teeny-bop fan magazines and comic books to specialized scholarly journals which most LDS readers would miss.
If manuscript material is more to your liking, consider narrowing down your field to one person, group, or subject area. A collection of letters from missionaries relating their struggles to build their own testimonies might comprise an excellent, informative archive of tremendous historical and even monetary value, yet I have never heard of anyone collecting in such an area. Or how about forming a collection of signatures of all the presidents of the LDS or RLDS (or other Restoration) Churches? That could be expensive, but the expense would be spread out over several years while waiting to find the appropriate pieces. In my own collection is a simple document signed by one of my ancestors, borrowing money in 1839 to help establish Nauvoo. This worn piece of paper is not worth a lot of money, but it is worth the world to me. Yet, it did not come down through the family, but from a dealer in historical papers whom I approached and asked if he might have something signed by Vinson Knight. It was as easy as that.
As a dealer myself, I naturally would not want to discourage those collectors who are fortunate enough to be able to afford the high spots and the ephemera I so lovingly clothe in effusive adjectives in my catalogues (to quote Mr. Quayle above). But in all fairness, I will always insist that collecting is for everybody. And anyone who really wants to collect need only ask around and gain courage enough to go after the material they would enjoy. They will find that their talents, whether traded or "buried" on a back shelf, will multiply as other people come to appreciate what these collectors had enough foresight to love - and save - early on.