An Obsession with Old Books

I have an obsession with old books. An exchange I had with a couple visiting the museum this past December taught me that perhaps not everyone who is a lover of history also shares my strange interest in antiquated literature. The couple was looking at a 19th century book about the history of the exploration of Africa that once belonged to my supervisor's grandfather. As they were looking it over, I mentioned that, while I had only read the first 25 pages or so of the book, it was an interesting read. The woman looked at me and replied, "Not really." Wait, what?! How could someone who seemed so knowledgeable about history find an old history text so dull?

Perhaps my fascination comes from the nostalgia of utilizing the public and school libraries as a kid. The town library used to be housed in a section of a strip mall with a Tom Thumb gas station on one end, which I vaguely remember from when I was quite young. The town built a larger library just southwest of downtown when I was in middle school. The school library of my Catholic elementary school was located in an adjacent building which formerly housed the nuns who at one time ran the school. Library day was a fun day because we had numbered, colored painting sticks to help keep the place on the shelf while we looked for books, the card catalog was the best way to learn the Dewey Decimal System, and most of the books I read as I got older had that old book smell. An added bonus was that you got to see who in your class checked out the book before you under the old system. The only downside was that we had to go outside to get to the library, and we never used coats in the middle of winter to cross the "frozen tundra" as we called it. "Oh, it's twelve below zero outside? Psht, who needs to wear a jacket?" Minnesotans are tough (or stupid) like that. As a kid, I had an interest in Nancy Drew for the longest time while the rest of my class was reading either The Boxcar Children or The Babysitters Club (I read a few of those but never really got into them.), and I can distinctly remember listening to the school librarian read the book Redwall to my class, which then became my favorite book series in middle school.

Perchance my fascination comes from memories of sitting upstairs in my grandmother's farmhouse reading the old books that used to belong to the old country schoolhouse that my mother, aunts, and uncles attended as children. Since my grandfather was on the school board and the school sat on his property, I think he acquired quite a bit of the old texts when rural and town schools in the area were consolidated. I used to sit in that little room upstairs and read for hours from the antiquated school textbooks, Dick and Jane style readers, and Betsy-Tacy. There was not much room to sit on the floor, and when I got tired of the floor, sometimes, for a more comfortable place to sit, I would sit on the indoor toilet (lid on of course) that my grandfather had made for use instead of having to use the outhouse in the middle of the night.

Either way, I have a fondness for old books that perhaps only a few would understand. My imagination runs away with me each time I pick up an old book. Who was the previous owner? What did the book first look like when it was brand new? Was it given as a gift or was it a personal purchase? When and where was it read? It is something that certainly reminds me of the insignificance of my life as compared to the history of humanity, and it is a very humbling feeling.

Over the years I have purchased a few 19th century school textbooks for use in the one room schoolhouse at the museum. I received a few more in the mail towards the end of December (Thank you, eBay!), and I am always amused when books that I have purchased have an inscription on the first page. Sometimes it can be a few words, but sometimes it is just a name. I imagine that person writing in that book so many years ago, and it makes me wonder about him or her and what his or her life was like.

"Sigmund Drechsler" as found in Schillers Werke. Vierter Band., 1867

"Louis Rhoades 1874" as found in Wilson's Larger Speller, 1864.

"Della Buchanan's Book, bought Nov 8th A.D. 1881" as found in McGuffey's New Fourth Eclectic Reader, 1866.

"Charles Bunting. 1229 Ky. St. Quincy Ill. owner." as found in Deutsches Zweites Lesebuch Für amerikanishe
Schulen, 1886. The left-hand side is "Charles Bunting" written in the German style script of the time.

"Mary E. Young, Danville, Illinois, U.S.A. - Regards of Stm. [sp?] L. Dec. 1890." as found in Deutsches Drittes
Lesebuch Für amerikanishe Schulen, 1886. It was very common to abbreviate names in the 19th century.

When we finally buy a house, my husband and I are in agreement that we need a library of sorts, so I tend to not get rid of very many books that have been purchased over the years. The only downside of having so many books is finding a place to store them in the meantime. Oh, and moving them every time we find a new place to live. Those boxes are usually the heaviest. But one thing is for certain: my obsession with old books will certainly add some extra character to our future home library.