A Room of Ones
Own
Christopher Edwards
in conversation with Sheila Markham
Theres certainly a case to be made that this is the time
to be starting out with money rather than books. In the last few
months, Christopher resigned as managing director of Pickering and Chatto
and re-mortgaged the house to finance his own business. These days he
is based at the smart end of Jermyn Street in a suite of rooms somewhat
dominated by the most impressive packing table, which I take to be a
very good omen.
I think I always intended to go independent, and really started
to make the decision some time in the middle of last year. There were
personal reasons I had just turned 35 with nearly three children.
Also I needed a change after almost nine years in the same job. And
I wanted to make some of my own money. Of course its not as simple
as that, because its also your own money to lose!
In some ways the bottom of a recession is actually a good time
to start books are relatively cheap, its certainly a good
time not to he lumbered with old stock, and perhaps things can only
get better. Anyway, here I am I wouldnt say a fully-fledged,
but at least a fledged bookseller.
After reading English at Oxford, Chris-topher took his MA in bibliography
at Leeds University and came down in 1979 to face uncertain job prospects.
I suppose I was completely unemployable. No publisher would touch
me because I seemed over-qualified, and I couldnt become a librarian
because I was under-qualified. Although I enjoyed university life, I
was never really attracted to becoming a full-time academic. This may
sound condescending, but I do enjoy being in touch with the real world.
So I joined the book department at Christies King Street,
and had the great good fortune to work with a number of clever people,
notably Hans Fellner who is a man of amazing knowledge and talent. I
was there for three and a half years but, although Christies was
a wonderful place to start, it was not such a good place to stay. Just
as I was becoming dissatisfied, I got the job at Pickering and Chatto.
Id recommend anyone to start by working for an auction house.
Its an excellent training because you see books in such quantity
and meet some of the most powerful figures in the trade.
Although I havent consciously modelled myself on anyone,
many things have shaped me. For instance, I met the late John Sparrow
on several occasions when I was at Oxford, and he really taught me something
very valuable about book collecting. Its rather removed from what
I call the BAR approach to books. I suppose you could say that I dont
see books simply as commodities: one copy of one book being the same
as another copy. I always try to look for a nicer or more interesting
copy, and I hope most of my books reflect that.
When I was at Pickering and Chatto, I got terribly excited about
buying copy number 1 of The Waste Land. It seemed such a wonderful idea
to have the first copy of the greatest poem of the 20th century. When
I mentioned it to a first editions dealer, he just said, "But it
doesnt have the dust wrapper". I cant understand that
attitude.
John Sparrow was Honorary President of the Oxford University Society
of Bibliophiles until his death recently. The last meeting of each term
was always held at his lodgings in All Souls. Undergraduates were encouraged
to bring their own books for discussion, and Sparrow invariably trumped
each copy with something nicer or more interesting from his own library.
He was the great exponent of the multiple-copy collection, and a formative
influence on generations of distinguished bookmen. I went to see
John Sparrows collection about half a dozen times. It was a privilege
to hear him talking about books. I suppose it was a unique and imperceptible
process of teaching by example.
Someone once told me not to buy books you think you ought to have.
That was very useful advice and now I only buy books when I think they
are good, and not because they look pretty on the shelf. Its not
enough to have a general love of books. You need to develop a passion
for and knowledge of a particular field. All the best dealers are like
jackdaws, hiding away bits of information until they become useful.
This is why I must concentrate on the subjects I know and like
best early English books, manuscripts, antiquar-ianism, and the
Shakeaspearean age. I also have a small collection of Felicia Hemans
quotes of nice or interesting copies gratefully received! Of
course I shall try to keep some 18th century literature. But its
so competitive now, and I need to ride at least two horses at once.
Ive always been interested in the 16th century, and can imagine
myself as a gentleman of the time but I suppose no one ever imagines
himself down a mine.
At the moment, I think most of my business will be with the institutional
libraries of the English-speaking world. With a small stock and no staff,
I will have to concentrate my fire on certain areas and people. When
Ive had a good day offering books to the right customers, I feel
very satisfied. But I need a constant injection of things happening,
and Im very easily depressed. But Im also tremendously hopeful,
and I know what Im aiming at in all this to have fun and
make money. If I can do both then Ill regard myself as a success.
Some people like to cut a particular figure. But, as my own boss,
I do enjoy not having to keep up any sort of image. I suppose I want
to be liked, dont we all? But at the moment Im more concerned
with making enough money to get by. I dont feel particularly self-confident
right now, but I do think Ill make it.
Ive come rather a long way from my student days when I thought
it was rather immoral to make money out of old books. Actually I probably
grew out of that when I got my first pay cheque. Now I think selling
old books is a rather harmless pursuit - it doesnt hurt anybody,
and it may indeed be of some benefit, simply by producing, identifying
and placing a book in its proper context, and thus preserving a piece
of history. A dealer once said to me "I dont know what I
would do if I werent a bookseller. Its all Im fit
for." I dont find that a regrettable thing to say, and the
older I get the more I know it is also true of me.'
Interviewed for The Bookdealer in April 1992