Why we collect
Well, we made it to 2024. Happy new year, friends. January’s a fine time to let go of things (material or otherwise) that no longer serve you. Ditch the clutter. [While we’re on the subject, I wrote a book about that!]
As the old year gave way to the new, I observed the rituals of organizing and sorting. But lately I’ve been more interested in what we choose to keep. What makes a thing meaningful enough to hang onto? There’s a lot to unpack there, and I’ve been working out ways to do that. A book? A series of essays? A deep dive into preservation writ large?
I took an exploratory crack at the subject in “Why We Collect,” featured in the Winter 2024 issue of Fine Books & Collections magazine:
“Some collectors get started because of a particular hobby or passion. Others want to capture a cultural moment or movement. Many have been bibliophiles since childhood. Whatever their backgrounds, budgets, or enthusiasms, they’re driven by love—of the objects themselves and of the conversations and histories their collections document. Deep pockets aren’t a prerequisite. Some of the most intriguing collections belong to students and early career professionals who don’t fit the image of a collector as a well-heeled, older bibliophile with time and money to burn.”
I was down with COVID (round two, ugh, cannot recommend in any way) when I reported the story in October 2023. Sick as I was, I loved the chance to talk with some fascinating and generous bibliophiles about their collections and what sparked their interest in the first place.
In birding, people talk about a “spark bird” that got them hooked. Some of the collectors I spoke with had a “spark book” that drew them in. For Emma Treleaven, it was a mid-century sewing manual given to her by a high school teacher to help her make vintage-inspired clothes. Treleaven, now a PhD candidate at the London School of Fashion, won the 2023 Anthony Davis Book Collecting Prize for her collection, “My Own Two Hands: Books and Ephemera About Making Dress and Textiles Before 1975.” And just this week the Antiquarian Booksellers Association announced that Treleaven has won their 2023 National Book Collecting Prize as well.
It’s a fascinating collection—kind of like a seed library, but for hands-on knowledge and technique. (Did you know that the UK maintains a Red List of Endangered Crafts? More echoes of the birding/conservation world there.)
One point I hoped to get across in the story is that almost anybody can become a collector. Passion matters more than deep pockets, and the value of something isn’t always reflected in the price tag. As Treleaven told me, building “My Own Two Hands” didn’t break the bank,:
“The great thing about what I collect is mostly it’s very cheap,” she said. “It’s not seen as highbrow. It’s not something most people collect. … The things that are used and written in and stained are not really seen as high-class literature.” But annotations like notes about sizing offer a direct line to the makers of past eras and add real value for a fashion historian and curator.
FB&C doesn’t publish its features online, unfortunately—even in this Extremely Online era, a few outlets stick to print—but you can buy a copy of the winter issue here.
Bonus: The Winter 2024 includes an update on the Folger Shakespeare Library’s big reopening, scheduled for June 2024.
The Library has been closed for three years for a major renovation to upgrade accessibility and exhibition space. I’m excited to see the results, which will include a gallery where 82 of the Folger’s First Folios will be on public view rather than stowed away in the vault. Tree lovers, take note: The reno included moving a huge magnolia—a process that took many days and extensive care—to make way for a new, accessible entrance. The magnolia survived and appears to be thriving.
The Guardian’s DC correspondent, David Smith, published an upbeat piece about the renovation a few days ago. I wish he’d skipped the DC-as-a-swamp opener—that trope got tired a long time ago—but I’m glad he included Folger director Mike Witmore’s observation that DC is a city of dual cultures, and why it makes a certain kind of sense that a library centered on a British playwright exists (two blocks from the Capitol, in fact) in an American city built to be a theater of politics:
“There are 22,000 linear feet of rare books and manuscripts here covering the beginning of the age of print all the way through to the creation of the Atlantic world,” [Witmore] said. “In the middle, kind of looking at all that, is William Shakespeare, living in a city, London, which has the monarchy, the law courts, entertainment. Much like Washington DC, it’s a city that has an official culture – and then there’s the culture.”
Maybe Mike, who’s a friend, will someday reveal where the Folger’s First Folios went to live during the renovation. (I would have loved to do a ride-along, but no dice.) Another DC secret.
If you can get beyond the headlines about dysfunction, crime, and congressional shenanigans—admittedly hard to do these days—Washington has a bit of magic in it if you know where to look. The Folger embodies some of that magic for me, and I’m excited to explore the revamped space when it opens this summer.
Thanks for reading, and all good wishes for 2024.
Cheers,
Jen
Fascinated by the British list of endangered crafts. Thanks for sharing!