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Killer Stuff and Tons of Money: Seeking History and Hidden Gems in Flea-Market America
Whether it’s Antiques Roadshow or American Pickers, or any of the number of TV shows on flea markets, the world of collecting inspires a cult following of millions of Americans. Celebrated author Maureen Stanton takes readers behind the scenes and deep into the “flea-o-sphere,” following master antiques dealer Curt Avery from the populist mayhem of flea markets, to the rarefied realm of high-end antiques shows, to the heart-pounding competition of auctions. Killer Stuff and Tons of Money is a captivating tour of the outrageous world of American antiques, jam-packed with colorful characters, high-stakes scores, and insider tips for all who seek hidden treasure.
326 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2011
32 people are currently reading
780 people want to read
About the author
Maureen Stanton
7 books99 followersMaureen Stanton is an award-winning nonfiction writer. Her book, The Murmur of Everything Moving: A Memoir (March, 2025) won the Donald L. Jordan Prize for Literary Excellence. Her book, "Body Leaping Backward: Memoir of a Delinquent Girlhood," was a "People Magazine" Best New Books choice and Maine Literary Award winner. People Magazine called Body Leaping Backward a "blazingly important memoir about the possibility of change." Stanton also wrote "Killer Stuff and Tons of Money," a work of immersion journalism that explores the subculture of flea markets, antiques, and collecting. "Killer Stuff" received a Massachusetts Book Award in nonfiction, and was a Parade Magazine "Great Summer Reads" pick. She has received a National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship, Pushcart Prizes, Maine Arts Commission Individual Artist Fellowships, and her work has been listed as "Notable" by Best American Essays (Houghton Mifflin) eight times. She teaches at the University of Massachusetts Lowell.
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September 19, 2019
Killer Stuff and Tons of Money: Seeking History and Hidden Gems in Flea-Market America by Maureen Stanton is a 2011 Penguin Press publication.
Firstly, I want to thank my Goodreads friend Amy for putting this book on my radar. What an interesting book!
The author follows Curt Avery, an antiques dealer, (not his real name), over an extended period, observing him ply his trade, while giving us a few lessons about antiques in the process. It’s a fascinating journey, not only because one gets a detailed glimpse of this sub-culture, if you will, but because of the history involved.
Now, I know a moderate amount about antique dealing. My parents were really into antiquing when I was growing up. At one time my stepmother owned an antique store, and a member of my extended family is a whole lot like Curt, only on a much smaller scale. This is not a hobby for folks like Curt. It’s how he makes his living. The art of collecting, buying and selling, negotiating, knowing how to pick through the reproductions and fakes to find a real treasure takes years of practice, a lot of patience, the ability and time to travel, and knowing the intense, often illustrious history behind the items one buys and sells.
The world of antique wheeling and dealing within the flea market culture has its own rules and rituals and if you aren’t in the know it can seem a little over the top. Of course, hobbyists participate as well, hoping to luck into something worth a mint, by sheer chance… and people have.
Just watch a couple of episodes of Antiques Roadshow. There are indeed times when someone discovers something is worth a whole lot more money than they paid for it, or they simply stumbled across something in their grandmother’s attic that turned out to be a hidden gem.
But, usually, it takes years of experience and in Curt’s case it was self-taught. It can be a very stressful journey at times, with as many hard knocks as successes.
Since my parents are retired now and have slowly sold off their inventory of antiques, and as the market waxes and wanes, my interest in prowling through garage and estate sales, flea markets, and antique shops eventually trickled down to nothing. Even though I live close to a moderately sized flea market that is open every other weekend, and is a place I occasionally stumbled across a few collectable books, I haven’t visited it in some years.
Even so, I can see shifts in interest and in the value of items my parents once collected, or things I owned as a child, compared to the newer collectables, such as toys from the eighties- things that my own kids might find of interest, if they were into that sort of thing, which they aren’t, because they don’t collect anything- it’s all about ‘experiences’ now. (Which is especially annoying when I try to convince them to get their stuff out of my garage- LOL)
Nevertheless, this is a very informative book, and the author takes the reader on quite a journey through the world of flea markets and the art of antiquing.
Fans of American Pickers or Antiques Roadshow should check this book out. Television makes it look easy, but this book will be a real eye opener for you. Professionals and hobbyist alike will also appreciate the trip taken with Curt and will relate to his lifestyle and the challenges and triumphs of antique dealing.
4 stars
Firstly, I want to thank my Goodreads friend Amy for putting this book on my radar. What an interesting book!
The author follows Curt Avery, an antiques dealer, (not his real name), over an extended period, observing him ply his trade, while giving us a few lessons about antiques in the process. It’s a fascinating journey, not only because one gets a detailed glimpse of this sub-culture, if you will, but because of the history involved.
Now, I know a moderate amount about antique dealing. My parents were really into antiquing when I was growing up. At one time my stepmother owned an antique store, and a member of my extended family is a whole lot like Curt, only on a much smaller scale. This is not a hobby for folks like Curt. It’s how he makes his living. The art of collecting, buying and selling, negotiating, knowing how to pick through the reproductions and fakes to find a real treasure takes years of practice, a lot of patience, the ability and time to travel, and knowing the intense, often illustrious history behind the items one buys and sells.
The world of antique wheeling and dealing within the flea market culture has its own rules and rituals and if you aren’t in the know it can seem a little over the top. Of course, hobbyists participate as well, hoping to luck into something worth a mint, by sheer chance… and people have.
Just watch a couple of episodes of Antiques Roadshow. There are indeed times when someone discovers something is worth a whole lot more money than they paid for it, or they simply stumbled across something in their grandmother’s attic that turned out to be a hidden gem.
But, usually, it takes years of experience and in Curt’s case it was self-taught. It can be a very stressful journey at times, with as many hard knocks as successes.
Since my parents are retired now and have slowly sold off their inventory of antiques, and as the market waxes and wanes, my interest in prowling through garage and estate sales, flea markets, and antique shops eventually trickled down to nothing. Even though I live close to a moderately sized flea market that is open every other weekend, and is a place I occasionally stumbled across a few collectable books, I haven’t visited it in some years.
Even so, I can see shifts in interest and in the value of items my parents once collected, or things I owned as a child, compared to the newer collectables, such as toys from the eighties- things that my own kids might find of interest, if they were into that sort of thing, which they aren’t, because they don’t collect anything- it’s all about ‘experiences’ now. (Which is especially annoying when I try to convince them to get their stuff out of my garage- LOL)
Nevertheless, this is a very informative book, and the author takes the reader on quite a journey through the world of flea markets and the art of antiquing.
Fans of American Pickers or Antiques Roadshow should check this book out. Television makes it look easy, but this book will be a real eye opener for you. Professionals and hobbyist alike will also appreciate the trip taken with Curt and will relate to his lifestyle and the challenges and triumphs of antique dealing.
4 stars
August 13, 2016
One of the features of Antiques Roadshow that makes it so interesting is the historical information delivered by the experts as they discuss the provenance of some unusual item. That knowledge is what separates the amateurs from the professionals in the antique business. You have to know a lot of stuff. This is one of those ridiculously fascinating books that truly holds my interest becoming impossible to put down as I am overwhelmed with more and most trivia, e.g., in the chapter about the show, “Lint on the set is a problem, too. “We spend a lot of time picking lint off the tables, floors, the velvet-covered display racks,” Matthews says. And derrieres cause trouble. The crew often films an object set on a waist-high table. “Many times we cannot use the shot because in the background is someone’s ass,” Matthews says. “The Antiques Roadshow butt shot. That’s a phenomenon in this business.”
True aficionados of flea markets, for example, realize that by the time the show/market actually opens 95% of the really good stuff is already gone as the dealers use that time to search through each other's wares for the good stuff. The best target is a rental truck signaling a possible estate being sold, the owners often not recognizing what they might have and willing to let it go cheap.
It’s exciting and addicting, but it’s clear that the breadth and depth of knowledge needed to get to this point is daunting. Knowledge is what makes this robbery okay. Robbery is not the right word, though, because the information is available to anyone willing to study, to do the homework. “If you buy something off someone’s table, you don’t owe them anything,” Avery says. The dealer is responsible for setting the asking price. Caveat venditor.
Why do people start collecting stuff? Stuff that often overwhelms their lives and homes. “... from the mid-1990s to the mid-2000s storage unit rentals increased by 90 percent.” Avery’s house had become a warren of paths and finally, using yard sales and group sales shops, and lots of time, he managed to reduce the quantity somewhat. The conundrum was that in order to sell, he had to buy, and determining what to take to any given show on any given weekend was always difficult, but he had to have lots of “stuff.” The impulse to collect begins as early as age three, a tendency that fast food restaurants and toy manufacturers exploit by marketing sets of toys and urging kids to “collect them all.” And some collecting is just weird. “Photographer Amy Kubes has collected her toenails since 1995. “I’ve never missed a cutting,” she wrote. William Davies King, author of Collections of Nothing, has “seventeen to eighteen thousand labels,” including labels from forty-four brands of canned tuna. “I’ll spare you the clams, crabmeat, mussels, oysters, sardines, snails, herring, salmon, and kipper snack” labels, he writes. “
Lots of delectable information. Did you know, for example,
In a single year, 1859, just one glass factory in France produced eighty million bottles for opium. Until it was banned in 1905, opium was cheaper than beer or gin, and easily purchased in grocery stores, by mail, and over the counter at pharmacies. Parents even gave opium to fussy babies, a product like Street’s Infants’ Quietness, which “quieted” many infants through death by overdose. In Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, Thomas de Quincey called opium a “panacea for all human woes” and “the secret of happiness.” Opium addiction was so widespread that an English pharmacist, C. R. Alder Wright, formulated a derivative called diacetylmorphine, which he hoped would be less addicting. The new drug, sold by the German company Bayer, was called Heroin for its heroic ability to cure. Heroin was the best-selling drug brand of its time.
And the hint of the day: “It might surprise antiques dealers to learn that a recent study found that low starting bids yielded higher final prices, at least on the Internet. In 2006, researchers sought to discover the causes behind this “reversal of the anchoring effect,” so they set up simultaneous auctions on eBay. Their study showed that when the starting bid is low, anyone can jump in (“reduced barriers to entry”). This increases activity, causing a “sheep effect” (my term—if everyone else wants something, then it must be valuable).”
True aficionados of flea markets, for example, realize that by the time the show/market actually opens 95% of the really good stuff is already gone as the dealers use that time to search through each other's wares for the good stuff. The best target is a rental truck signaling a possible estate being sold, the owners often not recognizing what they might have and willing to let it go cheap.
It’s exciting and addicting, but it’s clear that the breadth and depth of knowledge needed to get to this point is daunting. Knowledge is what makes this robbery okay. Robbery is not the right word, though, because the information is available to anyone willing to study, to do the homework. “If you buy something off someone’s table, you don’t owe them anything,” Avery says. The dealer is responsible for setting the asking price. Caveat venditor.
Why do people start collecting stuff? Stuff that often overwhelms their lives and homes. “... from the mid-1990s to the mid-2000s storage unit rentals increased by 90 percent.” Avery’s house had become a warren of paths and finally, using yard sales and group sales shops, and lots of time, he managed to reduce the quantity somewhat. The conundrum was that in order to sell, he had to buy, and determining what to take to any given show on any given weekend was always difficult, but he had to have lots of “stuff.” The impulse to collect begins as early as age three, a tendency that fast food restaurants and toy manufacturers exploit by marketing sets of toys and urging kids to “collect them all.” And some collecting is just weird. “Photographer Amy Kubes has collected her toenails since 1995. “I’ve never missed a cutting,” she wrote. William Davies King, author of Collections of Nothing, has “seventeen to eighteen thousand labels,” including labels from forty-four brands of canned tuna. “I’ll spare you the clams, crabmeat, mussels, oysters, sardines, snails, herring, salmon, and kipper snack” labels, he writes. “
Lots of delectable information. Did you know, for example,
In a single year, 1859, just one glass factory in France produced eighty million bottles for opium. Until it was banned in 1905, opium was cheaper than beer or gin, and easily purchased in grocery stores, by mail, and over the counter at pharmacies. Parents even gave opium to fussy babies, a product like Street’s Infants’ Quietness, which “quieted” many infants through death by overdose. In Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, Thomas de Quincey called opium a “panacea for all human woes” and “the secret of happiness.” Opium addiction was so widespread that an English pharmacist, C. R. Alder Wright, formulated a derivative called diacetylmorphine, which he hoped would be less addicting. The new drug, sold by the German company Bayer, was called Heroin for its heroic ability to cure. Heroin was the best-selling drug brand of its time.
And the hint of the day: “It might surprise antiques dealers to learn that a recent study found that low starting bids yielded higher final prices, at least on the Internet. In 2006, researchers sought to discover the causes behind this “reversal of the anchoring effect,” so they set up simultaneous auctions on eBay. Their study showed that when the starting bid is low, anyone can jump in (“reduced barriers to entry”). This increases activity, causing a “sheep effect” (my term—if everyone else wants something, then it must be valuable).”
May 10, 2019
This book takes place over several years as the author follows her friend, an antique dealer, around to several sales and shows to get a picture of the subculture surrounding the business. She also touches on the collectors who keep the business going. The basic format is a discussion with the main guy she’s profiling, Curt Avery (a pseudonym) about how he got into the business, expensive lessons he’s learned, his processes, etc; interspersed with a few chapters about antiques, antiquing, collectors, and collecting in general. She also talks about Antiques Roadshow, Martha Stewart, and high-end auctions. The author accompanies Avery to several shows as he tries to make some sales (and makes some buys too!)
In a chapter about how collecting can get out of hand, we hear about 19th century book collector Sir Thomas Phillipps: “When Phillipps moved in 1864, it took 103 carriage loads (involving some 230 horses and 160 men) to move his books, manuscripts, prints, charts, maps, and other ephemera” (p 138). I see you, Sir Thomas. This chapter actually gave me anxiety while I was reading it: “Sir Henry Wellcome… filled eight warehouses in England, a former laundry facility, stables, and rooms in his company, Burroughs Wellcome. ‘But still there was not enough space’” (p 138). “Andy Warhol’s possessions filled all but two rooms of his five-story Manhattan townhouse when he died in 1987” (p 138). “The collection of Prince Rudolf… grew so vast that he had to build new rooms, galleries, and entire new buildings” (p 137).
My personal favorite time period is the 20s up through the early 60s. The things that I get excited about (Russell Wright American Modern, Franciscan Atomic Starburst, and Eva Zeisel pottery) are not even mentioned. Most of the dealers and collectors in this book are all about the true OLD stuff. However, the market is moving…. There are collectors of vintage toys, comic books, and advertising. Many of the “vintage” toys are from the 70s and 80s – my time. “Rotary phones, computers, slide rules – the very notion of ‘antique’ is creeping closer to the present moment” (p 251).
An interesting slice of one dealer’s life and how he handles the ups and downs and his own full house.
In a chapter about how collecting can get out of hand, we hear about 19th century book collector Sir Thomas Phillipps: “When Phillipps moved in 1864, it took 103 carriage loads (involving some 230 horses and 160 men) to move his books, manuscripts, prints, charts, maps, and other ephemera” (p 138). I see you, Sir Thomas. This chapter actually gave me anxiety while I was reading it: “Sir Henry Wellcome… filled eight warehouses in England, a former laundry facility, stables, and rooms in his company, Burroughs Wellcome. ‘But still there was not enough space’” (p 138). “Andy Warhol’s possessions filled all but two rooms of his five-story Manhattan townhouse when he died in 1987” (p 138). “The collection of Prince Rudolf… grew so vast that he had to build new rooms, galleries, and entire new buildings” (p 137).
My personal favorite time period is the 20s up through the early 60s. The things that I get excited about (Russell Wright American Modern, Franciscan Atomic Starburst, and Eva Zeisel pottery) are not even mentioned. Most of the dealers and collectors in this book are all about the true OLD stuff. However, the market is moving…. There are collectors of vintage toys, comic books, and advertising. Many of the “vintage” toys are from the 70s and 80s – my time. “Rotary phones, computers, slide rules – the very notion of ‘antique’ is creeping closer to the present moment” (p 251).
An interesting slice of one dealer’s life and how he handles the ups and downs and his own full house.
October 11, 2011
As a fledgling antiques dealer myself, I found this a fascinating, informative, and inspirational read. 'Killer Stuff and Tons of Money" is a first-hand look behind the scenes of the antiques trade, framed around the story of "Curt Avery" (a real dealer protected by a pseudonym), a good friend of the author's. His story is typical of many dealers; beginning small with the antique bottles he digs up and collects, he becomes thoroughly knowledgeable in that niche and starts to trade in them, making a significant profit. Soon his interactions with other dealers, collectors, and auction houses provides a broader education and appreciation for old objects, and his trade widens to include antique furniture, pottery, glassware, treen -- always trading up to buy better objects with his earnings, and in the process moving from tables at flea markets to good mid-level antiques shows. His knowledge broadens and deepens through reading and hands-on experience, and occasionally, painful lessons learned from expensive mistakes made purchasing reproductions and forgeries. Now that he's a successful and respected antiques dealer, he has to watch out for 'shadows' at auction noting which pieces he's marked to bid on, while also contending with professional jealousy and competition for the best objects -- and sometimes, the snobbery endemic at the highest end of the antiques trade. It's not an easy life, but it's an interesting way to make a living, sometimes very lucrative, and also one that should excite some envy in anyone who's caught the 'antiques bug'. What really drives this trade (or should -- sadly, there are exceptions) is a passion for the objects and their history, which Avery clearly has in spades.
Stanton got the this insider's view -- and the idea for this book, evidently her first -- after years of tagging along with her friend Curt, helping to set up shows and just listening to him and his colleagues talk. It's a fascinating world, with much wheeling and dealing, big profits realized sometimes in a matter of minutes, and occasionally some serious chicanery. It's also populated by many eccentrics who make for a colorful cast of characters -- and more familiar figures, like the Keno brothers of Antiques Roadshow fame. Best of all, lots of 'shop talk' is reported, exposing both unscrupulous practices to look out for, and many specific tips any serious collector will benefit from -- what kind of 'sleeper' objects to look for, some pitfalls to avoid, and how to tell if a given piece is 'right', has been 'improved' or is an outright fake. Highly recommended to any antiques enthusiast, and a must-read for anyone in (or who aspires to be in) the trade.
Stanton got the this insider's view -- and the idea for this book, evidently her first -- after years of tagging along with her friend Curt, helping to set up shows and just listening to him and his colleagues talk. It's a fascinating world, with much wheeling and dealing, big profits realized sometimes in a matter of minutes, and occasionally some serious chicanery. It's also populated by many eccentrics who make for a colorful cast of characters -- and more familiar figures, like the Keno brothers of Antiques Roadshow fame. Best of all, lots of 'shop talk' is reported, exposing both unscrupulous practices to look out for, and many specific tips any serious collector will benefit from -- what kind of 'sleeper' objects to look for, some pitfalls to avoid, and how to tell if a given piece is 'right', has been 'improved' or is an outright fake. Highly recommended to any antiques enthusiast, and a must-read for anyone in (or who aspires to be in) the trade.
Read
October 31, 2022Author Maureen Stanton followed Curt Avery as he picked flea markets and sold his wares at antique shows on the East Coast. He tutored her in antiques and the value of old objects. Over the course of several years, the expeditions came to include everything from the largest antique markets to the off-the-beaten path flea markets, where Avery finds treasures to sell or add to his too-large collection at home. The reader gets to follow along with both author and subject and benefit from their knowledge and others met along the way.
This book examines the Antiques Roadshow television show, the best auction houses in the world, as well as Avery's colleagues, who make a living selling America's past. The recent trend of collecting or not collecting is examined, as are the collectors themselves. Fraud and reproductions make appearances in Stanton's book, too. This book is as fascinating as the old and remarkable items bought and sold for profit.
- Lynn, Dearborn
This book examines the Antiques Roadshow television show, the best auction houses in the world, as well as Avery's colleagues, who make a living selling America's past. The recent trend of collecting or not collecting is examined, as are the collectors themselves. Fraud and reproductions make appearances in Stanton's book, too. This book is as fascinating as the old and remarkable items bought and sold for profit.
- Lynn, Dearborn
August 26, 2011
A look at the fascinating world of antique dealers through the eyes of a lower-level dealer who is rough-edged but endearing in his passion for antiques and the history they represent. The author followed this self-taught expert over the course of many years and it is interesting to see how the dealer grows and changes as he struggles to survive in this tough world. Also was interested in seeing how our new generations attitudes toward antiques (they’re more interested in a nice reproduction from Pottery Barn) and the Antique Roadshow are effecting the antique business. I was surprised by how hard a life it is for someone selling at this level (unpacking and re-packing a truckload of items day in and day out to exhibit at various shows) and I was dismayed to learn how little value most collectibles have (yes, you’re right I have a few old things – pretty sure not going to get rich from any of them!).
July 21, 2017
This book was tedious to read but I still found it interesting and informative. As a lover of estate sales, I too am always on the hunt for the big find.
October 26, 2019
Excellent book! And as a New Englander who has loved antiquing (especially at Brimfield) since I was a teen, I could totally relate. For all of those wimps who complained about the "bad language" that's how we fricking talk in the Boston area.
September 24, 2011
I won this book on Goodreads giveaways and was particularly interested in the fact that it focuses a lot on New England antiques shows, like the one at Brimfield, Massachusetts. My grandparents lived just down the road from the Brimfield flea market and although I probably only visited the event once when I was a child, I've passed by the location many, many times and know it well.
This book is a fascinating account of the lure of buying, collecting and selling various items (primarily early American antiques) and the hard work involved in the antique business. The author spent years shadowing a mid-level antiques dealer and offers a glimpse into his life.
I find it interesting, in the age of reality televsion, that this dealer and most of his associates prefer to be referred to by fake names in order to protect their anonymity. Given the popularity of Pawn Stars and American Pickers, I would expect that many of these dealers would be more interested in cashing in on the craze.
This factual account is lengthy and not overly exciting, but provides a detailed view of the industry and a little insight into popular culture icons like the television show, Antiques Roadshow. Maureen Stanton has obviously done a lot of in-depth research on the topic and I learned a lot by reading this book. For example, I was thrilled to learn a little more about a potter we've read about in the book, Dave the Potter: Artist, Poet, Slave. There's also a slice of more contemporary collectibles, including comic books, GI Joe dolls and other fads from the recent past.
The author describes collecting as much about the thrill of the hunt as it is about any individual find. Her anecdote about her childhood search for the perfect seashell (in the beginning of Chapter 12) reminds me of my own hunt for glass ball fishing floats. We lived near the ocean for several years and I hunted so many times for one, but was never successful; plastic floats are ubiquitous, but I've never found a glass one washed up on the beach. One Valentine's Day, my darling hubby purchased a small one and hid it among the seaweed on "our beach." I was thrilled to discover it, but his eagerness to join me on my hunt and the beautiful condition of the float made it very obvious that this was a present from him and not a true find for me. While I love it, my eyes will forever be trained to the sand in search of the elusive glass orb.
Overall, I thought this was a slow, but enjoyable read and I am glad that I won this book. I feel like going out to a local antiques shop and bringing home a little bit of history.
interesting quotes:
"'Collecting is a way of linking past, present, and future. Objects from the past get collected in the present to preserve them for the future.' Collecting is about time itself--that thing none of us has enough of, all of us will run out of, and nobody can even contain, stop, control, or change. Objects reflect identity--the sense of self." (p. 26)
"The most important object of a collection is the next one." (p. 155)
new words: crizzling, pontil, tegestologist, pillioned
This book is a fascinating account of the lure of buying, collecting and selling various items (primarily early American antiques) and the hard work involved in the antique business. The author spent years shadowing a mid-level antiques dealer and offers a glimpse into his life.
I find it interesting, in the age of reality televsion, that this dealer and most of his associates prefer to be referred to by fake names in order to protect their anonymity. Given the popularity of Pawn Stars and American Pickers, I would expect that many of these dealers would be more interested in cashing in on the craze.
This factual account is lengthy and not overly exciting, but provides a detailed view of the industry and a little insight into popular culture icons like the television show, Antiques Roadshow. Maureen Stanton has obviously done a lot of in-depth research on the topic and I learned a lot by reading this book. For example, I was thrilled to learn a little more about a potter we've read about in the book, Dave the Potter: Artist, Poet, Slave. There's also a slice of more contemporary collectibles, including comic books, GI Joe dolls and other fads from the recent past.
The author describes collecting as much about the thrill of the hunt as it is about any individual find. Her anecdote about her childhood search for the perfect seashell (in the beginning of Chapter 12) reminds me of my own hunt for glass ball fishing floats. We lived near the ocean for several years and I hunted so many times for one, but was never successful; plastic floats are ubiquitous, but I've never found a glass one washed up on the beach. One Valentine's Day, my darling hubby purchased a small one and hid it among the seaweed on "our beach." I was thrilled to discover it, but his eagerness to join me on my hunt and the beautiful condition of the float made it very obvious that this was a present from him and not a true find for me. While I love it, my eyes will forever be trained to the sand in search of the elusive glass orb.
Overall, I thought this was a slow, but enjoyable read and I am glad that I won this book. I feel like going out to a local antiques shop and bringing home a little bit of history.
interesting quotes:
"'Collecting is a way of linking past, present, and future. Objects from the past get collected in the present to preserve them for the future.' Collecting is about time itself--that thing none of us has enough of, all of us will run out of, and nobody can even contain, stop, control, or change. Objects reflect identity--the sense of self." (p. 26)
"The most important object of a collection is the next one." (p. 155)
new words: crizzling, pontil, tegestologist, pillioned
June 19, 2011
I'm very fond of shows like Antiques Roadshow or the British game show that gives contestants money, sends them off into a flea market to spend their money, and then whoever gets the most for the item at an auction wins. I like antique stores and junk stores and yard sales and flea markets. I love to look at the stuff and to learn about its history. What I don't want to do is collect it. I have a huge aversion to accumulating stuff just to accumulate it. I do have lots of books, but I could walk away from all of them. If I suddenly became a billionaire I'd collect art and first editions and maybe that's my real problem - my tastes are too expensive for my means.
Killer Stuff and Tons of Money provides entertaining insight into the lives of antique dealers as they move from show to show, collecting items for themselves and for others, and always in search of the Holy Grail of the one good thing. It's a field that has an extremely high barrier to entry, requiring encyclopedic knowledge of material objects, their makers, their historical context, and their shifting worth. Ms. Stanton's book gives those of us who can't hurdle that barrier insight to what it's like in the world of collectors.
There's an interesting conversation to be had about whether the assigned worth of an object makes it worth having or whether it's worth having just because it appeals to you. I don't typically buy objects as an investment, but intellectually I can understand why people do so. This book definitely stimulated my thinking about what people buy, how they value it, and why.
Ms. Stanton's book provides history and examination of all kinds of information related to stuff, including some tips and tricks of the trade (although I wonder how many people could really utilize these). Curt Avery, the star of the show, is engaging and interesting and full of history. The read is consistently enjoyable and the experience is much like reading a thriller as you get sucked into that search for the illusive one good thing.
Killer Stuff and Tons of Money provides entertaining insight into the lives of antique dealers as they move from show to show, collecting items for themselves and for others, and always in search of the Holy Grail of the one good thing. It's a field that has an extremely high barrier to entry, requiring encyclopedic knowledge of material objects, their makers, their historical context, and their shifting worth. Ms. Stanton's book gives those of us who can't hurdle that barrier insight to what it's like in the world of collectors.
There's an interesting conversation to be had about whether the assigned worth of an object makes it worth having or whether it's worth having just because it appeals to you. I don't typically buy objects as an investment, but intellectually I can understand why people do so. This book definitely stimulated my thinking about what people buy, how they value it, and why.
Ms. Stanton's book provides history and examination of all kinds of information related to stuff, including some tips and tricks of the trade (although I wonder how many people could really utilize these). Curt Avery, the star of the show, is engaging and interesting and full of history. The read is consistently enjoyable and the experience is much like reading a thriller as you get sucked into that search for the illusive one good thing.
July 13, 2019
As someone who loves flea markets, the Goodwill, and every yard sale that I stop at on a Saturday morning in summer, this is a must-read. I actually read this book several years ago, but recently picked it up again. I also regularly recommend it to friends who share my interest in the search and discovery of treasure. There is a chapter that goes behind the scenes at Antiques Road Show and another that traces the evolution of an object from table to table (the price rising each time) at a flea market. This book will change the way you look at those knickknacks in the dusty corner shop and on the table at Brimfield--if you're from the East Coast. When I finished this book, I passed it to my husband who does not usually share my reading interests. But he couldn't put it down, either. The perfect combination of entertaining and informative.
June 23, 2011
A wonderfully written book with great insight into the life of an antique dealer. I felt like I was right there with the author in her adventures. I can't wait to go to a flea market to find my own treasures!
October 21, 2011
A fun and enlightening romp through the antiques trade. I enjoyed the main character and the author's inclusion of herself in the narrative was welcome rather than intrusive. I learned a lot and laughed some. Well worth reading.
August 2, 2021
Okay, I'm kind of the target audience for this book...casual flea marketer and thrifter...and I just spent three hours at an auction yesterday...but then I read this entire book last night and today.
It's not going to make you a better antique buyer (truth be told, I'm not really into the kind of antiques this book focusses on), in that it's not really giving tips and tricks, but it follows Stanton's friend "Avery" as he tries to make a living as a mid-level dealer on the flea market and antique show circuit, and it's very compelling.
Often when reading a non-fiction book on a quirky subject, I wish that I was just reading a New Yorker length article, but even though Stanton occasionally gets a little too cute with her writing ("I love this early Ouija board in Avery's booth, not for it's ability to predict the future, but for its power to summon the past."), she does an excellent job capturing the feel of Avery's life, and without getting too flowery shows the benefits and struggles that come of hardwork, honesty, and passion.
It's not going to make you a better antique buyer (truth be told, I'm not really into the kind of antiques this book focusses on), in that it's not really giving tips and tricks, but it follows Stanton's friend "Avery" as he tries to make a living as a mid-level dealer on the flea market and antique show circuit, and it's very compelling.
Often when reading a non-fiction book on a quirky subject, I wish that I was just reading a New Yorker length article, but even though Stanton occasionally gets a little too cute with her writing ("I love this early Ouija board in Avery's booth, not for it's ability to predict the future, but for its power to summon the past."), she does an excellent job capturing the feel of Avery's life, and without getting too flowery shows the benefits and struggles that come of hardwork, honesty, and passion.
October 10, 2011
This book is a Great Adventure! And it’s a great read!
Escorted into the mysterious behind-the-scenes world of antiquing by two very entertaining, engaging and trustworthy guides, you will never look at your own possessions, or your parents’ possessions or your grandparents’ possessions, the same ever again. Author Maureen Stanton invites her readers on her journey with antique dealer Curt Avery. We find ourselves camping in the rural hills of New England, waking up with the sunrise in order to set up the booth at Brimflield, behind the scenes during a filming of the Antiques Roadshow in Philadelphia, and braving sleet and commuter traffic in Boston with our destination being the Hubley auction house. We immediately become engrossed in not only the tales of what is collected, but also the how and the why of collecting. The story includes a colorful cast of both objects and characters, and their stories.
The book opens with Curt’s idea for a reality show featuring antique dealers. He sums up the plotline saying, with a thousand bucks in pocket, “You take a piece of shit and you turn it into a Chippendale Chair.” In Killer Stuff and Tons of Money we see this story line play out in its myriad variations over and over and over again. Each time features unexpected twists, surprises, disappointments, risks and rewards.
Curt Avery, a self-made man—a dealer—in the world of antique auctions and shows gives us the play by play as author Maureen Stanton illuminates each story line with exhaustive research on not only the history of the coveted objects, but intriguingly, our particular relationships through time with them. It’s like strolling the grounds of the Brimfield Flea Market with your older brother’s best friend who started out making money by selling bubble gum in the boys’ bathroom and has worked his way up to playing with the big boys, the big ticket items, the big risks, along with your favorite history teacher—the one who always told you the untold story of history, the juicy side of history.
Avery and Stanton each maintain their own particular stance as outsiders in this world where people scramble to become insiders. This makes for particularly entertaining and accessible reading. Maureen Stanton is an obvious outsider in that she frankly knows nothing about antiques save what she (and the reader) learns from Curt and from her exhaustive research prompted by Curt’s adventures. Curt’s outsider status stems from the items he chooses to deal in and his own personal code of ethics he stridently adheres to in a world where the notion of ethics can be quite fluid.
One particular example of this outsider status at work involves the duo doing research on a six-board blanket chest—the sort brought to New England by the earliest immigrants—that Avery bought under serendipitous circumstances. Curt Avery sets out to contact the Boston Museum of Fine Arts to see if he can uncover the true story (and thus the true value) of this purchase. Encountering difficulties even making phone contact with a human, Curt Avery called the museum’s “emergency number.” Through her wry lens, Maureen Stanton ponders the very existence of an emergency number for a museum. “The fact that the Museum of Fine Arts has an emergency number fills my mind with absurdities for which one might need this number. ‘Help…dying. Must see art.’” (p. 214) Later, after Curt Avery determines that his chest is, as he assessed, the sixth of only five previously “known” Tilden pieces, originating from Charles Tilden, as we learn from Stanton, who arrived in Massachusetts in 1634. Even as the proud (even smitten) owner of a very valuable antique, Curt Avery cannot shed his no-nonsense approach to the world in which this purchase took him. Commenting on his experience of the MFA and their nonchalant attitude toward an object of such historical import, Maureen recalls the story he told her about his eventual encounter with the MFA.
“’It may not be a huge money thing, but it will have historical value…The Museum of Fine Arts won’t buy it, though. They’ll buy some pigeon shit on tinfoil,’ he says, referring to an exhibit of contemporary art, ‘ten huge photos of people being shit on by birds.’
‘They had a huge room at the front dedicated to that, while the Pilgrim artifacts are stuffed into the basement at the end of this bleak, dimly lit hall.’ As Avery left the American collection one day, he passed a woman lecturing about bird photos. ‘She was explaining that this was art,’ he says. ‘I was appalled. As I walked out of the room, I muttered, ‘This stuff sucks.” It was my little rebel stand.’” (p. 215)
Curt Avery has a very deep reverence for the objects and the history that this world of antique wheelers and dealers revolve around, and some of the people. Not all of the people. But definitely some of the people. It’s a tough way to make a living and a tough way to make a life. Along with Curt Avery and Maureen Stanton, we awaken to countless sunrises in order to unpack countless boxes to prepare for the day which will end in packing up countless boxes, loading up the truck, only to do it all again the next day. However, the stress and strain are punctuated by beers shared around the campfire at the end of the day while telling tales with other dealers who really have become family after so many years. By the end of the book I was cheering Curt Avery on, begging him not to let cynicism, nor the physical toll of the work, nor the precarious state of the economy stop him from continuing his work, his passion, his calling to not just deal in but to, well really, caretake our shared heritage through this world of objects.
Escorted into the mysterious behind-the-scenes world of antiquing by two very entertaining, engaging and trustworthy guides, you will never look at your own possessions, or your parents’ possessions or your grandparents’ possessions, the same ever again. Author Maureen Stanton invites her readers on her journey with antique dealer Curt Avery. We find ourselves camping in the rural hills of New England, waking up with the sunrise in order to set up the booth at Brimflield, behind the scenes during a filming of the Antiques Roadshow in Philadelphia, and braving sleet and commuter traffic in Boston with our destination being the Hubley auction house. We immediately become engrossed in not only the tales of what is collected, but also the how and the why of collecting. The story includes a colorful cast of both objects and characters, and their stories.
The book opens with Curt’s idea for a reality show featuring antique dealers. He sums up the plotline saying, with a thousand bucks in pocket, “You take a piece of shit and you turn it into a Chippendale Chair.” In Killer Stuff and Tons of Money we see this story line play out in its myriad variations over and over and over again. Each time features unexpected twists, surprises, disappointments, risks and rewards.
Curt Avery, a self-made man—a dealer—in the world of antique auctions and shows gives us the play by play as author Maureen Stanton illuminates each story line with exhaustive research on not only the history of the coveted objects, but intriguingly, our particular relationships through time with them. It’s like strolling the grounds of the Brimfield Flea Market with your older brother’s best friend who started out making money by selling bubble gum in the boys’ bathroom and has worked his way up to playing with the big boys, the big ticket items, the big risks, along with your favorite history teacher—the one who always told you the untold story of history, the juicy side of history.
Avery and Stanton each maintain their own particular stance as outsiders in this world where people scramble to become insiders. This makes for particularly entertaining and accessible reading. Maureen Stanton is an obvious outsider in that she frankly knows nothing about antiques save what she (and the reader) learns from Curt and from her exhaustive research prompted by Curt’s adventures. Curt’s outsider status stems from the items he chooses to deal in and his own personal code of ethics he stridently adheres to in a world where the notion of ethics can be quite fluid.
One particular example of this outsider status at work involves the duo doing research on a six-board blanket chest—the sort brought to New England by the earliest immigrants—that Avery bought under serendipitous circumstances. Curt Avery sets out to contact the Boston Museum of Fine Arts to see if he can uncover the true story (and thus the true value) of this purchase. Encountering difficulties even making phone contact with a human, Curt Avery called the museum’s “emergency number.” Through her wry lens, Maureen Stanton ponders the very existence of an emergency number for a museum. “The fact that the Museum of Fine Arts has an emergency number fills my mind with absurdities for which one might need this number. ‘Help…dying. Must see art.’” (p. 214) Later, after Curt Avery determines that his chest is, as he assessed, the sixth of only five previously “known” Tilden pieces, originating from Charles Tilden, as we learn from Stanton, who arrived in Massachusetts in 1634. Even as the proud (even smitten) owner of a very valuable antique, Curt Avery cannot shed his no-nonsense approach to the world in which this purchase took him. Commenting on his experience of the MFA and their nonchalant attitude toward an object of such historical import, Maureen recalls the story he told her about his eventual encounter with the MFA.
“’It may not be a huge money thing, but it will have historical value…The Museum of Fine Arts won’t buy it, though. They’ll buy some pigeon shit on tinfoil,’ he says, referring to an exhibit of contemporary art, ‘ten huge photos of people being shit on by birds.’
‘They had a huge room at the front dedicated to that, while the Pilgrim artifacts are stuffed into the basement at the end of this bleak, dimly lit hall.’ As Avery left the American collection one day, he passed a woman lecturing about bird photos. ‘She was explaining that this was art,’ he says. ‘I was appalled. As I walked out of the room, I muttered, ‘This stuff sucks.” It was my little rebel stand.’” (p. 215)
Curt Avery has a very deep reverence for the objects and the history that this world of antique wheelers and dealers revolve around, and some of the people. Not all of the people. But definitely some of the people. It’s a tough way to make a living and a tough way to make a life. Along with Curt Avery and Maureen Stanton, we awaken to countless sunrises in order to unpack countless boxes to prepare for the day which will end in packing up countless boxes, loading up the truck, only to do it all again the next day. However, the stress and strain are punctuated by beers shared around the campfire at the end of the day while telling tales with other dealers who really have become family after so many years. By the end of the book I was cheering Curt Avery on, begging him not to let cynicism, nor the physical toll of the work, nor the precarious state of the economy stop him from continuing his work, his passion, his calling to not just deal in but to, well really, caretake our shared heritage through this world of objects.
March 16, 2022
My husband and I both read this and we both wanted to go back to Maine and our life ten years ago. I had an antique shop in Texas in the 1980s and that's how we met. It was so much fun to shop and travel. Eventually we retired and moved to Maine where we once again loved the shopping and the thrill of the chase. Then we sold that house and left a lot of our wonderful stuff. We have been so sad and feel so stupid for leaving that house and all that stuff. This brought back memories of the fun.
January 3, 2018
Interesting behind the scenes look at the life of an antiques dealer. Stanton also includes commentary on consumer behavior especially why we buy certain items over others. Overall, an easy, but not always "fast" read. Sentence structure can be a little odd at times which forced me to re-read a couple of sections, but I would still rate this a 4. If you like history, psychology, colorful characters and good story telling add this to your list of books to read.
August 13, 2021
Deep dive into antique collecting and selling. I knew nothing about this world and enjoyed the book a lot. It felt as if the author didn’t care about some of the later chapters, though (comic books, recent collectibles) and that came through to the reader as a sort of “you shouldn’t care about this chapter.” The early ones focused on one dealer and his expertise in early Americana were terrific, though.
October 20, 2024
This is a fun little book about the state of the antiques business and the circuits (antique shows, flea markets, auctions) in the mid 2000's in New England...specifically a friend of hers who is a mid level dealer and also a voracious collector as well. These are my kinds of people and it was a quick and entertaining read.
June 16, 2025
The main thing I'm taking away from this book is how incredibly specialized you have to be to be a successful antique dealer! It's so interesting to look at the minutiae of what makes something authentic or a valuable piece. I don't know if I'll find a hidden gem that turns out to be worth millions anytime soon, but I'll definitely be more thoughtful the next time I'm in an antique store.
September 3, 2018
Informational and well-written. I heard about this book on Mike Ivankovich's radio program online and decided to read it for possible help with moving some of the older things that may have value out of the household.
July 28, 2025
A bit dated, but still an interesting read. An engaging and friendly narrative - not at all stodgy or dry - makes this an easy and quick read. Recommended for anyone who has an appreciation for vintage and antique, or those interested in learning more about the “open air antique show” business.
June 27, 2017
If you want a look at the good, bad and ugly behind the scenes look at antiques dealer then this is the book for you. First hand experiences of the author on her journeys.
July 21, 2017
The book is an easy read with a wealth of knowledge! A must read.
October 31, 2018
If you've ever stopped at an antiques store or watched Antiques Roadshow, you'll enjoy this inside look at the industry. What a complex world!
March 26, 2019
Excellent ! I love it!
Read
December 20, 2025This has sparked a fire of antiques in me and I really want to meet Curt Avery
July 1, 2016
I'm an incurable collector. First there were things that didn't cost anything: fossils, stamps, buttons, a china chocolate set I dug out of a trash can and a Victorian rocking chair that I got from the curb. Later there were books, frogs, flatware, and boxes. I love Antiques Roadshow. We would plan our vacations around antique shows, junk stores, book shops, and flea markets. The Keno boys grew up around here (and they are much tougher than they look).
The major and best part of the book are the chapters where we get the inside scoop in what it is like to be an antiques dealer by following Maine dealer Curt Avery (not his real name) as he buys here and there and sells at higher-end antique shows. Along the way he instructs the author (and us) on the ins and outs of dug bottles, red ware and (his favorite) six-plank blanket chests. There's a lot of information about buying, selling antiques, finding bargains, making costly mistakes, recognizing fakes, and the physics of why, at the end of an antique show, half as many antiques take up twice as much room in the van.
The author tagged along as Avery's assistant, unpacking the van, setting up his booth, learning from him along the way and taking notes for this book. Occasionally the lessons didn't soak all the way in. On page 52 she tells us that she "saw it on eBay for $75" but did it sell for that? She doesn't say. She buys silver plate flatware thinking that it was sterling silver when anyone should be able to tell them apart. As Avery informs her, it's written on the back.
But sometimes we catch Avery sounding a little too sure of himself. On page 53 he tells the author that the lady in front of them has bought all the wrong pieces from a dealer's table. She bought blue glass from England instead of the more desirable American pieces. But, unless he's psychic, he has no idea what she collects. Perhaps she collects British blue glass.
There were some side-trips to tell us about collecting in general. These were interesting when the author used Avery or one of Avery's colleagues to tell us about various collectibles and offer anecdotes about the dangers of eBay, and how to recognize repairs, restoration and forgery. But they became interruptions when they were simply inserted like cut & paste from Wikipedia.
The only bad part of the book was a bit about modern collectibles that was just sort of tacked on near the end. There was a bunch of stuff about comic books that only vaguely tied in to the rest of the book and should have been shorter and a section about My Little Pony collectibles that was just totally ridiculous and should have been deleted.
I learned a wonderful new word for the cabinet of curiosities in my parlor: Wunderkammer.
On page 7 the author pulled me up short when she described Avery as handsome "...in a rugged Bruce Springsteen way..." I struggled for a minute to stuff "rugged" and "Bruce Springsteen" into the same sentence.
We're really nit picking now: I wondered why, on page 168, the author states that "a dealer spots Avery's netsuki in a glass case, which he calls 'net-ski.'" She makes it sound like he just sort of randomly decided to call them that; but that's what they're called.
On page 215 Avery says, referring to a contemporary art exhibit "ten huge photos of people being shit on by birds." Although shit is not incorrect it just sounds funny to me used in the past tense. Right now, the conventional usage favors shat. The favored alternative is shitted.
The major and best part of the book are the chapters where we get the inside scoop in what it is like to be an antiques dealer by following Maine dealer Curt Avery (not his real name) as he buys here and there and sells at higher-end antique shows. Along the way he instructs the author (and us) on the ins and outs of dug bottles, red ware and (his favorite) six-plank blanket chests. There's a lot of information about buying, selling antiques, finding bargains, making costly mistakes, recognizing fakes, and the physics of why, at the end of an antique show, half as many antiques take up twice as much room in the van.
The author tagged along as Avery's assistant, unpacking the van, setting up his booth, learning from him along the way and taking notes for this book. Occasionally the lessons didn't soak all the way in. On page 52 she tells us that she "saw it on eBay for $75" but did it sell for that? She doesn't say. She buys silver plate flatware thinking that it was sterling silver when anyone should be able to tell them apart. As Avery informs her, it's written on the back.
But sometimes we catch Avery sounding a little too sure of himself. On page 53 he tells the author that the lady in front of them has bought all the wrong pieces from a dealer's table. She bought blue glass from England instead of the more desirable American pieces. But, unless he's psychic, he has no idea what she collects. Perhaps she collects British blue glass.
There were some side-trips to tell us about collecting in general. These were interesting when the author used Avery or one of Avery's colleagues to tell us about various collectibles and offer anecdotes about the dangers of eBay, and how to recognize repairs, restoration and forgery. But they became interruptions when they were simply inserted like cut & paste from Wikipedia.
The only bad part of the book was a bit about modern collectibles that was just sort of tacked on near the end. There was a bunch of stuff about comic books that only vaguely tied in to the rest of the book and should have been shorter and a section about My Little Pony collectibles that was just totally ridiculous and should have been deleted.
I learned a wonderful new word for the cabinet of curiosities in my parlor: Wunderkammer.
On page 7 the author pulled me up short when she described Avery as handsome "...in a rugged Bruce Springsteen way..." I struggled for a minute to stuff "rugged" and "Bruce Springsteen" into the same sentence.
We're really nit picking now: I wondered why, on page 168, the author states that "a dealer spots Avery's netsuki in a glass case, which he calls 'net-ski.'" She makes it sound like he just sort of randomly decided to call them that; but that's what they're called.
On page 215 Avery says, referring to a contemporary art exhibit "ten huge photos of people being shit on by birds." Although shit is not incorrect it just sounds funny to me used in the past tense. Right now, the conventional usage favors shat. The favored alternative is shitted.
August 31, 2011
I finally finished the book. I finished it about a week ago, but it took me a while to find the time to write the review. And I am glad I finally got to it because this is a book worth sharing with others.
Stanton spends time with and "shadows" Curt Avery (a pseudonym), a mid-range antiques dealer (you learn from reading this book that there is a hierarchy when it comes to antiques and those who deal in them). Curt may well be one of the few remaining passionate, knowledgeable, and honest dealers in a business that seems to be declining and under siege by fakes, reproductions, and less than scrupulous folks. Why does he continue? Some of it may be just habit, but a lot of it is that the man has found his passion in life. Stanton does an excellent job in presenting a portrait of Avery as wll as giving us an excellent look at the world of antiques trading.
Much of the book concentrates on following Avery from one antiques show to the next. This is often a cutthroat business where mistakes (buying something you thought was real but turns ou to be a fake, for instance) can be costly, and in rare times you just might find that one items out of nowhere that makes you a fortune. Between those two extremes, you have the middle of the road trading. In this middle path, you buy something, hope to resell it for a modest profit, then repeat the process again. This is a cycle that requires knowledge (often hard won knowledge), patience, a very good eye, and sometimes luck.
Traveling with Avery already makes for a pretty good book. Stanton gives us more. In between visits with Avery, the author has written good informative chapters on the trade and the history of collecting and antiques. For example, there is a chapter on the human habit of collecting things. Think about that for a moment. Odds are good you have a small collection of something in your home now. Whether it's comic books, pens, match books, stamps, or any other object, many people collect something. Most people collect things just for the fun of it with no intention to sell or make money.
Stanton does visit a comic book convention and takes a look at the comic book trade, by the way. Additionally, her chapter on the show Antiques Roadshow (AR from here on) gives an excellent discussion and a good look behind the scenes of the show. Stanton points out how AR, along with shows it has spawned, has created false expectations in viewers from thinking anything old is valuable (it is not) to just a matter of finding something in the attic. The reality is very different than what we see on television. The books goes a long way to dispel myths about antiques and collectibles and about those who trade and collect them. This is definitely a strength in the book.
Stanton covers a lot of ground, but she provides an accessible book that is a pleasure to read. There were a couple of passages, mostly in Chapter 8--the chapter on thieves and fakers--that were a little too technical and dry, but do not let that deter you. This is a book to read at a leisurely pace with your favorite relaxing beverage. You will be entertained, and you will learn a lot as well.
(In keeping disclosure rules, to keep the FCC happy, I am revealing I received this book from the publisher as part of a GoodReads giveaway).
Stanton spends time with and "shadows" Curt Avery (a pseudonym), a mid-range antiques dealer (you learn from reading this book that there is a hierarchy when it comes to antiques and those who deal in them). Curt may well be one of the few remaining passionate, knowledgeable, and honest dealers in a business that seems to be declining and under siege by fakes, reproductions, and less than scrupulous folks. Why does he continue? Some of it may be just habit, but a lot of it is that the man has found his passion in life. Stanton does an excellent job in presenting a portrait of Avery as wll as giving us an excellent look at the world of antiques trading.
Much of the book concentrates on following Avery from one antiques show to the next. This is often a cutthroat business where mistakes (buying something you thought was real but turns ou to be a fake, for instance) can be costly, and in rare times you just might find that one items out of nowhere that makes you a fortune. Between those two extremes, you have the middle of the road trading. In this middle path, you buy something, hope to resell it for a modest profit, then repeat the process again. This is a cycle that requires knowledge (often hard won knowledge), patience, a very good eye, and sometimes luck.
Traveling with Avery already makes for a pretty good book. Stanton gives us more. In between visits with Avery, the author has written good informative chapters on the trade and the history of collecting and antiques. For example, there is a chapter on the human habit of collecting things. Think about that for a moment. Odds are good you have a small collection of something in your home now. Whether it's comic books, pens, match books, stamps, or any other object, many people collect something. Most people collect things just for the fun of it with no intention to sell or make money.
Stanton does visit a comic book convention and takes a look at the comic book trade, by the way. Additionally, her chapter on the show Antiques Roadshow (AR from here on) gives an excellent discussion and a good look behind the scenes of the show. Stanton points out how AR, along with shows it has spawned, has created false expectations in viewers from thinking anything old is valuable (it is not) to just a matter of finding something in the attic. The reality is very different than what we see on television. The books goes a long way to dispel myths about antiques and collectibles and about those who trade and collect them. This is definitely a strength in the book.
Stanton covers a lot of ground, but she provides an accessible book that is a pleasure to read. There were a couple of passages, mostly in Chapter 8--the chapter on thieves and fakers--that were a little too technical and dry, but do not let that deter you. This is a book to read at a leisurely pace with your favorite relaxing beverage. You will be entertained, and you will learn a lot as well.
(In keeping disclosure rules, to keep the FCC happy, I am revealing I received this book from the publisher as part of a GoodReads giveaway).
May 1, 2016
3.75 stars.
I enjoyed this book, and you will, too, if you're interested in its primary topic of the world of higher-end flea markets and antique shows. There's an abundance of great detail about buying, selling, haggling, finding hidden gems, making mistakes, detecting fakes, navigating auctions, surviving the crushing schedule of a dealer's life on a road, and figuring out what to do when your house, garage and vehicle become filled with antiques.
I think there could have been a great book about *just* that aforementioned world, but the book tries to delve into a lot other topics, too. To me, that's to the detriment of the main narrative and the book's overall achievement.
The primary portion of the book is a "road trip" non-fiction narrative into the world of these antique shows, with the author's focus on protagonist Curt Avery (a pseudonym). Stanton is fully part of this action, inserting herself into Avery's world as his assistant and sometimes understudy. This is the best part of the book.
But there are also a number of side chapters away from the main narrative, on topics such as eBay; humans' general urge to collect, throughout history; antique repair, restoration and fakery; PBS' Antiques Roadshow; and, most irritatingly to me, a segment on comics, toys and modern collectibles toward that end of the book that really crushes the momentum. That last segment is too shallow to offer insight for comic book and toy collectors and too long, in my mind, to interest readers who would prefer to know more about bottles and redware and blanket chests and the traditional antiques that are the soul of the book.
The book comes close to going all in on "Curt Avery," which I think would have made for an incredibly compelling story. The biographical sections, the sections about his overcrowded house, the sections about his buying and selling philosophy, the sections about his desire to make it to the "next level" of antique dealing ... these are all gold. He's the star of the book, and Stanton gives us a much great detail, thanks to so many years of access. I think that could have been the whole book, with just a few sidebars more closely related to Avery's wor. He certainly bares his soul in lot of ways, but I wish Stanton had gone even deeper with her look at his life. A reason she doesn't is probably the same reason she granted him -- and, disturbingly, so many other real people in the book -- a pseudonym. Stanton explains the reasons for the anonymity, but it seems a weak defense to me.
The only other issue I had with the book are the occasional two- or three-page tangents on the history of a particular kind of object or type of collecting. They have the dry feel of encyclopedia entries and are not at all in keeping with the rest of the book's lively writing style. I found myself speed-reading some of them.
I'm sorry about the editor side of me making this such a critical review. It's just shy of a four-star book, and I do give it a full recommendation if you're interested in the topic. I just think it could have been something even greater. (And, yes, I suspect and understand that some of the content and structural decisions were almost certainly made to give the book the wider general appeal that frustrated me in spots.)
I enjoyed this book, and you will, too, if you're interested in its primary topic of the world of higher-end flea markets and antique shows. There's an abundance of great detail about buying, selling, haggling, finding hidden gems, making mistakes, detecting fakes, navigating auctions, surviving the crushing schedule of a dealer's life on a road, and figuring out what to do when your house, garage and vehicle become filled with antiques.
I think there could have been a great book about *just* that aforementioned world, but the book tries to delve into a lot other topics, too. To me, that's to the detriment of the main narrative and the book's overall achievement.
The primary portion of the book is a "road trip" non-fiction narrative into the world of these antique shows, with the author's focus on protagonist Curt Avery (a pseudonym). Stanton is fully part of this action, inserting herself into Avery's world as his assistant and sometimes understudy. This is the best part of the book.
But there are also a number of side chapters away from the main narrative, on topics such as eBay; humans' general urge to collect, throughout history; antique repair, restoration and fakery; PBS' Antiques Roadshow; and, most irritatingly to me, a segment on comics, toys and modern collectibles toward that end of the book that really crushes the momentum. That last segment is too shallow to offer insight for comic book and toy collectors and too long, in my mind, to interest readers who would prefer to know more about bottles and redware and blanket chests and the traditional antiques that are the soul of the book.
The book comes close to going all in on "Curt Avery," which I think would have made for an incredibly compelling story. The biographical sections, the sections about his overcrowded house, the sections about his buying and selling philosophy, the sections about his desire to make it to the "next level" of antique dealing ... these are all gold. He's the star of the book, and Stanton gives us a much great detail, thanks to so many years of access. I think that could have been the whole book, with just a few sidebars more closely related to Avery's wor. He certainly bares his soul in lot of ways, but I wish Stanton had gone even deeper with her look at his life. A reason she doesn't is probably the same reason she granted him -- and, disturbingly, so many other real people in the book -- a pseudonym. Stanton explains the reasons for the anonymity, but it seems a weak defense to me.
The only other issue I had with the book are the occasional two- or three-page tangents on the history of a particular kind of object or type of collecting. They have the dry feel of encyclopedia entries and are not at all in keeping with the rest of the book's lively writing style. I found myself speed-reading some of them.
I'm sorry about the editor side of me making this such a critical review. It's just shy of a four-star book, and I do give it a full recommendation if you're interested in the topic. I just think it could have been something even greater. (And, yes, I suspect and understand that some of the content and structural decisions were almost certainly made to give the book the wider general appeal that frustrated me in spots.)
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