A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books

by Nicholas A. Basbanes

When first published, A Gentle Madness astounded and delighted readers about the passion and expense a collector is willing to make in pursuit of the book. Written before the emergence of the Internet but newly updated for the 21st Century reader, A Gentle Madness captures that last moment in time when collectors pursued their passions in dusty bookshops and street stalls, high stakes auctions, and the subterfuge worthy of a true bibliomaniac. An adventure among the afflicted, A Gentle Madness is vividly anecdotal and thoroughly researched. Nicholas Basbanes brings an investigative reporter s heart to illuminate collectors past and present in their pursuit of bibliomania. Now a timeless classic of collecting, no lover of books can miss A Gentle Madness.

Genres: Books About Books, Nonfiction, History, Reference, Literature, Biography, Writing

717 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1995

About the author

Nicholas A. Basbanes is an award-winning investigative journalist and was literary editor of the Worcester Sunday Telegram. His articles have appeared in The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, The Washington Post, and Smithsonian, and he is a recipient of a National Endowment for the Humanities Fellowship. Basbanes lives in North Grafton, Massachusetts.

Reviews

[karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

i just found out that this book is out of print. what gives? if you are reading this review, you probably like books. so do yourself a favor and go to abe.com or bookfinder and get a copy. now. this is the most loving book about book lovers i have ever read. collectors, sellers, hunters, owners, thieves, protectors, the obsessed and the absolutely insane. it's a nice fat book, but if you really are interested in books then it will be way too short for you. he is a great writer, and it's a shame it is out of print. but maybe you can get it on kindle. sigh.

on a personal note (for once) right now my house looks like a crazy-house. the night before i left for rhode island there were 4 separate book avalanches because i think i have officially reached the supersaturation point of books-to-space.then last night when i returned, there were a couple more. which means the next step is... storage. and i have put it off as long as i can, but i think it is time.it is heartbreaking to me - who will tuck them in at night? who will touch them and love them and tell them they are special? why don't i have a separate structure to house all my books, like one of the men in this book who converted houses and barns to accommodate his collection? (even though his was entirely stolen from libraries across the world) where are these wealthy book lovers who are bidding in auctions on tamerlane - why won't they send a fraction of the cost to make me a little reading hut? (it can be in the space where the diner closed down - i'm not picky)why are there so many books i feel i need? after reading this book, i felt less alone in my sickness, but being aware of a sickness is not enough to cure it. i will never stop the ruthless wanting and needing and collecting - even if my collection is for reading and not for fancy displaying. i may have to split my time between here and the storage facility, like my books are victims of a messy divorce and i will be a weekend mommy to the storage books. they will never understand...

come to my blog!

[Jason · Rating 3 out of 5]

As it turns out, I’m a fraud.

Compared to the stories told in this book, and the stories that surely countless others could tell of their own obsessions with the printed work, I’m like the guy in the back of a Star Wars convention who says, “Oh, I’ve seen Return of the Jedi once or twice, I think!” Because the fact is, you people are out of my league.

And that just might be the difference between liking this book—appreciating it for its humorous accounts of bibliomania and its interesting history of book collecting—and loving it on a level that only someone who personally identifies with the neurotic episodes contained therein can love it.

Objectively, there is plenty to find fascinating about A Gentle Madness, not the least of which is that it offers the healthy perspective of correlating batshit-crazy book collecting with the preservation of historical records. Without these nutsos doing their thing, it is not unreasonable to believe that many aspects of history might have otherwise been lost to the ages. Book collecting is important! At the same time, a majority of these book collectors are people with whom I cannot readily identify. For example, there is an account of an older woman who collected children’s books...thousands of them. Her interests leaned toward the rare, but truthfully she would have accepted anything into her collection that showed signs of being handled by actual, real-life children. You’d think her motivations were rooted in a love for children themselves, or at least in a desire to recapture her own childhood by allowing herself to be absorbed by these books. But nope! Her desire was simply to collect. She wanted no snotty brats touching her books, and she certainly had no interest in actually reading them. The reason I can’t relate to these experiences is that I feel as though I am the exact opposite. I love reading. I will read (practically) anything somebody gives me, or anything that catches my eye. But once I’m done with it, the book itself is fair game. In fact, I would rather give a book away for someone else to enjoy than keep it for myself. I understand this concept is foreign to most Goodreaders who proudly display photos of their bookshelves, or their “book porn” (which—seriously—is a practice that needs to STOP; unless the books are specifically pornographic in nature, they are not book porn), but that is how I differ from most of you psychos.

(However, I still love you all.)

[Richard Derus · Rating 4 out of 5]

This review has been revised (there is a new edition of the book) and can now be found at Expendable Mudge Muses Aloud!


This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

[GoldGato · Rating 4 out of 5]

Book collecting the is the focus of this book, with a myriad slate of real-life characters who have based their entire lives upon owning more books than others or just owning the right book. Some of the individuals only collected on very specific subjects while others filled their groaning shelves with as much as possible. It also looks at whether hoarders are collectors or vice versa.

Peer into them. Let them fall open where they will. Read on from the first sentence that arrests the eye. Then turn to another. Make a voyage of discovery, taking soundings of uncharted seas. Set them back on their shelves with your own hands. Arrange them on your own plan, so that if you do not know what is in them, you at least know where they are. If they cannot be your friends, let them at any rate be your acquaintances. If they cannot enter the circle of your life, do not deny them at least a nod of recognition.

Did you know that obsessive book collecting is the only hobby to have a disease named after it? Bibliomania. And this book discusses some real nuts, some of whom go to extraordinary measures to acquire their books. There are the usual collectors who only want first editions or the original Shakespeare folios or Gutenberg printings. But there are many more who specialize in American fiction, the Romantic poets, African-American literature, and so forth. There is Ruth M. Baldwin, who was the legendary rare-book librarian at the University of Florida. It was Baldwin who first began the hunt for children’s literature, so that she compiled the greatest collection for the university. There is Michael D. Hurley, an unknown postal worker who didn’t own a car or house but had compiled a huge collection of various books and refused to be parted from them.

Heartbroken at the loss of his eyesight in old age, the poet, scholar, and scientist Eratosthenes of Alexandria starved himself to death rather than live any longer without the companionship of his books.

I’ve always loved printed books, probably because my family didn’t have much. My father would take us to thrift stores where used books were cheap. No telly, no problem. My entire family loved to read and so I grew up with an appreciation for the printed word. As I have aged and moved around, most of my books have moved with me. As a collector, I have always enjoyed finding someone’s name or written notes inside their once-owned books and I always feel as though I am just the latest “custodian” of these items, which will eventually go somewhere else when I pass on from this earth. I’m not sure I am as obsessed with books as the people in this tome, but I am definitely a happy amateur.

Book Season = Winter (folio pillows)

[Mike (the Paladin) · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't know...I see all the 5 star ratings and, I guess some people were looking for or expecting something different from this book than I was. I found a great deal of it extremely interesting. The parts that seemed to be giving insight into bibliomania grabbed and held me. Too often however I found the book devolving into lists of books from given collections (and he opened the next wood box to reveal a vintage volume of Shakespeare) and/or what these books went for at auction. There were pages and pages listing book prices etc. I was looking more for insights into the mind (and possibly heart) of bibliophiles and their more criminal (sinister ?) cousins "bibliomaniacs".

I'd say many of us here are bibliophiles and I'm relatively sure most have had the experience of trying to get a book from the library that the computer (and before that the "card catalog". How many remember card catalogs?) said was in the library's collection....but it wasn't. It wasn't out for repair, no one had it checked out, wow...wonder where it went. And, there were always certain categories of books that seem/seemed to be stolen in every library I used.

So, the profiles were very interesting, especially that of Blumberg, who probably got the single most ink...but the facts and figures weren't what I hoped for. I'd like to have seen more interviews with the collectors (and possibly thieves) and more commentary from the doctors etc.

So, a good book and apparently it's a favorite of many. I'd have preferred more insights.

[robin friedman · Rating 5 out of 5]

A Passion For Books

Reading Nicholas Basbanes' lengthy and meandering work, "A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books" is much like one of the activities the book celebrates: browsing slowly through a large, packed used book store or a large library and becoming both enthused and overwhelmed. Basbanes' celebrates books, reading, and collecting and their eternal appeal. First published in 1995 by a different publisher, Fine Books Press reissued the book in 2012 with a new preface by the author that updates the reader on some of the individuals discussed in the text. Basbanes has written widely on book collecting. "A Gentle Madness" was his first and most successful book.

Basbanes examines the passion to collect books over the ages beginning no later than the ancient Greeks. He explores the reasons that have impelled individuals to collect books, sometimes at the expense of their health, friends or lovers, finances or sanity. Basbanes explores the kinds of books collectors seek and, most of all he explores the characters of the people who have made the collection of books their passion.

The book is divided into two large parts. The first part offers some broad thoughts on the nature of book collecting together with a history of book mania from the ancient world through the invention of the printing press, through Britain and early America. This part of the chronicle ends at about the mid-twentieth century. The second and longer part of the book discusses book collection through roughly the end of the twentieth century. Both parts of the book introduce fascinating characters, most of whom will be unfamiliar to readers who are not themselves avid and informed collectors.

The book both begins and ends with a consideration of a celebrated criminal case involving a man named Stephen Blumberg. In 1991, Blumberg was tried in Federal court for a long series of thefts from university libraries coast to coast. In his defense, Blumberg did not deny the thefts but instead offered an unsuccessful plea of insanity. According to Basbanes, a mobster approached Blumberg at one stage of pretrial proceedings and asked him why he used his obviously considerable criminal talents to steal books rather than "more liquid" items such as gold or diamonds. Blumberg replied to the astounded mafioso: "I never took the books to sell. The idea was to keep them." Blumberg's guilty passion for books was not motivated by the desire to get rich.

If not criminal, the passion for the books of the many remaining collectors in Basbanes' study is at least equally as strong as was Blumberg's. This book does not deal with small-scale, moderate collectors whose activities might themselves be worthy of study. Most of the people Basbanes describes are highly wealthy, through inheritance or through their own efforts, and spend, as the time comes closer to our own, increasingly large sums on books. Basbanes' tells of a world of expensive auction houses, buying agents, rare collections, and seemingly exorbitant prices. At times books and what they contain might seem to be slighted in this story of aggressive buying, selling, and collecting.

Basbanes' collectors seek early illuminated Bibles, folios of Shakespeare, first editions of Don Quixote, rare letters and manuscripts, obscure printings of early works by Edgar Allen Poe, and similar materials. There is also an emphasis on complete holdings of, say, American first editions, (or American books in general), or of works of a particular author ranging from William Faulkner to Charles Bukowski. Some of the best parts of this book describe a young man just out of college who dedicated his life to the preservation of the vast and largely untranslated literature in Yiddish from destruction. Other inspiring sections tell of two African Americans who devoted their lives to the collection and preservation of African American writings and artifacts from the United States and elsewhere in the Western hemisphere.

In some of this collecting mania, there seems to be a sense of acquisitiveness and competitiveness which overshadows the joys of reading. But for the most part Basbanes shows great sympathy for his collectors. For Basbanes, almost all of the individuals with a mania for book collection acted through their sense that the collective wisdom of human beings is found in the written word. Books contain what is lasting in life rather than what is passing or ephemeral. Collectors passed their collections to libraries in many instances or, when the collections were sold or dispersed, made books widely available to others.

In understanding books and the urge to collect, Basbanes quotes the 20th Century German author Walter Benjamin: "I am not exaggerating when I way that to a true collector the acquisition of an old book is a rebirth. This is the childlike element which in a collector mingles with the element of old age." Basbanes continues in his own words:

"[T]he closer people get to the source, the closer people feel to the wonders of creativity. Storytellers, philosophers, scientists, adventurers, artists, economists, politicians, diplomats, theologians, even evil despots ...articulate their thoughts between hard covers. To see and handle a first edition of Darwin's Origin of Species or Newton's Principia Mathematica is to touch ideas that change the way people live."

Discussions of books and collecting always remind me of one of my favorite authors, the reclusive late Victorian novelist George Gissing. Although Basbanes does not discuss Gissing, many of his titles are rare and prized by collectors. In his last novel, "The Private Life of Henry Ryecroft" (1903), Gissing has his title character, an aging author named Ryecroft, describe in many passages the love for reading and for books. At one point, Ryecroft says:

"I know men who say they had as lief read any book in a library copy as in one from their own shelf. To me that is unintelligible. For one thing, I know every book of mine by its scent, and I have but to put my nose between the pages to be reminded of all sorts of things. My Gibbon, for example, my well-bound eight-volume Milman edition, which I have read and read and read again for more than thirty years -- never do I open it but the scent of the noble page restores to me all the exultant happiness of that moment when I received it as a prize. Or my Shakespeare, the great Cambridge Shakespeare -- it has an odour which carries me yet further back in life; for these volumes belonged to my father, and before I was old enough to read them with understanding, it was often permitted me, as a treat, to take down one of them from the bookcase, and reverently to turn the leaves. The volumes smell exactly as they did in that old time, and what a strange tenderness comes upon me when I hold one of them in hand. For that reason I do not often read Shakespeare in this edition. My eyes being good as ever, I take the Globe volume, which I bought in days when such a purchase was something more than an extravagance; wherefore I regard the book with that peculiar affection which results from sacrifice."

I have a considerable, disorganized collection of books, none of which are likely to be rare, that I have accumulated over the years. Basbanes' "A Gentle Madness" moved and fascinated me but it did not make me yearn to be a collector in the manner described in the book. Rather, the book reminded me of the joy of reading and study. It made me cherish the time I have spent in the past and hope to spend in the future with books.

Robin Friedman

[Jeff · Rating 5 out of 5]

I first started reading this book soon after it was released. At that time I found it interesting, but got bored and put it down. I kept thinking, "It's more fun to collect books than it is to read about collecting books!" Recently I picked up this volume again, gave it a second chance, and couldn't stop reading! Don't know what made the difference. But the second time around I was spellbound. Maybe it's that I'm a lot like Basbanes, actually. Not to mention the fact that I see myself in many of the collectors he describes. I love books, have quite a collection myself, but will never EVER be a collector on the level of those who this book describes. I'll never own a Shakespeare folio, not anything nearly that rare. But I can vicariously live the life of the most successful bibliophiles through books like this. Basbanes does a wonderful job of descibing the pleasures of ultra-rare books. His descriptions of actually handling a Gutenberg bible make it seem as if you're right there with him, caressing the binding, inhaling the aroma of the paper, seeing and feeling the printer's impressions. This is a vicarious experience no book lover should miss.

[Cheryl · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’d say a rather informative compendium on book collecting and collectors. Ever wonder how libraries attain those archives? Bequeathed lovers of the printed word. Over 600 pages, including notes and bibliographies. Even included amongst the many “legit” collectors is the notorious book thief, Stephen Blumberg. A lover, for sure, amassing an estimated $20 million in stolen books, papers and such.

So many great collectors over the centuries and it’s intriguing to read how much they spent to attain their libraries filled with their preferred genres/editions/authors.

[YoSafBridg · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm not sure that i actually fall into the category of bibliophile or bibliomaniac, although i've often called myself one. I do have a collection of over 3,000 books (there are still so many in boxes that i haven't catalogued them all) but many of them i just bought because i wanted to read them and was afraid they might go out of print before i got a chance more than because i wanted to own a valuable possession. There are a few i own because i want to OWN, or read again, and again, but i am not, for the most part, a connoisseur. In fact, "one theory holds that the defining moment occurs when a person buys a book with the prior certainty that he will never read it, though others are less cynical," i don't know that i have ever bought a book with the prior certainty that i will never read it (well, perhaps i have not intended to read it cover to cover, but definitely Needed to have it immediately at hand for reference... or felt i did...)

A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books by Nicholas A. Basbanes tops out at 638 pages (but that’s with 103 pages of notes and index so you only have to wade through 535 pages of actual text). It starts out interestingly enough, with the preface and first chapter introducing the subject at hand and giving a brief gloss over the drive to collect books. The first part of the book is devoted to the history of book collecting and is an interesting chronicle of the development of many private libraries as well. One must have a sense of history to appreciate the history of any art including that of book and printmaking.

Not that the entire tome is boring, exactly, or i don't think i would read the entire thing, it's just that occasionally i would find myself at the end of the paragraph without any idea of what it said (do you ever do that? it's one thing when you're listening to some windbag go on and on or watching t.v. or something along those lines, but when you are reading, which is, in a sense, an active activity, and realize your mind is drifting... But in this case, it seems to be a rather orgasmic experience {just so i have your attention...} but more than that, perhaps i am a bibliophilliac after all, just reading about book collections, and book auctions, and books, well you know, some things do it for some of us, and many things do it for some of us [librarians are a sexual fantasy stereotype after all:]and what is it about orgasm that seems to wake women up and make men drowsy? Is it just a satisfaction thing, or some kind of evolutionary adaptation to ensure pregnancy and species diversion?]). Okay, back to the subject at hand...

I found the second part of the book to be a bit more intriguing as it provided more intimate sketches of the bibliomanes themselves (perhaps this was necessitated by the times~Basbanes only had interview access to live subjects, after all). An entire chapter is devoted to Stephen C. Blumberg, the biblioklept who stole from rare book collections of libraries across the country to amass his own reference collection (which he always considered his own personal ILL system~he was saving the libraries from themselves, really...)

Instead of admiration or even a sense of having found kindred spirits in this book, i found myself wanting to clear out many of my own processions which have become too numerous and cumbersome. One of my biggest fears is that i will die leaving a pile of crap that my niece and nephews will have to sort through for me. Even at my current rate of about 150 titles per year can i really read all of the books i own that i have not yet read (and with new ones constantly appearing do i really want to?) And what IS the point of ownership anyway? I've always had a need to hold on to things, as if i can hold on to people and to history and to all the feelings attached to them if i can just hold that thing in my hand. Poppycock! One of my purposes in blogging the books i read is to try and hold on to the memories of what i felt when reading so do i really need those pages?

Perhaps much of this is brought about by the fact that i have come to the sudden realization that i am in desperate need of about $7,000 like, yesterday (just to bring my bills current, mind you, to keep the creditors from repossessing my cats and the blood in my veins~hey, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing, if they could just replace it with some fresh, healthy, non-migrainey blood...because i have absolutely nothing of value) Maybe it's also just brought on by the fact that i'm tired of having so much damn stuff, and having to walk over, move it around, or plow through it constantly.

"Night after night I have spent carting down two flights of stairs more books than I ever thought I possessed. Journey after journey, as monotonously regular as the progresses of a train round the Inner Circles; upstairs empty-handed, and downstairs creeping with a decrepit crouch, a tall, crazy, dangerously bulging column of books wedged between my two hands and the indomitable point of my chin. the job simply has to be done; once it is started there is no escape from it; but at times during the process one hates books as the slaves who built the Pyramids must have hated public monuments. A strong and bitter bone-sickness floods one's soul. How ignominious to be strapped to this ponderous mass of paper, print, and dead men's sentiments! Would it not be better, finer, braver, to leave the rubbish where it lies and walk out into the world a free, untrammelled, illiterate Superman?"

~Solomon Eagle, Moving a Library

I won't even mention those multiple cross-country moves (even the cross-town moves are bad enough). Time to lighten up... While i'm still in the mood, but how?

How?

How?

[Kelly · Rating 4 out of 5]

A teetering tower of books with a filmy clothed girl of perhaps 14 sitting on top. A few choice beasts winding their way around the stacks. Description of...what? Well, only a picture I wish I could draw. But when I think of bibliophilia, I think of that. This not me coming out as a closeted book pervert. Quite the opposite. These children, in history and literature, were supposed to represent the innocent and quiet nature of learning, or knowledge. At least, that is how I have seen it widely interpreted. Yet, it was my fantasy to look exactly like that. Willowy figure, exuberant eyes. Instead of the elephantine adolescent that I was.

Unfortunately, this book reminded me of my pathetic gracelessness in which I exercised my teen years. Day in, day out (I am so glad that is over). On the flip side, it renewed my intellectual vigor for book cover art and the literary processes of forgotten years. Hi ho Gutenberg!

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[David Sumner · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you're a reader, a collector. If you love libraries, if you're fascinated by the intrigue of the business of "collecting," then you should more than enjoy this book. Books are big business, people sometimes literally die for books. Collectors are ruthless. Auctions are outrageous. Collections are made and destroyed. Books fuel an underground economy most of us are totally unaware of.

A Gentle Madness is a wonderful history of the book and some of the greatest book lovers of the world. At times it reads like a spy novel that puts you on pins and needles. It truly is a book you won't want to put down.

[Catherine · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of my very favorites. I own two copies and have given others to fellow bibliophiles. I'd say I too suffer from this Gentle Madness, but "suffer" is such the wrong word. There is so much pleasure in being mad for books. I'm also mad for book-lovers, what wonderfully interesting folk we are!

[Bob · Rating 5 out of 5]

Summary: An entertaining journey through the history and contemporary world of book collecting, and the “bibliomanes” whose passion for books formed amazing collections.

I think it is obvious that I love books. More precisely, I love reading books and talking about them. I do have a number of books in my home (and have donated or sold large numbers). I am a bibliophile, but not a bibliomane. This is the “gentle madness” Nicholas Basbanes writes about in this thick, delightful book you just don’t want to end because of the interesting stories of bibliomanes. The title comes from a description of Isaiah Thomas as being stricken with “the gentlest of infirmities, bibliomania.”

The most interesting difference between bibliophiles and bibliomanes, is that the former love reading books, while the latter collect them. The collectors usually have some focus in their collecting, from first editions of great books, to everything coming from the hand of a particular author or set of authors. I love finding books at the lowest price. Collectors pay attention to price but will spare no expense for something they want. At the very beginning, we meet a chef and restaurateur, Louis Szathmary, whose collection of cookbooks and artifacts filled sixteen semi-trailers and went to half a dozen institutions. And this is the fascinating part of the story. So often the collecting efforts of individuals accomplished what great libraries could not–forming distinctive collections that eventually enhanced these libraries’ holdings, whether Samuel Pepys, whose holdings went to Cambridge, John Harvard’s library that formed the core of the university named after him or the Huntington Library formed out of the personal collection of Henry Huntington. For that matter, Thomas Jefferson’s substantial library became the core of the Library of Congress.

Basbanes takes us through the fascinating world of booksellers, agents of buyers, and auctions of rare books. We are introduced to the high priced world of incunabula, early printed books, usually those printed before 1501. He describes a sale of Shakespeare’s First Folio, a collection of 36 plays for $2.1 million in 1989 (recently Christie’s auctioned a copy for $10 million). We learn of Ruth Baldwin who collected children’s books, eventually installing this collection at the University of Florida. Then there is Harry Hunt Ransom, who became the driving force behind the Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas. Ransom cozied up to Texas politicos awash in funds from the Texas oil industry.

One of the unavoidable realities of collecting was the death (or sometimes the insolvency) of the collector. The efforts and funds to build up a collection then required the organizing, curating, and protecting of these rare resources. Inevitably, the question arises of the disposition of the collection. We learn both about auctions that form the inheritance of future generations, and the intentional donation or sale of libraries to other institutions. In some cases, the donor came along with the library during their life as did Ruth Baldwin who oversaw the installation of her children’s books and continued to curate the collection until shortly before her death.

Perhaps the strangest story is that of the collector who stole rather than bought his collection. Stephen Carrie Blumberg amassed a collection of Americana in his home in Ottumwa, Iowa valued at roughly $20 million. It consisted of stolen materials from libraries from all over the country. His thefts involved everything from stolen or duplicated keys to crawling through ventilation systems. Eventually he was caught. Basbanes interviewed him during his trial, during which he recounted his drive to build “his” collection and how he obtained it.

This book has become something of a “classic” among book lovers. If nothing else, it is comfort to most of us who may be berated for how many books we have. If nothing else, we can point to people even more eccentric than we are. They are each uniquely eccentric, yet also incredibly focused to assemble their collections. We learn about this gentle madness that has existed as long as there were books, and even become acquainted with some through the author’s travels and discussions with them. And since this book is out of print (though listed on Amazon and other sites), you can have a taste of the fun of collecting in finding a copy. If you love books about books and those who collect them, this is a treasure trove for your own collection.

[Jane Cairns · Rating 5 out of 5]

A history of book collecting over the centuries, at 525+ pages (600+ pages including the bibliography and endnotes), this book is not for the faint of heart. I found it enlightening, but then I'm a book nerd who has become interested in book collecting in recent months. I guess I still love printed books better than digital copies. I started this book on my Nook, but couldn't get into it. I eventually bought a paperback copy and did make it all the way through. Actually glad I did.

[Ellen · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a wonderful book. It's one of those books I would not want to read at 1 sitting (a rare opinion for me) but like to use as a vacation from other books or after reading a particularly intense or long book.
Basbanes writes lovingly & with obvious fascination (maybe even admiration) of book lovers and their obsessions. His writing is itself gentle and his interest in the subject communicates itself to the reader. Although reading is my greatest passion, maybe in a sense my most real life, I have never been interested in collecting books (just their contents). However, I was led into this world by Brisbane's engaging writing & manner & stayed out of a growing fascination with his stories.

Basbanes writing, as well as the subject, make this a wonderful book for readers everywhere. It is a book that I would recommend owning as it is best consumed (like especially rich chocolate) a little at a time for as long as you can possibly stretch it out.

And then read again.

I recommend this book strongly to anyone with reading and books as a passion, whether or not they are book collectors.

[Mommalibrarian · Rating 2 out of 5]

Encyclopedic in scope. I doggedly read 240 pages out of 533 (638 if you want to include footnotes, bibliography and index). Every major book collector since the beginning of time is probably listed and discussed. The ones who had the forsight to gather contempory material were interesting. The ones who purchased books for their rarity and then locked them in bank vaults were strange and boring after the first couple. There were interesting bits on the history of books and libraries beginning with the ancient Egyptians but there are probably better books on those subjects. There may have been more excitement later in the book but I cried 'UNCLE'.

[Nathan · Rating 3 out of 5]

If one can subject him-or herself to the attacks of sickening envy that will inevitably strike those of us who don't have 75,000 dollars to blow on that extra-special tome, this book will prove to be a delight indeed. For those with weaker natures and thinner bank accounts, however, this book is an array of special tortures calculated to drive one mad with covetousness. An inspiration to bulk up my paltry collection, as well as a glimpse of high-rolling bibliomania that I can never hope to achieve.

[Bill · Rating 5 out of 5]

a definite must read for anyone who truly loves books...like me...I got in touch with the author and he very kindly let me mail him my copy, inscribed and signed it for me and mailed it back to me

[James Murphy · Rating 4 out of 5]

A book about what we share here at Goodreads, a passion for books. Mostly we read them, but Basbanes's book shows many just like to possess them. In some ways it's a catalog of well-known, important book collectors. They're written about here in such respectful tones that I'm reminded of the quiet, reverential tones Stevens in The Remains of the Day remembers distinguished butlers who were his predecessors or contemporaries. Some of these guys are outrageous in their insatiable need to possess books. Some are wealthy and are investing. Some are simply thieves and can't help themselves. What they have in common, with each other and with us, is a love of books.

[Espen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the book to pick up if you feel guilty about having too many books: Basbanes tells of book collectors and their passion, describing the need to have many books and to keep them (and, occasionally, read them) as a psychological condition its sufferers have no need or desire to be cured of.

More at my blog.

[Faith-Anne · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a favorite of mine. Basbanes has a wonderful and inviting way of describing the 'bibliophile' condition. All hardcore readers should read Basbanes' work. You'll learn so much!

[Maria Elmvang · Rating 1 out of 5]

I reserve the right not to finish any book that fails to grab my attention. After 74 pages I was still fighting my way through every one. Life's too short for books like that.

[Quirkyreader · Rating 5 out of 5]

See my review on my book blog: http://quirkyreader.livejournal.com/1...

[Jennifer · Rating 2 out of 5]

I only read about 65 pages of this book (about 10% of the total). I wasn't really enjoying it so I gave up on it. I have liked reading books about books but now I realize that I don't care about book collecting. Book collectors seem to be a special breed of people who are obsessed with collecting books but don't actually care about the content (and reading) the books they collect. I do not understand this idea. I love reading books but don't really care about collecting anything, whether it is or will be valuable in the future. This subject might be appealing to some but not me.

[Katherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

This could be called All You Never Knew You Wanted to Know About Book-Collecting. It's a truly extensive/exhaustive tome of facts and details about book collecting and selling (occasionally stealing), both historic and contemporary. There were a few moments I was tempted to call it good and return the book to the library unfinished, but I didn't because frankly all of it—or at least most of it—was utterly fascinating.

[Leah · Rating 3 out of 5]

A charming series of vignettes and profiles of famous book collectors and bibliophiles throughout history. It's definitely a bit inside baseball and gets repetitive after awhile, especially the modern collectors and auctions. The narrative of Stephen Blumberg, which bookends the entire text, is fascinating as well.

[SibylM · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars.

[Deborah · Rating 4 out of 5]

I thought this was enjoyable to skim through and read various sketches- a bit lengthy and repetitive for me to read every page

[Adrian Stumpp · Rating 5 out of 5]

While writing his memoirs, the grandson of the seventeenth century bibliomaniac Isaiah Thomas euphemized that his grandfather suffered from “the gentlest of infirmities.” Taking this quotation as inspiration for the title is somewhat of a misnomer, however, as Basbane’s book only partly concerns itself with bibliomania. Primarily, it is a fascinating survey of the history of book collecting. Basbane stylistically blends the erudition, research and paranoid self-qualification of historical scholarship with the narrative flare and anecdotal interest of investigative journalism to great effect. This is what Jonathan Harr’s Carravaggio book could have been if he’d actually tried. The survey begins with the great library of Alexandria and touches on such celebrity book collectors as Julius Caesar, Euripides, King George III, Benjamin Franklin, J. Pierpont Morgan, and John Laroquette (aka Dan Fielding, for those who don’t remember Night Court), escorting the reader through twenty-odd centuries of book lust, to 1995.

Basbane’s thesis is that throughout the ages, private book collectors, not institutions, have been primarily responsible for protecting the great wealth of knowledge and literature from the tyranny of despots and the ravages of time. The epic poem Beowulf, I’m sure you know, is considered the earliest known example of the English language, but had it not been for the efforts of Sir Thomas Phillips, none of us ever would have heard of the Geat hero. Everything we have of the poem comes from a single copy rescued by Phillips from a rubbish heap in the seventeenth century. Today it is the centerpiece of the British Library’s collection. A late nineteenth century Frenchman holed himself away in a slum garret compulsively collecting books at great cost to his personal health. When a neighbor took pity on him and gave him some money for food, he happened to pass a bookstore on his way to the grocers. He was found the next day in his garret, among hundreds of thousands of books, dead of starvation. Other characters of interest include the homicidal monk Don Vincente, the thief Stephen Blumberg, Harry Ransom of the University of Texas-Austin’s Humanities Research Center, and the enigmatic ex-CIA new-age spiritualist Haven O’More, among others.

One of Basbane’s primary concerns is discerning what it is that compels collectors to spend vast sums on rare books. The most ever paid for a single volume was $30.8 million for a notebook containing drawings and notes by Leonardo DaVinci, such as blueprints for a flying machine, a submarine, a steam engine, and, believe it or not, a computer. Bill Gates was the buyer. Basbane’s subject really seems to be the “eternal passion for books,” as he investigates bibliomaniacs, bibliophiles, and bibliokleptomaniacs. His scope is comprehensive, his research is thorough, and his talent is formidable. He is a good writer who asks all the right questions, which makes this an absorbing, obsessive read.

The thing I found especially fascinating was that important texts by Copernicus, Vasilius, and Chaucer, as well as the first four folios of Shakespeare, the first ever Gutenburg Bible to come off the press, and the only known first edition copies of Paradise Lost and L’Morte d’Arthur are not kept in libraries or other institutions of learning, but are owned privately, bought at auction, and by Americans, not Europeans. They were acquired for not nearly as much money as you would think, and this is but a sampling of the treasures. A very good, occasionally exhausting, read.

[Shiela · Rating 5 out of 5]

Highly recommended. Very well researched, well presented, full of information and very entertaining as well. Would make a good reference book, also.