This is a classic memoir by a rare book dealer, much of which consists of the anecdote standard in this kind of work: Surprising discovery of a rare and valuable book, perhaps in the basement of a tiny bookstore; difficulty in actually purchasing the book, given the crazy bookseller, government interference, etc.; incredible amount of money paid or made in selling the book. These anecdotes are entertaining, but after a dozen of them, the thrill does begin to wear off. Furthermore, the author’s specialty is not actually books (as the title suggests) but manuscripts. He describes his purchases in loving detail, and it is clear that he really gets excited over a good German psalter or Swiss book of hours. Color illustrations would have helped to communicate more of the books’ beauty to the readers.
Unique among such memoirs is the author’s young life. He grew up in Vienna and started as a book salesperson before he started his own business. He watched the Anschluss and hoped for the best. In fact, he was denounced by one of his employees and was sent to not one but two concentration camps. Somehow his family managed to pull strings to get him an exit visa so that he could leave the country. This is an incredible story, but important parts don’t seem fully explained. To begin with, it isn’t clear until rather late that Kraus was Jewish. That removes quite a bit of the drama until one reads that he’s been arrested. The author should have explained that although Jews were rounded up and treated horribly (and died in droves), the actual Final Solution had apparently not been implemented at the time of his imprisonment, so it was still possible to leave the country. Also, I found it somewhat amazing that he was trying to avoid (legally) the US draft a few years after he moved to the US. Why wouldn’t he jump at the chance to fight against the regime that almost killed him, stole his business and wealth, forced his mother to become a refugee, was slaughtering his fellow Jews, etc.? It is all a bit puzzling.
Another aspect of the author’s life that is not fully explained is how he was able to transition from a mere salesperson to owner of a business that quickly became successful and had many employees. Buying rare books is a very capital-intensive business. He started in the business and became extremely successful *twice*. It seems that his in-laws helped in the US, but even so it is a bit mysterious how he was able to start with nothing and a few years later to be paying hundreds of thousands of dollars for a collection or even a single item. I wonder if he did not want everyone to know parts of his story.
The author’s enthusiasm is unforced. He admits when he lost money on books or was still holding onto them in hopes of a buyer coming forward. Not every deal, even for wonderful books, makes money. It is also interesting that he apparently read bibliographies and catalogs for relaxation at night. This enabled him to identify or at least suspect the identity of manuscripts that others did not. His enthusiasm leads him to burble with excitement about each of his finds, and readers may find that this becomes a bit tiresome. Each book might truly be amazing, but reading how amazing book after book is does become repetitive. Another favorite line of his is that “such a collection will never be for sale again” or “this group of books could not be put together today.” These things are true, I believe, and it is an interesting fact about the collection world. Nonetheless, after about the third time, one becomes less impressed.
Overall, this is a book that will appeal to those interested in the book trade or in manuscripts themselves. Are there such readers any more? I began to wonder as I read this if I would be the last person ever to actually read this book through. Who reads books any more, much less books about (now deceased) booksellers... booksellers who specialized in manuscripts?