Sam McGrath Holmquist

February 19, 2020

 

Special Collections Pet Book Store

“A PET!?” “But sir, this is no place for pets.”

“No no no, a book, you see. With a spine and a soul and pages. Let me care for one of those.”

“A book with a soul, with a spine?? I’ll see what I can find you.”

Well. It wasn’t quite like that.

But I have adopted a book. I think it’s time you meet him…

I found him online, first. Imagine an advanced search, my fingers flying, my laptop tossed in the air, gymnastic typing, and a spreadsheet’s with of restrictions on my search. No results. Hmm. Possibly the wrong website. I tried again, and I saw it. All the key words. It was Irish, Celtic — words like Romance and Poetry, a book about myth and legend.

It piqued my interest, obviously, and I shot a request right away that the book be reserved for…

Further Inspection:

I wasn’t sure what to expect. The book I’d found was a first edition, published in 1910, London, by the Gresham Publishing Company. It was reprinted even 70 years later. What kind of book do people reprint seventy years later! A book with illustrations in colour and in monochrome, that’s what kind of book!

The illustrations are by a variety of artists, who we will tackle later, lovingly. They include what appear to be photographs, at least once.

The book is 450 pages long, with 22 unnumbered leaves of plates, which include the illustrations, but that’s not what you’d notice! I came early to special collections, and a librarian ushered me in like I was come to see my dear friend’s newborn babe.

It was wrapped like a baby, too, carefully, with green cloth, lying on a soft white towel so it wound’t bend the wrong way and break its fragile spine. But unlike a babe, it was painted. Black, and smooth gold, the kind of gold that traps light inside of it, unreflective gold. A lot of green, too, a real deep green that doesn’t offend the black paint at all, and one that bursts from the bottom of the page in the shape of vines. All the vines intermingle in a way that would be really hard for me to draw, very Celtic, like a Celtic knot, or like actual vines, or ivy. The vines hold up a square instrument, with strings. I don’t know its name, but it is symmetrical, and two heads flank it. Both in a style reminiscent of Greek depictions of medusa, one is a woman, and one is a man. Fierce, both of them are. Bellow them, three ships sail on a black sea, under pristine golden sky. I guess I just fell in love.

Now that he’s adopted, it’s time for a physical examination.

Physical Examination:

Substance: The book has a cloth cover, green, with black and gold paint. Inside, the pages are paper, and slightly faded.

The text is in English, but includes many names I cannot pronounce.

The illustrations are remarkably well preserved, and mostly exist separate from the text. The images are printed on a more plastic-like material, with a glossy coating.

The book contains only one marking, to my knowledge: a note that this book is a first edition.

The books is remarkably sturdy and contains a preface, a table of contents, an appendix an index, and, much to my relief, a table of pronunciation for the more difficult words.

The book is heavy, even for its size, which measures 22 cm in length.

The heft of the book, the wide margins, and the large, comfortably spaced text make me think this book was designed to be studied, for notes to be made. The occasional footnote makes the book feel academic, but the cover and the spacing of the text make it feel like a collectors item, rather than a scholar’s tome. Someone who already loves Irish literature might connect strongly with the book. It seems to revere the Celtic culture. Made by enthusiasts for enthusiasts. That sort of thing.

After my first visit with this book, the librarian, who so excitedly ushered me in, took me to a side room in special collections. Beautiful book cases and large tables for reading. Whoever collected this book, that was his collection. A whole room full of book. An ardent collector of books by Irish authors. That explains why some of the pages in my pet are uncut, still stuck together. A collector would enjoy having that sort of thing, I was told.

Who was this man? Healy, is his surname. I believe some research may be in order.