Category Archives: Bibliophilia

So, just over a week ago, I bought a copy volume 1, part 1 of the Cambridge Ancient History, mostly for the explanation of the chronology used in all the volumes. I got it used, in near fine condition, for $90, which is quite a deal considering that a new copy is around $150-170 (£110 on the Cambridge University Press site). (Did you know that the CAH volumes used to be printed with gilt top edges? Very nice!) Anyhow, flipping through the book, I found the original invoice, addressed to the former owner, from Blackwell’s. As they said in those days, “Far out!”

The order was placed 16 May 1969, and sent 8 February 1971. The price? £6,8/- (that’s Ancient English for “six pounds, eight shillings”) with the converted amount of $15.36. I nearly choked, I was so shocked. I still am! Gah! In the mere 35 years since that invoice, these volumes, made more cheaply still (there ain’t no gold on new volumes from Cambridge University Press!), are more than ten times more expensive. It’s absolutely outrageous. What, ho, in another thirty-five? The $1,500 third edition volume 1 part 1, comprising only 14 pages, and that of mostly publishing credits, because it’ll be written by a minimalist who rejects chronology as “too reliant upon the Text as Authority”? I can hardly wait….

For a shot of pure joy, I think there’s nothing better than Calvin and Hobbes. This is a beautifully printed large format set, each of the three volumes being 10.75 x 12 x 1.5 inches, the whole weighing about twenty pounds! It’s worth every ounce. Some customers, as I, have had some problems with the slipcase, but the books themselves are well-constructed. The slipcase has a rather shoddily attached pastedown, which tore loose (!) when I first tipped the books out.

Aside from a somewhat short but quite informative introduction by the reclusive artist, Bill Watterson, the book is otherwise unencumbered by text, which is completely appropriate in the case of Calvin and Hobbes. In addition to all the black and white daily strips and the Sunday color strips, there are also included the special larger format watercolored pieces done for the various book collections Watterson put together throughout the years.

Being of a supremely nostalgic and quite affective nature, I alternately giggle, tear up, or sigh wistfully with nearly every page. There is no other regular comic strip that has ever pleased me in so many ways as this one, with only Charles Schultz coming in a fairly distant second with Peanuts. Unlike so many (most? all?) modern comics, Calvin and Hobbes is not just a collection of visual or verbal gags, or oddities and cruelties, or dated political or social crassitudities, but rather has its roots in a powerful combination of love and imagination, two particularly human gifts from the Divine.

In short, I highly recommend it.

(Clicking on the picture above takes you to the publisher’s site. A little bird told me the collection may be purchased at a nearly 50% savings at Costco.)