It’s very rare to find the idea of ‘collecting’ portrayed in a positive light, unless one is discussing the ‘collections’ of a large institution focused on the preservation of recognized artifacts - places like libraries or museums. Us individual, lesser collectors, if movies and TV are to be trusted, are ill-proportioned, socially inept, and avaricious creatures with little regard for their own health or relationships - as long as we can keep and maintain a pile of precious junk. I can list a half dozen examples without breaking a sweat, and maybe two dozen if I get really sweaty. We often forget that some of the museums’ greatest treasures come from careful, solitary collectors, who often freely donate their priceless ‘junk’ to museums.

So, when I came across ‘In Search of the Saveopotomas’ by Stephen Cosgrove (and illustrated by Robin James), I was a little surprised that an unhealthy ‘collector’ stereotype was being communicated to children as well. The book was offering them a cautionary tale against… well, I’m not sure what.

See, the Hoardasaurus collects things, but he’s generally a wreck because all he cares about is keeping his stuff safe from imagined thieves. Owning things, and placing too much importance on them, is ruining his life - not to mention his Scarface-worthy paranoia levels. Eventually, he’s convinced to give everything away and keep only what is essential to his survival, and to put even those leftover items into a bank (run by the Saveopotomas). Of course, all of his problems are solved when he gives up his collecting hobby, he can finally play with the other dinosaurs, and everything’s all unicorns and rainbows and candy-splosions. The end.

I think that one thing that needs to be distinguished and explained is the difference between ‘collecting’ and ‘hoarding’, as even occasional comments left here on Collectors’ Quest by readers have attacked the idea of ‘collecting’ without really understanding the idea behind it.

I’m sure that many of us have known people who have hoarded things, and who have soured our experiences with ‘collecting’, but we’re generally discussing people who have amassed such a quantity of ostensibly useless items out of fear of someday being caught ‘without’. You know, ‘without’ that newspaper article from 1945 that might be relevant today, or ‘without’ the perfect shade of shoes to wear with a certain pair of pants that they don’t even own yet. It’s my belief that a ‘hoarder’ collects out of fear - not out of a desire for quantity or quality, not within a theme, and to the detriment of their own health. This is the story of the Hoardasaurus - the person who doesn’t realize that almost everything in this world can either be replaced, or is just as precious in memory as it is in its physical form. It’s a genuine phobia, and there’s a difference.

I can safely say that I’m not a hoarder, because I have a job, and I can have conversations that don’t involve Batman, and I can pay my bills, and I’m not afraid. While I don’t think that ‘In Search of the Saveopotomas’ had much space for the subtle distinction between shades of mental health, the generalization that people (or dinosaurs) that spend any time collecting things are shifty, imbalanced characters is an unwelcomed one.

Sure, I completely appreciate the idea of giving as its own reward, and I very much respect a lifestyle that requires nothing but essential items - but it’s okay to have stuff, dammit. We work hard, and if I want a row of 30 Green Lanterns overlooking my drawing table because it inspires me, I’m going to make it so. If having a display of unused china perched atop my kitchen cabinets makes me feel warm, and makes my guests smile, that’s the way it’s gonna be.

I do not ‘collect’ out of fear. I think that many of us do it so that we can share our enthusiasm for the artistry and history of what we collect, and because some perfectly normal personality types take real solace in having a few tactile things to retreat to. When that occasional tactile retreat becomes a burden, that’s when you’ve become the Hoardasaurus. Your hair turns purple, a bird starts living on your head, and none of the other dinosaurs want to play with you.

And of course, keeping your very valuable items in a bank should go without saying. I don’t think that a child needs to learn that keeping money in a mattress or a hollowed-out Taun-Taun is a bad idea. So, while I still don’t grasp the moral issue that the book has with having stuff, I can agree that an overimportance on owning things isn’t healthy. Still, I’ve found great comfort in the occasional talisman - a book to carry (though not this one), or a well-made toy. It goes without saying that I’m not going to heft a library around on my back because I think someone’s going to steal it.

Take that, Saveopotomas. We conclude with the following ominous statement :

“So if you take up hoarding
And are thinking only of you,
Remember the Hoardasaurus
… And the Saveopotomas too.”

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Article Tags: children's books, collecting, cosgrove, dinosaur, hoarding, serendipity books, weekly reader

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