book review

Since 1956, diecast vehicles have been sold to children and collectors under the name Corgi.  Here in the United States, the scope of Corgi toys might not have shown up on the radar for a lot of kids — I was a Matchbox kid, myself — so I was impressed when I got a review copy of Corgi Toys, by David Cooke.   Corgi produced larger-scale vehicles than Matchbox, although they did include the smaller-scale size later, and the quality and style changed as the needs and desires of their customers grew over the years.

Cooke starts before the creation of the Corgi trade-name, tracing its origins to the Mettoy company in the 1930s.  After war-rationing of metal hampered the creation of metal car toys, the market grew and saw numerous competing companies fighting to make their toys more desirable to kids and collectors alike.   Cooke’s book covers a lot of ground in few words, giving a good timeline and overview of Corgi’s growth and change in the past eighty years, but is far from comprehensive.  The book is neither a reference nor a price guide, and feels more like a nice gift book for your friendly neighborhood toy car collector.  The limited text is made up for with a couple hundred photographs of various toys, most with their original packaging and accessories.   The photos are all well done, and nothing would be considered a poor quality collectible.  It also benefits from a handy index and two pages of “Further Reading” suggestions.

The photos are the book’s strongest points, and it’s too bad the book isn’t longer.  The Shire Library has produced a number of books appealing to collectors and kitsch fanatics alike.  All are thin and image-packed, and the Corgi Toys book is no exception.  The content’s quality and feel is similar to books from Taschen, but on a smaller scale.  The only place the book’s size has a slightly negative connotation is in the price – while I understand that 64  full-color glossy pages isn’t a cheap book to produce, the $12.95 pricetag seems a bit high for a thin paperback book.  That might encourage a gift-buyer to pick up a thicker, but lower quality, coffee-table photo book of toy cars simply because it carries a greater heft.   The tight focus on Corgi’s history, however, is the right fit for a book of this size, nicely balanced by a multitude of good images, so don’t be put off by the price; a Corgi collector will definitely enjoy Cooke’s summary of the Corgi toy car company’s history.

Corgi Toys, by David Cooke
ISBN 978-0-7478-0667-7
$12.95, 64 pages
Shire Library (Random House)

Magnificent Obsessions

Magnificent Obsessions: Twenty Remarkable Collectors in Pursuit of Their Dreams by Mitch Tuchman (photographs by Peter Brenner) was published in 1994, however that doesn’t diminish the book in the least because this isn’t a price guide or even a true collectors guide; this book is a celebration of collecting.

Each of the 20 collectors covered in this over-size softcover is given a few pages for some Q & A about — and beautiful photos of — their one obsession. While many of the collectors admit to collecting more than the one “thing,” they are limited primarily (otherwise how would I know they collect more things?) to just the one collecting category. However, what they say isn’t only of interest to those with similar collecting obsessions; the joy, pride, humor, collection rearranging, haggling, discovery, etc. are universal.

But that doesn’t mean you won’t learn anything. Well, maybe I can’t promise that; I don’t know the depth and breadth of the knowledge you retain in your noggin. But I learned a few things. Or at least was reminded of things.

Like the pre-internet days of collecting.

Not only because what this book is, really, is a paper bound version of excellent blog posts with gorgeous photographs, but because it’s a time capsule of collecting before the days of search engines, online shopping carts, e-newsletters, and digital communities of pixel sharing comrades. Each of these 20 collectors was, at the time at least, a pretty big-time known collector in their category. (I Googled a handful of them; some have since passed away, others only exist in their daytime gigs, others I found no online mentions other than this book. But like I said, I didn’t Google everyone.) And every single one of them became a Big Time Collector without the internet.

(Sure, we all know about the joys of hunting at flea markets, many of us belong to real world collecting clubs, and most of us know that not everyone is “on” the internet; but still, are we making the most of forays into real places, meeting real people, as much as we are saved searches and bookmarked pages? Just something to think about.)

The book also holds another pre-internet reminder… In these days of complaining that eBay and other online selling avenues have “ruined” both the prices and spirit of the antiques and collectibles marketplace, don’t you remember that collectors have always complained about, feared, or been annoyed by other (real or perceived) influences in the world of collecting? This reality bonked me in the nose when I read swizzle stick collector Norma Hazelton’s lament:

Kovel wants to put a book out on swizzle sticks. Of course, that’ll kill the business. It’ll make the prices sky high like antiques and everything else went.

I haven’t studied the swizzle stick collecting market and I’m too lazy to even check to see if Kovel’s put out that book; but I bet that swizzle stick collecting has been affected by a great number of things outside of the collector’s control — and that’s rather the point, isn’t it? We can’t control the collectibles market any more than we can anything else we care about.

What else did I learn or remember? Along with some very specific things about very specific categories of collectibles, these general points stuck out:

• The differences between collectors and accumulators may be sound, even agreed upon; but here there were Big Time Collectors, known in their category, who identified themselves as accumulators. (Score one for my fellow accumulators!)
• I was reminded yet again *heavy sigh* that ephemera and books are of seemingly little value; there’s not a single collection dedicated to either. (Boo-hiss!)
• For nearly every bit of good general collecting advice, there was someone to corroborate otherwise; the anecdotal evidence continues to support the fact that each collection is as unique as the collector/curator’s individual philosophy, process, and, yes, I’ll say it, dreams.

Magnificent Obsessions: Twenty Remarkable Collectors in Pursuit of Their Dreams is available for very cheap at Amazon — and that’s something that any collector, in any category or however self-identified, can be happy about. (Makes a great gift for the collector in your life too — hint-hint nugde-nudge.)

After I interviewed Hillary DePiano about her My Little Pony collection, I interviewed her about another one of her collections: She-Ra, Princess of Power. Since Hillary is the author of The She-Ra Collector’s Inventory: An Unofficial Illustrated Guide to All Princess of Power Toys and Accessories, she sent me a copy of the second edition of the collector guide for review.

The She-Ra Collector's Inventory, by Hillary DePiano

As I stated in my interview with DePiano, I’m admittedly not at all familiar with She-Ra, He-Man, or the Masters of the Universe (MOTU) (although, I must admit my interest is growing rapidly!). However, I don’t think my inexperience makes much of a difference reviewing this collectors’ guide because most people use such guides for two reasons: One, to identify specific items properly and two, to get a ballpark idea of monetary value. And in both those cases, a guide book ought to help a collector (or seller) who is unfamiliar find their way about; and The She-Ra Collector’s Inventory does just that.

After a brief overview of the MOTU world and the Mattel line of toys, DePiano gives an account of her pricing process and grading evaluation, including a very wise word on pricing which all collectors, regardless of category, should heed:

Though some sites, or your local collectibles store, may try to insist on a higher value, I have found in my many years as an eBay seller that the only true value of an item is what someone is willing to pay for it, which is why I have based the prices in this guide on the average completed sales over several years rather than higher priced unsold listings. (The same is true in reverse, however, for if two bidders get in a war over your item, it may go for far more.)

After gaining understanding of her pricing and grading, the author gets into the individual Princess of Power toys and accessories.

Arrow: Princess Of Power Horse (page 17 in The She-Ra Collector's Inventory)

Dolls Action figures, including winged horses and other figures, are listed by year, each with color photo, description, checklist of clothing &/or accessories included, variations (if any), along with a price guide, listing values for those “Mint in Package” (MIP), “Complete,” and “Loose” toys.

The Fantastic Fashions section gives a general overview, with a centerfold-style color section showing you the fashions in their packaging. The Accessories and Playsets chapter is much like the chapter on the action figures.

In the Appendix, you’ll find Princess of Power prototypes never released in stores, international variations and packaging, detailed descriptions of wing types & combs, items commonly mistaken for She-Ra (including Golden Girl: Leader of the Gemstone Guardian), other She-Ra items (books, magazines, mini-comics, lunchbox & thermos sets, Shrinky Dinks, etc.), comments on custom dolls made by She-Ra collectors, and a checklist of MOTU Evil Horde figures who featured on the Princess of Power series (with photographs). While the Appendix has less pricing information, there are plenty of color photographs and information to assist the collector in identification and, therefore, in performing their own pricing research.

The She-Ra Collector’s Inventory: An Unofficial Illustrated Guide to All Princess of Power Toys and Accessories is a slim 55 pages in a trade-sized (6.6 x 10.3 inches) paperback, but it’s easy to understand and packed with color photos plenty large enough to be useful in identification. All of this makes it easy for a collector (or someone who discovers a box of the retro 80’s toys in their basement) to identify what they have, discover what they are missing, and learn how much it may be worth — which is exactly what a primary collector guide book ought to do.

Photographer Jay Grant used his darkroom skills just for fun, producing some believable fake daguerreotypes – but when one shows up at a Paris auction, threatening to connect him as a forger and a fraud, Grant dives in to recover the remaining fakes and keep his hands clean.  Unfortunately, he didn’t know how deep the water was: as the son of a spy, memories from his childhood and another set of daguerrotypes – believed to contain important secret messages encoded in a way only Jay can decipher – make him a target for the CIA, French intelligence, and possibly other spies and spooks with uncertain allegiances.   David Downie’s new novel Paris City of Night is Jay’s story, stringing together terrorism, auction house fraud, murder, photography, and Nazis into a captivating mystery.

It isn’t completely clear who Jay is up against at any point; even the most trusted friends might not be as trustworthy as they seem – and that constant suspicion drives the story’s suspense.  Jay Grant does his best to stay one step ahead of everyone, but throughout the novel those outside forces remain one step ahead of him, guiding his activities and trying to force Jay’s hand.  The books most novel feature is that Jay’s part in the mystery doesn’t come from his duty to work or country, but because he’s simply trying to cover his ass, and that makes it very easy to sympathize with the guy.  Jay hasn’t made the best decisions, which got him into trouble for the daguerreotypes in the first place, but the death of a family friend, the mystery surrounding his father’s death, and the shadowy people following Jay’s tracks all push Jay to step up and resolve the situation, sometimes against his better judgment.  The complexity does result in some small flaws, because the end of the book still seems to leave numerous threads loose, but it may have been intentional for a sequel and the loose threads aren’t integral to the story.  From Jay’s point of view, the book’s ending does resolve everything, leaving him happier than he was at the beginning.  The story is riddled with the escapist fiction that appeals to a middle-aged set of men, which the author is unapologetic about.  Like the author himself, Jay Grant is an American living in France, loves photography, and has an unusual vision flaw that is remarkably similar to one afflicting the author, but – as you’d expect – when he was put on paper Jay Grant “rides a BMW motorcycle, wears fancy suits, and appears to be upwardly mobile,” embodying what appears to be a healthy, creative way for an author to express some elements of a midlife crisis.  Paris City of Night is well aware of its status as a pulpy suspense novel, but it spares no effort in doing it with as much skill and fun as possible.

Initially, I thought the backstory of forged and modern daguerreotypes to be a rather fanciful, if effective, plot point, but I was surprised to find that there are a number of artisans producing daguerreotypes still today.  These modern aficionados use the same techniques used nearly two hundred years ago for their own artistic endeavors, as Jay did – but, like Jay’s dilemma, faked “antique” photos, including daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, and tintypes, are troublesome to collectors and museums.  The familiarity with the daguerreotype made me curious if the author had been involved in the modern production of these types of photographs.   Downie replied, no, he hasn’t made any himself, but said “I have always loved them — my mother owned quite a few, showing her relatives in Italy in the 1800s — but I do not collect them myself,” and added that with his wife, professional photographer Alison Harris, he has had the opportunity to see some fine examples of early photographs in museum collections near his home in France.  The history of photography itself played into the creation of Paris City of Night, as Downie was inspired by the untimely death of photography pioneer Niepce and Daguerre’s subsequent invention of the daguerreotype as his initial novel idea.   Daguerre’s later relationship with Samuel Morse, who first used daguerreotype technology in the United States,  plays a deeper part in the story with some fictionalization mirroring Jay Grant’s mysterious encoded daguerreotypes.  Downie’s attention to detail and the smooth inclusion of the factual and the fanciful help give the book the believable weight which makes it a much stronger book than you might expect from its nondescript cover.  It might not ever end up as a movie nor winning a Man Booker, but as a weekend read it is well worth the time and money, whether you appreciate early photography or not.

“Collecting is for most collectors,” writes curator Stephen Calloway, “just a reasonably absorbing and largely harmless pastime, looked upon by an uncomprehending world as a kind of gentle madness.“  This is how the gentle hobby of collecting butterflies is seen to the non-collector, or so thought author Peter Laufer before he started writing The Dangerous World of Butterflies. Laufer had spent years gaining expertise and accolades for his political work, but at a CSPAN-televised book signing he joked that he was done writing about terrorism and war: his next book would be about flowers and butterflies.   At a smaller, more intimate event, the humorous comment probably would have been forgotten, but today’s interconnected world means his comment made it to the ends of the Earth.   One end it reached was a butterfly reserve in Nicaragua, who offered to show Laufer what butterflies were all about.

Thanks to that offer, the politically-minded journalist opened his eyes to a world that was anything but the relaxing and gentle world of butterflies and flowers.    Certainly, the butterflies themselves are gentle by their own nature — they don’t carry disease harmful to humans, they don’t bite, they don’t infest our homes — but the world they inhabit, incomprehensible to the butterflies themselves, is a dangerous one in which to be a butterfly.    The things humans desire has created a world hostile to butterflies, although some are working to change it.

Butterfly collectors are a large focus of the book, and much of this is because there is a direct visceral connection to their hobby and the death of a butterfly: in order to keep a butterfly in a collection, it must be killed first.  This is only a very small part of the problem, though — because the bigger issue is where the butterflies come from.   Butterfly habitats are being over-logged or over-developed.  Poisons to control mosquitoes and disease also decimate butterfly populations.   The rarer the butterfly, the more endangered, the more expensive its dried body becomes to collectors, and poachers become a greater threat to the butterfly population.   Yes, butterfly poachers.  Although some were definitely poachers in everybody’s common idea of the criminal, flaunting laws for their own financial gain, others are a bit fuzzier, like entomologists collecting extra specimens or being too far over the line into a wildlife preserve.  Those entomologists and their universities are, in fact, owners of some of the largest collections of dead butterflies in the world, storekeepers of butterfly mausoleums, but the work of entomologists is the help an environmentalist needs to give an endangered butterfly its best chance to avoid extinction.  An alternative to poachers are the butterfly breeders, who, to ensure the perfect condition of their commodity, capture and kill the butterflies as soon as they emerge from their chrysalis, before they can fly too much and risk damaging their stained-glass wings.  This quick kill is a bit too much for the subset of the butterfly collector who has taken their cues from the birdwatchers and is satisfied to document, rather than kill, a butterfly.  Each player, from the farmer to the collector to the poacher to the environmentalist, has their own wants and needs in mind, and the butterfly has a place in it all.

Laufer points out that the butterfly has a minimal impact on nature: it has a minor role in pollinating; most are poisonous to an extent and are not a huge food source to other animals; caterpillars eat plants, but generally not enough to even kill the plant.    Humans, however, have found a value in the butterfly that supercedes the functions of nature — we desire the butterfly for its beauty.   The butterfly has ingrained itself into our culture, whether you’ve had “butterflies in your stomach” or hear mention of “the butterfly effect”, it appears in our art and our fashion, so it may seem that butterflies have done good job of making themselves an integral part of our world, regardless if we keep specimens pinned within shadowboxes for display, walk among thousands of captive-bred blutterflies in a zoo exhibit, or release them into the sky as a wedding finale.  The book does venture a bit into politicizing, commenting at length on the environmental impact of the Mexico border fence on butterfly habitats, and poking fun at the creationist leanings of a butterfly exhibitor, but you can’t fault Laufer for writing about what he knows.   Those sections do not break the book, though, because the major points are made in digging down that one layer, seeing underneath the beautiful veneer of a butterfly’s place in our world, and taking stock in just how humans take control of the butterfly’s world and manipulate it for our own wants and desires.   The dangerous world of a butterfly is, in fact, the world of humans.

The Dangerous World of Butterflies: The Startling Subculture of Criminals, Collectors, and Conservationists
by Peter Laufer, PhD
ISBN: 978-1-59921-555-6
Hardcover, 270pgs, $24.95