The Man Who Loved Books Too Much: The True Story of a Thief, a Detective, and a World of Literary Obsession [Englisch] [Gebundene Ausgabe]

Those of us whose lives revolve around the books that we read can be accused of suffering form bibliophilia. Taken to the extreme, the obsessive love of books and everything book-related can become a bibliomania. True bibliomaniacs appreciate books not only for their textual and intellectual content. For them, the physical embodiment of the book is of an equal, if not higher, importance. Most people can appreciate the high artisan value of a fine, hardbound, artfully printed and decorated book. But for bibliomaniacs the admiration for a book in its physical embodiment has an almost religious, sacramental, quality. This is especially the case for those who are involved in the high-art of rare book collecting. In 'The Man Who Loved Books Too Much,' Allison Bartlett explores the life and book obsession, often with criminal consequences, of John Gilkey, a notorious rare-book thief.

Bartlett is a skilled narrator with a keen journalistic eye for detail and an aptitude for getting the voice of many of her protagonists come clearly in her writing. This book has opened my eyes to the whole world of rare and antique book trading and collecting. It is full of valuable information that is not easy to find, especially not through public statements and advertising outlets. After reading it, I have a new appreciation for the whole art of book publishing and printing, and have gained insights into the criteria that are used for evaluating various editions of book. I may never come across a valuable find on a garage sale or in a Goodwill store, but if I ever do I'll know what to look for.

'The Man Who Loved Books Too Much' is also an interesting journey into the peculiarity of the rare books and artifacts crime scene. From the years of watching crime dramas and documentaries, I had thought that I have a decent grasp of the criminal justice system works, but after reading this book I realized that the real world is much more complicated and muddled than any TV show, no matter how 'realistic', will ever be able to elicit.

My single biggest issue with this book concerns the portrayal of John Gilkey. I fear that Bartlett has seriously misread or misrepresented the nature of Gilkey's flawed personality. Far from being a tragic bibliomaniacal hero with a major character defect, Gilkey comes across as someone who suffers from a very simply explainable psychological disorder. All the characteristics that Gilkey exhibits ' narcissism, sense of grievance, chronic inability to distinguish the right from wrong, failure to form realistic long term goals ' are very typical of someone with a psychopathic personality disorder. At no point did I get an impression that there is any serious intellectual depth to Gilkey's pursuit of rare and masterful books. He seems to be able to drop all the big words and smooth-talk his interlocutors into believing that there is substance behind what he is saying, but when you read his words you can't but feel that they are just a shell. This kind of charm and superficial confidence is another one of the psychopathic traits, and it seems that Bartlett has been taken by him. Gilkey is not obsessed with books as such, but rather with the intellectual and social prestige that possessing rare books bestows. Calling him 'the man who loved books too much' is like calling Hannibal Lecter 'the man who loved food too much.'

Overall, this is a very interesting story, but not quite what I had expected. I would recommend it to all book lovers out there, as well as to people who enjoy real life criminal drama.

You don't have to be a bibliophile to enjoy this book because it offers suspense, two of the most eccentric characters you're apt to find, humor, and an insider's look at a little known business.

In all probability when we think of major crime, heists, robberies, we think of banks being held up, proceless art works stolen or rare jewel collections purloined. As author Bartlett discovered there quite an illegal traffic in rare books, very pricey ones, say the first trade edition of The Tales of Peter Rabbit valued at $15,000 or a first edition of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone going for $30,000.

As Bartlett began to look and learn about the world of books she became fascinated by two people. The first, John Charles Gilkey, is a very clever fellow who has stolen rare books across America. What is intriguing about Gilkey is not his wiliness as a thief but the fact that he stole not to make money but to have the books in his collection. One can easily say it was an obsession.

The second interesting man in Bartlett's sights was rare book dealer Ken Sanders who worked as the volunteer security chair of the Antiquarian Booksellers' Association of America. Before long he found himself concentrating less on his business and more on finding Gilkey and bringing him to justice. The story of their cat-and-mouse game rivals going on a fast track with James Bond.

Evidently, we have little to fear from digital books as long as there are rabid collectors of what is in reality an ordinary object. It's been going on since Euripides (400 B.C.) who was an object of ridicule because of his desire for books. Some time later Cicero is quoted as saying he was "saving up all my little income" to be put toward his collection.

Bartlett has crafted an absorbing true story that takes many of us into a world of we never knew existed.

Enjoy!

- Gail Cooke