You know what they say about Live by the Sword, and all that… well, here I am at this moment – sword in hand. Strange what ends up in the shop, isn’t it?
Even stranger, the long-blade in the picture isn’t the only one. The sword I’m holding up is a US Civil War Confederate army cavalry sword made by Boyle & Gamble, a Richmond, Virginia arms-maker. The one I’m not holding up (mostly because I’m nervous about cutting my fingers off trying to remove it from the scabbard) was made by a company called Klingenthal that began making blades for King Louis XV of France in the early 1700s.
I’m thinking about having a sword-fight with myself, just because I could do that if I really wanted to. I’m deciding against it, right now, since I would probably lose.
Perhaps it isn’t true for other book dealers, but I’ve always found old relics interesting, even if they aren’t books. When I was much younger, someone brought in a box of items dating to Indian Territory days, and said they brought the things to me because they’d heard that I “like old stuff.” Old Stuff?
Bring it on!
In that box was an old property deed, a “License to Trade with Indians,” and some personal correspondence between a New York Metropolitan Opera soprano and the wife of Mr. Hailey, for whom Haileyville, Oklahoma was named. The singer was discussing a trip to McAlester to sing at the Busby Theater. Big Art in Indian Territory times. Hey, that would be Big Art anywhere in Oklahoma, even today!
These days, I see a lot more new than old. Some things so new they aren’t even on the shelf yet. When people special-order a new book, I always let them know the arrival date – and if they can’t make it in that day, I promise to protect their purchase…
With my Life.
At least now I have some method of protection. Book thieves beware! This seller is now armed with steel, and should you be so kind as to allow sufficient time for me to get these rusted old things from their sheaths, I’ll try to keep you at bay while pointing you in the direction of Self-Help or Science Fiction.
Actually, my mission is to photograph the items with a macro-lens that will provide evidence as to the manufacturer and what other information might be gleaned from the various stampings and insignias. When the blades are documented as much as possible, I’m to forward the images to an expert (sort of an Antiques Roadshow type) to determine whether they are worth putting up for sale at auction. You can click on any image to see a larger version, although the Klingenthal blade is still hard to read…)
Some of the old swords are pricey. Whether these are, or not, will depend on the evaluation of my pictures, I suppose.
In the meantime, while they are in my custody, I have three options:
1. I can defend myself as best I can against whatever has caused the death of a citizen in downtown Broken Arrow this evening. (No kidding. There is CSI-type yellow tape blocking off part of the intersection down by Fiesta Mambo’s restaurant, with two BA officers guarding the “crime scene.”) I was just mentioning how the BA firemen make daily runs down Main, just to keep in practice – usually shutting off the sirens and lights near Dallas Street. (Where the body was found.) Oooooooh, the irony! Also, (not to be mean, but) I’m wondering if the BA Ledger will report a death just blocks from their office in a more timely fashion than the news of the Elm Street MovieStar Cinema’s demise. (15 days.)
2. I can symbolically protect the purchases (at least until the swords are removed from the shop) by waving them above my head every time someone makes a special order and isn’t sure they can pick the book up on the exact day it arrives. (I’m not sure this activity is covered under the current business insurance policy.)
3. I can loan the blades out to anyone who orders Bangers & Mash from the lunch menu. (I’m only kidding about using the swords to cut up the sausage links, as it takes a sharper blade.) (I’m kidding about the kidding. They can be cut with a dull blade, too.)
So, until a resolution is reached as to their auction-house-viability, I’ll have to contend with Hara-kiri temptation, the urge to hoist one aloft while shouting “All for one and one for all!” and the obvious –
Finding someplace to stash two attention-grabbing swords where they won’t end up in the hands of an Inigo Montoya fan determined to act out his pivotal scene in the Princess Bride.
Wanna see a vintage sword up close? Come visit!
“Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” (Just kidding, I’m McHuston…)
Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow OK!
