Grateful for Stories: A Reflection on the 46th Boston International Antiquarian Book Fair

In Boston, history is written under your feet.

Not just because this city is the site of the first subway in North America, but from the Freedom Trail to the site of the first public school, you accidentally trip on a story written in stone. It makes sense, then, to have a city this invested in history, emotionally, physically, and financially, host a book fair focused on rare, antique, and iconic titles and objects.

Just steps from Copley Square and famous Newbury Street, flocked by tourists and locals alike, the 46th Boston International Antiquarian Book Fair promised not just opportunities to view famous works, but also to use one semi-new word more than once: antiquarian (It has graced The Knockturnal before, though). Before visiting the book fair, I confess that I don’t think this word has ever escaped my lips. While specifically referring to the management and work with rare books, “antiquarian” can also refer to the study of antiquities. How fitting, then, that a place like Boston, which prides itself on Dunkin Donuts keeping the history of America alive and protected, would host a celebration of the literary world. “There’s definitely this sense of, especially for people who are buying or selling Americana, this is a great city with revolutionary history and all of that. So that certainly plays a role,” shared Alexander Akin, President of the Antiquarian Booksellers Association of America. And history isn’t the only defining feature of Boston. More than 40 institutes of higher education call Boston home which helps make Bean Town a “College Town,” as Akin reminded me. 

The words “book fair” throw me back into scenes of yore in the elementary school gym with the Scholastic Book Fair: poring over dynamic book covers, investigating bright erasers, eyeing your friends lists to see what they chose, and considering whether I really needed to join the fan club for R.L. Stein’s Goosebumps (news flash: I did). So how could one describe this event that took over the Hynes Convention Center with a hundred different booths offering a multitude of discoveries?

I went straight to the source to seek out a definition of the Antiquarian Book Fair for the uninitiated, like me: “If you’re interested in the printed word or even printed graphics, this is like a museum of the last 1000 years,” Akin defined.

Perfect. 

I walked through the convention doors and straight into my first find: a pre-publication presentation copy of the first edition of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, complete with a note from Dickens himself to his son’s godfather. $490,000. Technically, an undergraduate education at Harvard is still cheaper, but not by much.  I gasped, gulped, gawked, and grinned, both at the total but also the playground of prose around me. There were elements that might be dangerous for your wallet, yes, but also impressionable and personal to the heart: several first editions of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone could be found among the stacks. 

“People will look at things from their formative periods in their life and a lot of the people selling have that same feeling of nostalgia,” Akin described. Was that was I was feeling, nostalgia? Or was it the danger of spending money? Or fear that boiled up when I looked at an art piece that resembled glasses but had spikes built in where your eyes should go? Or was it just a sugar high from the many, man pieces of post-Halloween candy in bowls along the Conventions Center?

As I strolled the booths, snagging free tiny books, taking photos of the displays, and chatting with vendors, I noticed the mixture of ages. Infants rolled along in strollers. Mature guests roaming. Boston University College of Communication students capturing footage for a reporting class. It felt inviting, not exclusive. 

“We welcome people of all ages, of course, but we really have tried to make an effort to make sure that younger folks like college students…they may not have much of a budget to spend now, but you know, going forward, once they realize what’s here, hopefully, they’ll keep coming back,” Akin shared.

Part of the draw, of the Book Fair, I feel, is the attractive and affordable price: it is free to attend.

What might we find in a booth 100 years from now?  That’s what I keep in my head as I stroll the antiques. That and gratitude. I am grateful that these stories, maps, toys, pieces of art, and other microcosms and celebrations of the “written word” are kept masterfully,a nd dutifully. And even though they may go home in a select group of hands, the opportunity to view them is what energizes the center. 

“There’s something for everybody here,” Akin shares. The bookmarks and pamphlets advertising the fair agrees that the fair is for everyone: For the serious collector or the curious browser” and everyone in between. 

Stories are important, and even more so in physical form. Tangible. Unmissable. Unmistakable. And they add to our history. And while Boston has some of theirs written in stone, also unmissable, unmistakable, and yes, trip-over-able, in both, we’re skipping into memories of the future past.