Things That Are Wrong with Vintage Paperback Books

 or

Waddaya Expect for a Quarter?

 

My wife collects depression glass. That's the cheap-looking glassware that was sold during the 1930's (the depression years -- hence the name). The glassware looks cheap because it was. A plate usually sold for a quarter, a glass for a dime. Sometimes, it was given away free as an incentive, in a box of oatmeal, for example. Today that 25-cent plate might sell for a hundred bucks because it's considered a "collectible." But nothing's going to change the fact that it's construction was cheap. You'll often find bubbles and other flaws in the glass.

In 1939, Robert DeGraff gambled on American literacy and won. Before that, publishers seem to have separated the American reading public into two distinct categories: people that could afford a $3 book and were willing to spend that substantial amount to keep up-to-date on the latest titles, and people who would much rather spend 15 or 20 cents on a pulp magazine for the sensational nature of the content. After Pocket Book began printing the 25-cent book, the whole concept of publishing for the American public was forever changed. Today, economists would call it "The McDonald's Concept;" that is, making big bucks through sheer volume.

That wasn't exactly new in 1939. Woolworth's had been around for quite awhile. But this was a giant leap for the publishing industry in this country. Still, with the net profit per book radically slim, you can imagine that certain cost-cutting measures had to be assumed from the start. The amount of paper (number of pages), ink, printing methods, royalties, cover art, laminate or other finish, glue, distribution methods, and dozens of other factors had to be placed into the formula that either made the book an economically viable undertaking or a money-loser. With every other publisher in the nation pointing fingers at this dramatic new format the way buggy-makers pointed at the first automobiles, you can imagine the strain DeGraff, Ballantine, Meyer, etc., were under to make things turn even a marginal profit.

And so, like depression glass, vintage paperbacks have flaws. Most of the time, they are small, minor things; things people accept out-of-hand, because this wasn't some expensive, $3 slipcovered hardbound volume. It was just a paperback. And for a quarter, it was, without a doubt, one heck of a bargain.

One thing that is usually imperceptible to the casual reader, but becomes painfully obvious if you were to make a scan of the cover, is that paperback books aren't "square." In other words, even though the book is cut into what should be a perfect rectangle, and even though the graphic design of the cover is obviously rectangular, the two very often don't "fit" perfectly. This means that if you put a paperback book into your computer scanner and frame it exactly to the edges of the book, the resultant image may appear skewed, or "out of square." Frame the picture on the illustration, and you may not be able to get everything in before running into the book's edge.

Also, paperback books don't "wear" well. Like periodicals, they were meant to be read once or twice and then thrown away. It is almost impossible to read one without damaging it at least slightly. The average reader will find even a modern paperback's cover creased when he is through with it, and often the spine of the book will be either broken, bent, creased or worn. Once read, a paperback will never look new again.

In addition, pulp yellows with age when exposed to the air, and so the pages tend to discolor from the outside edges toward the center. The better the paper, the less discoloration (some of the early Pocket Books are a good example, remaining bright and white 60 years later). The cheap pulp pages of Armed Services Editions are almost always brittle and yellowed.

The type of glue used on a book will determine what damage is typical for that publishing house. Gold Medal and Signet used a glue that became very brittle over time (not that they cared – once again, the books weren't meant to get old). The spines of these books tend to break and pages can fall free as a result. Dell often used a fabric along the spines of the pages before affixing the wrapper (cover) with a glue that remained less brittle over time (Dell books are often referred to as "pliable" in sellers’ descriptions). This trait, however, means that Dell's tend to "warp" more frequently than others. If a book isn't stored squarely, the spine will tend to bend, or "tilt," sometimes to the point of breakage. Since Dell's spines tend not to break, they warp, almost always toward the front cover. This means that the concave back cover (mapbacks) are often very difficult to scan without getting a glare along the spine-edge.

 Ah, the tribulations we vintage paperback collectors are forced to face. But then, just as my wife tends to overlook the bubbles in her cheap glassware, we tend to overlook the "cheapness" of our little treasures as well. And we have an added benefit … we can always read our collectibles. But we have to be very, very careful; for in many ways, they are much more delicate than glass.