How Coins become Marvelous (Part 4)

We have seen that marvelous coin are singular and demand special care, but did you know that such coins possess transcendent properties?
   When a coin is chosen for the collection, it is chosen for its power to speak. True collectors are creating a narrative. As I have said many times before, each coin plays a unique role in the story that the collector is telling.
   With old coins, this role typically has a historical bent, but it can also have an artistic, or in a few cases, an obsessional bent (the latter occurs in cases when the collector is searching out every variation or completing arbitrary date and mint runs). As a necromancer, I can tell you that history is the prominent theme that is explored in this blog, but all of the aforementioned facets drive us forward in our quest. For example, among my many interests, I collect ships. In particular, I like sailing ships on coins and tokens that were actually made during the age of sail (history). But, I choose only the ships that I find beautiful (artistic). Plus, I have a notion of how to define the boundaries of the set (completion).

A common Flying Eagle Cent is enough to spark an
imaginative flight into history. This is how an old coin
can possess transcendent properties. It is the way of the
necromancer to pinch a penny at an old country store.

   Consequently, a marvelous coin embodies all the aspirations and hopes of the collector. From a historical perspective, a collected coin has something to say about the era from which it came and the people who might have used it. The coin speaks to the collector (hence, the necromancer's experience of a coin that is animated by a thousand fingertips).
   Hopefully, you are sensitive enough to hear your coins speak -- too often, collectors are distracted by investment potential and market valuations. Alternatively, many collectors do not spend enough time with the coins that they already own, thereby losing track of what they have. Either way, these distracted collectors are lost.
   So what are the transcendent properties of marvelous coins? Three aspects come to mind. First, the coin represents a real piece of history. The coin was there! An old coin is like a "low-tech" time machine. We are fascinated with an object that was used by others long before us. We cannot quite see the fingerprints of others, but we can see (and feel) the wear and tear. This is why circulated coins are celebrated in this blog -- this is history (a shiny new coin is mute). A worn, battered, or corroded coin is like a deeply lined, aging face: we are captivated and cannot look away.
   Second, the coin does something to us. It stimulates our imagination about the past. If we are well-read, our imagination may reflect the books we have read; if not, our imaginings will be all over the place. But who is to say that one collage of images is more accurate than another? And does it matter? After all, history is mostly imagination anyway. We cannot go back.
   And don't be fooled by high-minded historians, as they cannot go back either. They simply don't know that much. After all, we only have a few recollections and some rusty artifacts to go by. And who is to say that the words of a Prince or a statesmen or a pauper have more or less validity? And so, we are left with a few coins and our imaginations.
   Third, the coin sparks a deeply rooted fear of our own oblivion (at least on earth). We are enamored by objects that have outlived our forefathers and mothers. Ruins, rusty pots and pans, yellowed documents, and worn, battered and corroded coins are symbols that cut deeply -- in a Freudian way -- into our sense of who we are. No wonder that every community seems to have a historical district, or that every collectors talks about the history and agedness of their coins. Some folks choose primitive tools, some choose ancient artifacts, and we choose coins.
   So you see, coins allow us to transcend the bounds of our fleeting lifespans. They allows us to imagine previous times as if we were there with coin in hand. We animate our coins with all sorts of spirits that rise up from between rims. Yes, old coins (once collected) possess transcendent properties.

Coin rituals help to define the marvelous coins in our collection

All collectors have rituals. We take on the role of museum curator and apply specific skills in the care and feeding of our coins. When a coin is transformed from the mundane to the marvelous, the demand for special care becomes acute. However, the necromancer recognizes that each coin plays a unique role in the collection; therefore each coin will be treated differently. Confused? This will become clear  over time: Read on, some of the answer is here (and some to come later).
   I find it fascinating to watch this transformation take place. Go to a coin show and watch. One minute the collector is thumbing through a box of so-called "junk" coins looking for something special. The coins are shoveled this way and that. Picked up with a fat thumb. Often, they are stacked and re-stacked outside the box and rudely tossed back in when rejected. But once a coin is selected -- the instant the coin is selected -- the collector's attitude changes. The coin is carefully placed to the side, not tossed, or slid on the countertop, but gently lifted and removed from the rest.
   Later, when the coin is brought home, it is studied. Then, a decision is made on how to store it. Most often, a holder is retrieved, and the coin is placed in it. Some coins are gently brushed clean. Other are left dirty. It all depends on the role that the coin will play in the collection. Then comes the paperwork: a label is made, or an entry is logged.
   The coin has become marvelous now that it has been selected for the collection and integrated into it. Yesterday the coin was in a "junk" box; today it is marvelous. It has been transformed by the collector and that has made all the difference. Henceforth, the coin becomes the focus of a well-honed set of rituals that includes proper handling and an attitude of reverence. Even coins that were purchased as "touch" pieces are treated in a special way.

A lovely flowing hair half dollar gently bedded in a hand-
woven cotton insert that fits tightly in a paper envelope.
Each viewing demands care and reverence plus basic coin
handling skills. But, it can be, and should be, touched in
order to experience the magic: the necromancer finds the
balance inherent in power of kratophany.

   In contrast, I have seen dealers rudely slap a lowly chain cent on the glass while shouting out a price. Not just any cent, mind you, but a chain cent. I have seen it with old silver pieces too. Why do they do this? The reason is simple: unloved or commodity coins are not special. Dealers often lose sight of the perspective that guides the collector. After all, coins for sale are just money to buy a salad and steak dinner later on. This is not to punch all dealers in the stomach, as many dealers do understand, and do show reverence to the objects from which they make a living wage.
   As you can see, the question of whether or not a coin is marvelous is relative. It is defined by the collector, not the dealer, not the guidebook, not by rarity ratings, not by demand.
   Unfortunately, the coin marketplace is unforgiving. Take slabbed coins for instance (a development that the necromancer abhors in most instances). A coin in a slab shouts out "sell me." The coin is encased in thick plastic; the condition grade is printed boldly on the label. As such, it is packaged and ready for sale. A coin encased in plastic cannot be experienced, that is to  say, it cannot be touched. The collector does not have the opportunity to gently move it to the side, to select it for special treatment.
   I submit that slabs stand in the way of true collecting. This is not the way of the coin necromancer. There is no middle ground here for those who collect coins with the purpose of evoking images of the past. Consequently, the coin must come out of the slab, so that it can be experienced and cared for by the collector in a way that allows the collector to use their skills while also defining the unique role that the coin plays in the collection.
   Arranging and handling coins are integral parts of the ritual that allows a person to commune with objects to give them meaning. To interact with a real piece of the past is the goal of the necromancer. Our coin care rituals stem from the power of kratophany: a power born of simultaneous approach and avoidance tendencies. In short, coins, and other relics from the past, have a power that pulls us in and pushes us away. They are to be touched but not touched. The challenge is to find the middle ground. And for each coin, the middle ground is different.

How Coins become Marvelous (Part 3)

Marvelous coins have four attributes. I explored the first attribute in a previous post. It is time now to explore the second attribute.
     Marvelous coins demand special care. Once a coin has been chosen to be collected, it takes on a new role. No longer money, it becomes a singular object that plays a specific role in the collection. Consequently, the coin is treated differently than when it was simply pocket change. The second attribute is Special Care Needed.

This marvelous NJ copper was once in a slab. Yet, before
that, it was exposed to the environment for a long time,
accumulating deep cuprite deposits with perhaps a bit of
tenorite where the color goes black-- in short, the piece was
going back to nature. All of this: from the horse and plow
design, to its history of use, to the "rust" that accumulated
is part of its history. It has a complicated story, and stories
is what coin necromancy is all about. Marvelous!

     As collectors we are accustomed to all sorts of holders. One of the first things we do after acquiring a coin for the collection is to place it in a special envelope, 2x2 flip, plastic holder, or slab -- whatever the collector desires. But from this point onward, the coin is treated with special care.
     The transition from old money to marvelous object is made clear in how we change our behavior once a coin is chosen to be included in a collection. Consider this ruddy horse and plow New Jersey copper. It was probably on the ground or behind a hutch for a long while, perhaps falling onto, or between, the floorboards of an old storehouse in the 1780s. There it sat with its surfaces accumulating corrosion products as the copper spewed off electrons, oxidizing to the wonderful mosaic you see here. After acquiring this unlikely survivor from the days of George Washington, the collector is likely to go into extreme protection mode: cotton insert, 2x2 non-sulfuric envelope and so on in order to protect this coin -- a coin that has already endured years in the harsh environment.
     We know the rituals well: safe storage, holding the coin on its edges, gently brushing with a camel hair brush (why not horse hair?). This rather obsessive-compulsive manner of behaving is the collector's way. This is how we behave when the object is Marvelous.

No Two Alike

One of the definitions of collecting (versus accumulating, or worse, hoarding) is the rule: No Two Alike.
     Each coin in a collection plays a specific role. Consequently, the collector strives to find the best player. Once the best is found, no duplicates are needed, as they do not add to the collection. A duplicate is just that: a coin without a role of its own -- except to trade for a coin that is needed for the collection.

This cent shows a thick green patina, probably malachite
bronchantite, exfoliating to reveal cuprite and maybe
a bit of bornite just under the chin. Gotta love it!

     We have seen that marvelous coins are singular. They have been elevated from their utility value to the outer-worldly category of collected objects. A duplicate, however, has utility: it can be traded for another coin or be held as an investment to sell later at a higher price. Hence, a duplicate is useful, not singular. No matter what you say, it is not. Duplicates are the stuff of accumulators and hoarders.
     One way to increase the breadth of a collection is to assign new roles to coins so that they do play a unique role. In this regard, we have mint marks that differentiate cents of the same date. We also have die varieties and die states. All of these categorizations make each coin unique, allowing us to follow the rule: No Two Alike.
     It is important to understand this rule in order to appreciate how coins become marvelous, and more specifically, how they become singular in the act of collecting them.
     Of course, it depends on how we define "alike." If you collect relic-coins, then the pattern of corrosion itself is the differentiating factor. Such coins, although shunned by many numismatists (undeservedly so), are unique in the way that they corrode. Even then, it depends on how the collection is organized. And so, consider the marvelous coin pictured here: an Indian cent in full bloom. It was in the ground for years. This one is steeped in history: it circulated, was lost, was probably searched for, and eventually found with a metal detector with much delight, and now you are viewing it.
     It is marvelous, and certainly singular.