Lost Cents, Dead Owners Book

I have treated myself to a new book. But I had to write it.
   I have often wondered why we do not have a numismatic literature akin to other realms of antique collecting. That is to say, a literature that explores the secret lives of objects (in this case coins) and our emotional attachment to them. With all the time, effort, and money that folks pour into their collections, I am surprised that we have not developed an introspective perspective.
   Sometimes we get snippets. William Sheldon comes to mind: He wrote about the joy of fingering through a box of large cents on the kitchen table. He described an idyllic scene of "making out the big cents." Sheldon also waxed poetic about the charm and beauty of an aged cent. It appears that he once appreciated the encrustations of corrosion with a childlike wonderment. Others have followed with reflective remembrances of their own, but few have explored the topic in any depth.
   Instead, the collecting literature has been dominated by guidebooks filled with rarity ratings and valuations. Sometimes we get heroic tales of folks seeking, finding, and eventually selling great numismatic rarities: so-called adventures with rare coins. This is fine; I enjoy these snapshots too. But why is there no literature on the intrigue that we all must have felt when we first held a worn and battered coin that was older than us, older than our fathers, older than our grandfathers?

Here is the proof for the cover. LCDO is examines our reactions to relic
coins and explores the corrosion processes that make these coins evocative.
Also provided are some guidelines for collecting them, but no grading or pricing.

 
   This was the book I wanted to read. I have found solace in other places however. For example, archeological studies -- if you can find a great writer like Ivor Hume -- can enliven any coin dug from historic dirt. Also, there is a generic collecting literature -- most quite dated -- that ventures into the limbic system of the devoted collector; here, I am thinking of Maurice Rheims and the Rigbys. So too, the museum studies group has produced some insightful gems about how old objects speak to us, many of them penned by Susan Pearce. All good stuff.
   But what about the collector who enjoys a common coin that looks its age and comes from the hands of regular folks who toiled long and hard to make a living? This is a coin whose only significance is that it survived. This, too, is history in your hand. Yet, few books are devoted to the complex mix of emotions that a battered coin evokes.
   Sometimes I find myself reading books about ruins and dug relics to get my fix on the remarkable charms of battered, old coins. Many of us can explore a ruined farmstead all day long. After all, a collapsing roof is evocative. So too, is the rusty nail that might be found on the ground whereat nature squeezed it out of the planking. And, a coin -- perhaps the only one from this site -- is just cause for celebration. It is a find! Unique. And, way cool!
   Where is the book about these coins?
   Well, I wrote it. It has been burning in me for several winters.
   This book explores the impact of relic coins on our psyche. It is a slim volume of 80 pages that will provide a nice weekend read by the fire. The coins are presented in full color on broad 8.5x11 pages with many provocative pieces that come from years of honing an aesthetic for relics.
   You cannot read this book without it changing how you view collecting. Non-collectors are likely to find it interesting too. I gave it a provocative title to separate it from all the guidebooks that dominate the numismatic landscape. It is called: Lost Cents, Dead Owner: Appreciating Coins in Decay. 
   Yes, it is time to change your perspective. The book will be available soon.
 

Collecting Coins is NOT Rational: Part 1.

Collecting coins is not rational. Never was. And, this is not just for necromancers, either.
   We like to think of ourselves as guided by rationality. Not true. Psychological science has weighed in on this long ago: we make irrational judgments and decisions every day. Yet, we believe that we carefully consider data before making important decisions. And, sometimes we do. But most of the time, NOT!
   Coin collecting -- all collecting, really -- is (was) never rational. In this series, I will tell you why.
   Of course rational pleas surround us. CDN publishing tries to sell us "the most important numismatic investment you can make" by hawking its greysheets and bluesheets. Bowers and other (pro-market) luminaries emphasize the "good buys" that can be discovered in a few minute details (extra feather anyone?). Plus, there are commentators who envision an "all-seeing, all-knowing" rational collector (see the "Market Whimsy" column in The Numismatist).
   I do enjoy reading all of this. But all this talk is wrong-headed.
   They confuse market-minded, investment-oriented attitudes with those of the true collector. Yes, coin collecting for most folks is about supply and demand -- the smart buyer is king (or as Heritage titles their magazine, The Intelligent Collector). So sad.
   I must be kind and allow that there is nothing wrong with being a collector-investor. No one wants to feel like they are throwing their money away. And, no one wants to feel duped by a wheeler-dealer (who really is in it for the dollars). It is true that many "collectors" enjoy the marketplace and revel in telling how they nabbed a rare coin for a pittance.
   Let's be clear however, pure collecting is antithetical of investing. They do not go hand-in-hand like new lovers looking for a secluded space. It might be the case that pure collecting is an ideal never truly achieved, for who has not stumbled on, and purchased, a rare item for the sole purpose of trading it later. This is the apple that sends us out into the cold.
   Why are we shivering? Why do so many folks get mad when the U.S. Mint does not sell them ready-made rare coins for which a profit can be turned before they arrive in the post? Yes, this anger is the latest perversion of coin collectors who have lost their way! Poor souls.
   The necromancer has no sorrow for those folks whose frontal lobes have been scrubbed with promises of investment bliss. Numismatic heroism is not what it used to be. Instead, it is about "beating" the Redbook and gyrating in the end zone. Is this rational? Probably not, but it pretends to be.

Now back to my original point: If pure collecting is irrational, then what does this mean? Are pure collectors (i.e., those intrinsically motivated) as silly as the so-called rational folks looking for a deal?
   Here is the short answer. Pure collecting is irrational because it is all about the magic. And magic is not rational.
   Let's break it down. True collecting is about ascribing meaning to an object, moving it out of the realm of the useful and into the realm of the symbolic. As such, it is deeply personal. This transition from the useful to the symbolic is a creative act. It is about making (or finding) meaning in your life. There is nothing rational about that! Consider this: a chain cent means completely different things to different collectors -- ten collectors, ten different meanings! Each collector has a specific reason for wanting one of these wonderful cents.
   None of this is lost on the necromancer who tends to search for meaning in relics that were used -- heavily so -- and thereby hold the spirits of all who touched it. Any hint of acquisitiveness dampens the flame.
   Of course, we must learn to tolerate some dampening, as most relics have to be purchased nowadays. Not all of us have shovels at the ready. So money (and some assessment of value) has to be reckoned with. So be it.
   With this intro, I will list five irrational qualities of the true collector. Coming up.