I had decided today that I would meet a man, graduate student here, name of Dave, at the rail station and we would go to London to see Portobello market, the great antique market. But he wasn’t at Cambridge station when I arrived. So I went on alone I never did see him. Just as well, probably—it’s difficult to look at antique/flea markets with others, who always have very different interests from your own.
I’ve been interested in ivory things lately, notably scrimshaw. Unfortunately, real ones are hard to find, and outrageously expensive when you do. Tusks and bone are much more common. But I did see a few. Well, actually, I saw many. A great share of them were reproductions at £12-15 each, and while interesting and attractive, I like the real thing. But nothing as elaborate could be found in actual antique scrimshaw. In fact, I came across exactly 5 in the entire huge market. No, wait—6. Two were very nice, pictures made by a real artist. £200 each. One was a faint flower carving, with colored inks. £250. Then there were those in reasonable price range. One was a fair-sized, 4”, or so, a faint carving of a ship, for £55. I didn’t really like the work much and £55 is a little high, though as scrimshaw prices go….
Then a man had two of the very small teeth, one an old one with carving. Trouble is, he wanted £40, and he would not sell them separately. And on principle I won’t buy modern carving on whales’ teeth, no matter how well-executed. Scrimshaw is a folk art, result of life of certain people at a certain place in a certain time. Those conditions no longer exist, and whales are endangered species. I believe buying the “honest article,” not a reproduction—even a genuine tooth. Or especially a genuine tooth. Also, it’s illegal to import them to the States. In fact, I’m a little worried I’ll have a hassle with the old teeth—you can’t prove they’re old, actually, but I suspect they are because they are very simple designs, even crude, and forgers would not want anything crude—people are more attracted to the good stuff.
Anyway, that left one scrimshaw, a fair-sized one, with a ship and a “North Star” and a costume jewelry diamond in the star. The maker was no artist, for sure, but it’s an honest and humble attempt. It has an unfortunate chip, but in the back, not showing form the front. “Only” £35—well, cheap by scrimshaw standards. Probably because of the chip, and crude work. But it was an honest scrimshaw, which I believe really did once see a whaling-ship carver, so I bought it, all the while foolishly thinking not only can I not afford these things on student salaries, but that I am just feeding my noxious acquisitive-collection instinct. Why I need more junk I’ll never know!
In fact, I was thinking—I should clean out a lot of the old stuff. But what would go ? My bell collection? Oh, I’ve been at that for 25 or more years—too much nostalgia, and little resale value on the market anyway. Watches? They belonged to my relatives. Books? Well, I’ve already gotten rid of all I want to. Beer cans? They really don’t pose a problem on the wall at the lake. So I have lots of junk, but nothing I can really get rid of. Need a bigger house… but I don’t want to turn it into a curiosity shop either. It’s best not to go to these shows—I’m not tempted when I’m not there.
On the other hand…. I have some things no longer made, and hard to come by. Surely always be a market So it’s not the worst of purchases.
—May 21, 1988, Cambridge, England
OtD 