The Silmarillion — Collector's Edition (1982)

In late 2008, Wayne G. Hammond posted some of his (then) current thoughts in regard to the 1982 Collector's Edition of The Silmarillion on the discussion forum at TOLKIEN COLLECTOR'S GUIDE (TCG). Most of what he said seems to have dropped largely out of sight. I thought it worth resurrecting, with some additional analysis.

 

[Posting as ‘Findegil’, Hammond's original post can be read here.]

For his and Douglas A. Anderson's ‘Limited edition (1982)’ entry (A15h) in J.R.R. Tolkien: A Descriptive Bibliography (St Paul's Bibliographies / Oak Knoll Books, 1993) ‘elaborate data’ derived from publishers' records had to be condensed to a ‘comfortable level of certainty’. As a consequence, the Descriptive Bibliography entry is—understandably and not unexpectedly—quite brief; concise, accurate (of course), but with little conjecture. Hammond's TCG post gave him the opportunity to expand upon the published detail, to pose questions, and provided some interesting speculation. Some of the publication minutiae still remains elusive.

This edition—commonly referred to as a ‘super deluxe’—is not common and is (certainly now) prohibitively expensive to acquire on the open market. As a result, it is difficult for collectors or researchers to study copies, confirm or gain new knowledge. Photographic images are helpful, certainly; many of those to be found online are from historical listings for copies sold by THE TOLKIEN LIBRARY (Pieter Collier), THE TOLKIEN BOOKSHELF (David Miller), auction houses, etc.

In 1977 GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN (GA&U) had kept back a thousand sheets of the first impression printed by WILLIAM CLOWES & SONS (printers); five years later these sheets were bound up to produce the 1982 Collector's Edition. The September 1982 publication was to coincide with the book's fifth anniversary, although the book wasn't marked as an ‘anniversary edition’. (Unlike The Hobbit five years later which proclaimed itself an ‘anniversary super de luxe’ on the copyright page.) The release was promoted to the book-trade and public from around February 1982 onwards.

Couple of specific points worth further consideration. Firstly, quality.

The prospectus (above)—the one described by Hammond as ‘directed to the public’—describes a wonderful sounding book; although it is questionable in 1982 (or now) whether this was the ‘ultimate acquisition’ for those who ‘care for and collect fine books’. Another claim, that it would be a ‘superb example of the craft of hand book binding’, encapsulates vague promises of quality. Even so, it wouldn't be unreasonable for prospective buyers to expect something beyond normal trade publishing standards; and—provided the book has been looked after—for someone today to expect likewise. But the prospectuses were—as Hammond, charitably, comments in Descriptive Bibliography—incorrect or imprecise in various respects. And if one is lucky enough to handle a copy, take the time to examine the book more closely, interrogate some of those advertised claims... well, Hammond is on to something—they don't, in truth, all stand up.

In a recent BLACKWELL'S RARE BOOKS catalogue (Antiquarian and Modern [catalogue B203], n.d. [2023], p. 48, item 67) the cataloguer, Henry Gott, couldn't even bring himself in good conscience to describe the binding as leather, instead opting for ‘full red leatherette’; adding—far less charitably—that ‘the cynical might note this to be a triumph of marketing rather than of book design’. A former employee of GA&U once described this book to me as ‘a cynical commercial operation that made a vast amount of money’. (The 2023 Blackwell's copy sold—quickly—for the £2,000 asking price.)

So, what should one have expected of an ‘exquisitely hand bound’ book? One should have expected quality materials and fine-binding features. It is not clear this edition meets either criteria. The page-block hasn't—not surprisingly—been rounded or backed by hand. The book construction is disappointingly—but again, not unexpectedly—a case-binding; the raised bands are, of course, false. The endpapers are simply tipped-on, therefore structurally weak; the headbands are machine-made. All of this is trade, not craft.

But the biggest question mark (for me) is over the binding material, described in the prospectus as ‘finest grained red Moroccan [sic] leather’. The leather used—on the three copies I've examined—doesn't appear to be particularly high-grade; one with, for example, a natural grain pattern, characteristic of full-grain leather. In fact, the grain pattern is noticeably pronounced; side-by-side comparison shows evidence of grain pattern repetition, suggestive of a corrected-grain i.e. a leather with an embossed grain pattern. This may have been necessary because a split-leather was used; again, not a high-grade, quality leather. (The term ‘Morocco’ is also conveniently slippery; it implies quality.) The leather also has an unnatural, almost plastic-like feel (and look) to it, possibly the result of poorly executed finishing layers. Fugitive white marks on the leather have also been noted. For anyone who has handled leather books—particularly early twentieth-century or earlier—there is something noticeably amiss here.

Secondly, number of copies. 

In Descriptive Bibliography it is stated:

‘Allen & Unwin do not seem to have bound all 1,000 sets of sheets, and some originally unsigned copies were later converted to signed copies. All 100 signed copies appear to have been sold.’ 

But as Hammond's TCG post explains, it was more complicated than this.

GA&U appear to have initially bound up only 170 copies; assigned numbers 1–70 and 101–200. Most of the plates signed by Christopher Tolkien (70 of them) were bound into numbers 1–70 in the first instance; these are full-page signed limitation plates, as originally intended. More copies were then bound up beyond the initial 170 total; assigned numbers 201–299. The final 30 signed copies were created by ‘converting’ copies originally intended as unsigned copies. This conversion appears to have been random; various copies with assigned numbers between 150 and 299 became signed copies 71–100. And because the method chosen to create the final 30 signed copies was conversion these copies display cut-down limitation plates, not full-page plates. These cut-down plates are seen affixed to the recto f.f.e.p., but other placement variations may exist.

From noting the characteristics of known copies—and using the detailed numbering evidence cited by Hammond—it is possible to say with some certainty that three distinct variants of this Clowes issue exist: 1) copies with full-page signed limitation plates; 2) copies with cut-down signed limitation plates; and 3) copies with cut-down unsigned limitation plates.

 

Hammond states that in the end approximately 300 copies were likely bound; copies (originally) numbered 1–70 and 101–200, and numbers 201–299, plus number 99 and other copies unaccounted for. This is further supported by a publisher's file note—cited by Hammond, from March 1988—stating 700 sets of sheets were still held (around six years later) by the publisher. There is no evidence the remaining 700 sheets were ever bound; the presumption is they were, in all likelihood, pulped. 

NOTE: The numbering breakdown detail is redacted from a slightly longer piece of work (unpublished). I will save the internet from the granular detail, for now.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Wayne G. Hammond material used with permission.