Tenuous Connections: The Left's Promotion of The Silmarillion

Ownership marks in (or on) books can often reveal something new or previously unknown. So why not collect these books? The previous owner may be someone well-known, making the book an association copy; they may be an institute or organisation, a library for example; they may be a book-collector, who had an attractive personal bookplate. The previous owner may be none of these; they may simply have been a reader, the book's temporary custodian. 

People often record only their name(s); occasionally you might see a full name and an address. But some provide information of (potentially) more bibliographical significance, recording the date of acquisition, perhaps even where the book was acquired. They may go much further and mark the book with annotations or marginalia proper; a whole other topic.

P.O. inscription

The above inscription appears inside (f.f.e.p.) a standard 1977 BILLING & SONS copy of The Silmarillion (S.081). The date recorded is publication day—Thursday 15th September, 1977—as the owner clearly understood. As I have an interest in the distribution of different variants/issues/states—particularly of the 1977 first edition—I thought this date and associated location might prove revelatory. (Presumably my rationale for acquiring.) Whether the inscription is contemporary is unclear; we'll probably never know if the owner inscribed the book at (or close) to publication. That said, there is no particular reason to doubt the detail recorded.

Clearly ‘Greenwich’ (the London borough) is where the previous owner lived; but I was more interested in where they'd bought this copy. I initially read the ‘bought at’ location as Colletson, which sounded like a place. There is a Colleton (no ‘s’) in Devon; Colletson is also a surname. In any case, convinced it was a town or location in England, I failed to identify it.

I mentioned the inscription (in passing) to Charles E. Noad. With typical insightfulness—added to that abundant knowledge of much early Tolkien—he immediately suggested (I think correctly) the inscription read ‘bought at Collets on first day of publication’, informing me that:

The Collet's International bookstore in Charing Cross Road in London, situated about where Foyle's is now located (or a bit north of it), was a leading left-wing bookstore, with a great deal of material from the Soviet Union and other communist countries.

Adding, that I might be surprised to learn:

that, for the publication of The Silmarillion, they had an enormous window display promoting the book. I think one reason was that Allen & Unwin had some connections with them.

I did learn; I'd never heard of COLLETS prior to this. I'm not sure if anyone else other than Charles would have an anecdote recalling a window display nearly fifty years ago either. Priceless.

In Dave Cope and Ross Bradshaw's Radical Bookshop History Project (updated April 2023), COLLETS' various outlets are noted. COLLETS was founded by Eva Collet Reckitt, who had philanthropic, left-leaning, Communist, and Socialist interests. At one point they had two bookshops on Charing Cross Road. Charles was certainly referring to the bookshop—as he specifically states—called COLLETS INTERNATIONAL BOOKSTORE (opened in 1976), which was situated at 129/131 Charing Cross Road. In Martha Redding Pease's The Bookshops of London (Fourth Estate, 1981 [Revised Ed. 1984]) the bookselling staff are described as ‘most helpful in tracking down titles from behind the Iron Curtain’. Cope and Bradshaw also mention Reckitt's ‘broad policy on stock’ and exclusions; we can only presume The Silmarillion was allowed on the grounds that it (or Tolkien) did not qualify as one of ‘those mysterious world religions’ that she drew a line at.

It would be interesting to dig further into the connections between GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN (GA&U) and COLLETS that Charles alludes to. Stanley Unwin was a conscientious objector. In the early years of Stanley's stewardship, GA&U were—as Rayner Unwin would recall in George Allen & Unwin: A Remembrancer (p. 20)—‘among the few who were prepared to publish books of radical and often unpopular opinion’. Cope/Bradshaw record Collets' Head Office (in the early 1960s) as being located at 44/45 Museum Street; GA&U's Museum Street offices were at number 40. They were (for a short time) neighbours.

Clearly one could research these—admittedly, rather tenuous—connections further. It would be fascinating—would it not?—to see a photograph of that window display from 1977; but, alas, such a photograph may not even exist.

The Radical Bookshop History Project can be found on Dave Cope's LEFT ON THE SHELF BOOKS (‘Research Section’) website here. 

POSTSCRIPT: Charles E. Noad's passing early this year is a huge loss to Tolkien Studies. He was unfailingly helpful to me, and always willing to discuss and share, whenever I pestered him with questions about The Silmarillion and various other early Tolkien matters. His knowledge—due to his memory of those early Tolkien years and his extensive notes—really was peerless. He will certainly be missed. Douglas A. Anderson's memories of Charles and their friendship is worth reading for further biographical information on Charles E. Noad. This can be found over at one of Doug's (many) blogs here.