LIBRARIANS’ giving offence by turning down well-meant gifts of beloved personal libraries is not a new problem. Three hundred years ago, the Keeper of the Sion College clergy library in London, William Reading, went so far as to print a massive folio catalogue, just to make it easier to turn away donations that he did not want, complaining that donations “create so much Trouble and Waste of Time to the Library-Keeper (four times as much as other Books) in examining and comparing them with others”.
Librarians have not mellowed over the past three centuries, and finding new homes for old books has not become less challenging. The task is complicated by the fact that downsizing or redistributing personal libraries almost always coincides with an emotionally charged change in personal circumstances: perhaps retirement, a move to a care home, or the death of a relative or close friend.
It can feel very upsetting at such a moment to hear that an organisation or person that you hold in affection and esteem — your theological college, your children, a curate you nurtured — does not want the books that you selected with care, and which have shaped your thought, your prayer, and your spiritual life.
The main reason that libraries, friends, and relatives refuse such donations is the same reason as people have for giving things away in the first place: lack of space and resources. Constantly moving between house shares has become a norm into middle age for much of the population. It is not possible to own a house-sized collection of books when all of life takes place in a single room.
Libraries are not quite so constrained, but cannot accept every book from every donation. Moreover, as William Reading discovered three centuries ago, cohorts tend to donate the same books at the same time. At the start of my career, all clerical retired people wanted to rehome well-thumbed copies of Austin Farrer’s works. Currently, it’s John Stott, and when Generation X retire there will be a flood of Rowan Williamses. All are truly excellent authors, which is why most libraries already have their books.
Ebooks have inevitably had an effect on how people curate their own collections, and how libraries make decisions about what they accept and keep. Until relatively recently, a donation of a complete set of something like the Parker Society volumes (Victorian editions of English Reformation texts) would have been invaluable for a library as a just-in-case reference resource, even if some of the more obscure titles might never be read.
But, now that the complete series is freely available in text-searchable format online, it is hard to argue that a full run of out-of-date critical editions would be a wise addition to a library with limited space and staff time.
SO, HOW, then, should one downsize personal theological libraries?
Despite the foregoing warning, do speak with friends, relatives, and libraries, but keep your expectations low, and your offer flexible. It is highly unlikely that any institution or individual will be willing or able to accept a library, lock, stock, and barrel, but there may be some items of interest to a library, and friends and family may appreciate the chance to select a volume as a keepsake.
The fastest route to ensuring that your books go straight into the recycling is to turn up somewhere with a box of books and expect the recipient to be thrilled. Many libraries will refuse even to consider a donation unless it is preceded by a complete list of all the materials available.
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If offering to a library, open negotiations by sending an email to the librarian and attach some clear digital photographs of your bookshelves to provide an overview of what type of books are on offer, and what condition they are in. It is often fairly straightforward at this point for the librarian to know whether it’s a “Thanks, but no thanks,” or “This is interesting: tell me more,” and it may save time and effort for both parties in the transaction.
There are not a large number of second-hand specialist theological book dealers remaining, but there are still some to be found near universities associated with clergy training, and in certain towns that are particularly associated with the used-book trade. You are unlikely to add substantially to your personal wealth, however, by offering your collection to a bookseller. Most will accept only a few volumes, which they select personally; some will charge you a fee to take books away.
It is possible to act as your own dealer, by selling through online auction sites, but generally this requires a great deal of labour for very little reward.
Many people seem to consider that donating books to charity is synonymous with absolute personal failure, and should be considered only as a last resort. It may offer the best opportunity, however, to ensure that your books end up in the hands of a person who will truly value them and be pleased to own them. There are several organisations that accept large one-off donations for resale and recycling, proceeds go towards good causes.
Of particular interest to readers of the Church Times is Book Aid (not to be confused with Book Aid International), which deals exclusively with Bibles and theological literature. By preference, these are redistributed to parts of the world where there are practical or political difficulties in acquiring Christian books. Books not needed for partner projects are sold second-hand in the UK, or, if damaged or infested, sent for recycling. Money raised from these sources help to pay shipping costs of materials sent overseas.
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Better World Books is a for-profit company which accepts donations of second-hand books on all subjects. (Do any Anglican clergy not own at least one book on steam trains?) A proportion of the profits is used to support literacy and library projects in the UK and around the world. Donations can either be posted to the UK processing centre in Fife, or left at a book drop. Book drop locations are shown on their website.
Oxfam is the largest chain of second-hand bookshops in Europe, generating income to support the charity’s humanitarian projects. Books on any subject and in any condition can be sent to a Freepost address, or handed in at one of their 600 shops (including 120 specialist book shops).
There is more than one way for your carefully gathered books to be your legacy. If you can think creatively, you will be able to find a way for your books to be used and appreciated, and do good. Resist the urge to think of giving to charity as a worst-case scenario: you may get to be a mystery benefactor and provide the perfect book to a kindred spirit you will never meet.
Anna James is the Librarian at St Paul’s Cathedral and secretary of ABTAPL.