vrijdag 30 november 2012

Charles Cros


Last Sunday I paid my good friend Han a visit. The both of us started Antiquariaat Verzameld Werk in 1985. Han left in 2006 and set up a business of his own, Grafiet. However, his work at the Honors Academy of our Radboud University is taking more and more of his time, leaving less and less for Grafiet. So he decided to give up his business. (It’s not a full stop; he will continue making an occasional catalogue, every now and then, just for fun.)




Last weekend Han said goodbye to all his customers and began selling off almost all his ‘stuff’ (That’s the word he uses). I bought some books. Among them CROS, CHARLES Les 4 saisons. Une suite de poems, the first edition was printed by H.v.Krimpen in 1944. This is the 1946-reprint and I know it’s not rare and I know it’s hard to sell these days, but I think it’s a lovely booklet. I like the quality of the paper, the typography and the colors of the ink. A sight for sore eyes!


vrijdag 23 november 2012

knorrende beesten


For lovers of Dutch literature of the 20th century the first edition of Bordewijks ‘knorrende beesten’ (1932) is a well known and  collectible item. The story is a very modern tale about cars. Typography and cover are by Kees Strooband.




I saw it listed in a catalogue and bought it (€ 110). It wasn’t that expensive and the lady that sold it to me said it was a nice copy. When the book arrived a week ago it appeared  to be even nicer than I intentionally thought it was.

It was inscribed by Roel Houwink, a literary critic who reviewed knorrende beesten in Opwaartsche Wegen in 1934. There was a second owners’ entry: A. Dreesman, the man who was responsible for the expansive growth of V&D in the Netherlands. Always good to know that a captain of Industry did buy antiquarian books.

A couple of days later I placed knorrende beesten on my Friday list (€ 200) and mentioned Houwink and Dreesman. Sadly I only had one copy and had to disappoint two other potential buyers.

maandag 19 november 2012

Here I am



I started a blog today. Indeed, an  emphasized ‘I’, the first word to be read. It’s about me. That is, it’s about me and my shop, Antiquariaat Verzameld Werk. It’s about me being an antiquarian bookseller. My name is Berend Immink and I live in Nijmegen, The Netherlands.

About twelve years ago I started the so-called Friday lists, small  catalogues, sent to my customers by e-mail every Friday. They replaced the catalogues we were famous for. Well, famous might be a bit overrated, but they had a certain name. Mainly because they were made by Martien Frijns, who now is a well known book designer, but in those days he was starting and trying almost everything, though he had a soft spot for big wooden letterfonts. 























I mentioned ‘we’. I started my business in 1985, with Han Rouwenhorst. We both studied literature in Nijmegen and were determined not to end up as teachers (like most students were supposed to). We were different, we were going to be antiquarian booksellers. And so we did. Han quit in 2006, but we’re still good friends. And I still own Verzameld Werk, but a lot has changed since the beginning.  

My shop is small and used to be big. My shop has no opening hours and is visitable only by appointment. I no longer issue paper catalogues, only digital ones. I’m not interested anymore in  ‘a stock as collection’ and I no longer want to be the one that is saving books ‘because they used to be important’. It’s just me who has to think they’re important.
Here's a link to my shop's website:

On the other hand, some things didn’t change. We always had our personal way of describing the books in our catalogues. Some books became interesting because we had decided they were interesting. And most of our customers appreciated this. And that’s why I started this blog today: I want to make a personal statement. And write about my fresh, just bought books, about my customers (I will name them all by a random letter), about my shipping problems, book restoration, about my doubts, my failures and my successes.