Copleston’s “A History of Philosophy”

Yesterday I put my set of Durant’s The Story of Civilization up for offer. I said “you may expect more posts like this one in the near future.” The near future has arrived.

Here’s what Frederick Copleston‘s classic A History of Philosophy, a 15-volume paperback set, looks like on one of my library’s shelves. They’re clean and in great shape. Here’s the Wiki entry.

To repeat part of yesterday’s post, please “do your research about what this set is going for elsewhere and then, if interested, make inquiry. If we come to terms, I will lovingly wrap and package them, which are in very good condition (clean, no handwriting, no underlining, no highlighting) and [take] the box to the post office; you’ll have them in about a week. (Those of you who know that these are not idle words are free to leave testimonials to that effect below.)”

For background on this offer, please go here.

“The Story of Civilization”: Yours for a (yet undetermined) price.

One of this blog’s first posts was a tribute to Will Durant, the author (and beginning with Volume VII, co-author with wife Ariel) of The Story of Civilization.[1] I regret never having made the time to peruse every page of this series, unique in its high literary and esthetic quality, which more than compensates for the shortcomings that specialists have found reason to complain about. I no longer believe that the prospect of luxuriating in these volumes can compete with the urgent tasks that demand my attention.

I must part with these eleven tomes (1975 edition), pictured above, as I must with so many other books, asking something in return from visitors who have benefitted from what they’ve found on this site. Scholars who are still in their book-accumulation stage are my preferred customers for the contents of my library. So, do your research about what this set is going for elsewhere and then, if interested, make inquiry. If we come to terms, I will lovingly wrap and package them, which are in very good condition (clean, no handwriting, no underlining, no highlighting) and wheel the box to the post office; you’ll have them in about a week. (Those of you who know that these are not idle words are free to leave testimonials to that effect below.)

As I must accelerate the book-liquidation phase I’m in, you may expect more posts like this one in the near future.

Thank you for considering this offer. Whatever you think of it, at least have a(nother) look at that old post; it’s not half-bad.

Note

[1] “Will Durant: Fending off ‘the Reaper’ for almost a century,” November 20, 2028.

I really do have a lot of books in need of new custodians

In November of 2023, I spelled out my book problem. Since then a reminder has sat atop the right column of this site’s home page: “Books for Sale! Click and then scroll down to the list under the covers of the books I authored. If something interests you, ask me about it.”

The link will take you to a long but only partial listing of books available. Tell me your interests (philosophy, theology, history, politics, and so forth). You might be pleasantly surprised to see what this bookworm has lovingly curated over the past half-century. It can’t hurt to ask.

If you’re still in the book-treasuring stage of life, please use my contact page to tell me, generally or specifically, your areas of interest. If I have something you’re interested in, we can work out the terms and logistics.

It would be a shame for any of them to be trashed.

Your move.

Anthony G. Flood

“The Annotated Napkin”: a memento of Murray

The napkin on which Murray Rothbard sketched for me a diagram of an aspect of the structure of production on July 1, 1986, now on display at the Ludwig von Mises Institute.

Among the books I donated two years ago to the Ludwig von Mises Institute in Auburn, Alabama was my copy of Egalitarianism as a Revolt against Nature (Libertarian Review Press, 1974) the one that its author, Murray Rothbard, had given to me almost thirty years ago when we went out for dinner at Argo Coffee Shop, located at 90th Street and Broadway, Manhattan, just two blocks from his apartment building.[1] While elaborating on the intricate “latticework” (his metaphor) of a market economy’s production structure, he grabbed a napkin and diagrammed his insight on both sides of it.

Normally, a restaurant napkin wouldn’t last long, but this one had a different destiny. I tucked it inside my library’s newest acquisition, where it remained safe for 28 years until I sent it to Auburn.

Yesterday the Institute’s archivist made my day by sending me a photo of the napkin on display in a plexiglass case, noting that it’s “really enjoyed by our students and visitors.”) The exhibit label reads: “The Annotated Napkin, July 1, 1986, Murray N. Rothbard, Gift of Mr. Anthony Flood.”

Continue reading ““The Annotated Napkin”: a memento of Murray”

My book problem (no, not tsundoku) and a possible solution

Over the past fifty-plus years I’ve accumulated thousands of books promiscuously. The promiscuity must end, the piles liquidated.

Not all at once: there are still projects for which having certain volumes at the ready will be convenient, but most do not qualify for that use. (Even that I’ll be able to use any of them that way is, of course, not guaranteed.) If, however, “anything should happen to me” (pardon the euphemism), these wonderful volumes of philosophy, history, theology, politics, biography and so forth, lovingly curated by a bibliophile who loves the distinctive aroma of old paperbacks, will likely wind up in the trash.

I can no longer spare the time and energy to catalog every book and list it on, say, Amazon (something I did years ago for about a thousand books). It requires the seller to “jump” upon receiving a “Sold! Ship Now!” email and schedule a trip to the post office. In short, I have no desire to set up a formal used book business.  I will proceed more informally.

What I will do is append to my Portfolio a list of what I’m ready to part with. At first, and slowly, I will list only authors and titles. If an item catches a visitor’s eye, he or she can enquire via Contact Me about its physical condition and terms of sale.

No trusted third party will govern any transaction that might follow. For many of my visitors/subscribers, however, that will not be an issue. Perhaps they will be the only enquirers. Or maybe word-of-mouth will encourage a few others.

My interest is in seeing the books that I’ve enjoyed reading (and beholding) occupy someone’s else’s shelves. I have ever been only their temporary custodian. Each of them will, I hope, find another conservator.