Geography Reference
In-Depth Information
Despite the gloomy predictions of some dealers, the map trade didn't collapse with
Forbes Smiley's downfall. Even in a major recession, sales have been strong and prices
have stayed high. The antiquarian world, having lost its innocence, has begun to take pre-
cautions: libraries are keeping a closer eye on patrons, and dealers and auction houses are
becoming more inquisitive about the provenance of the items they buy. For many years,
“tomeraiders”likeSmileyweretacitlyabettedbytheirvictims—institutionswerereluctant
to report missing items, since the security lapses were embarrassing and might discourage
future donors while encouraging future thieves. That's now starting to change. Map librar-
ians share more information on losses as they happen, so that dealers and auction houses
knowtobeonthelookoutforspecificmissingitems,astheartworldhasdonefordecades.
But there's still no central online index of thefts and no map dealer who requires proof of
title every time a map is offered for sale.
As much as I love maps, I've never felt the need to possess them. I understand the com-
pletist instinct of the collector, but I've always regarded maps as a kind of public utility.
Like a nice sunset, I can look at one without wanting to take it home. But the recent crime
wave in cartography demonstrates that maps do exert that kind of pull over many, many
people. Not every map thief is a Forbes Smiley, stealing big-ticket items and quickly re-
selling for fear of losing a cabin on Martha's Vineyard. Many just see a beautiful map and
have to have it
.Myfavorite case is that of
Farhad Hakimzadeh
,a wealthy London publish-
ersenttoprisonin2009forscalpelinghundredsofthousandsofdollars'worthofmapsand
illustrations out of rare books in London and Oxford libraries. He had no plans to resell,
he told the court—he was just deeply attached to his collection and couldn't help wanting
to improve it. He testified that, on his wedding night, he even kept his new bride waiting
in bed while he polished the covers of his beloved rare books. Perhaps she misunderstood
when he warned her he was into “leather binding.”
Theworld'smostdistinguishedcollectorsofmapsmaykeeptheirtreasuresveryprivate,
but luckily for me there's a second tier filling out map societies around the world: the gar-
rulous amateur enthusiasts. Leonard Rothman, a longtime Annapolis gynecologist who re-
tired to California a decade ago, is one of them. “I love to expound,” he says as he wel-
comes me into his thirty-first-floor condo in San Francisco's posh Russian Hill neighbor-
hood. “I'm not allowed to mention maps when we have people over. I get in trouble.” In
fact,hecan'thelptalkingabouteverymapwepassaswewalkacrossthePersianrugsinhis
entry-way. The vignette on this John Tallis map is supposed to be a giraffe, but clearly the
engraverwasworkingfromvaguesecondhanddescriptions—itlooksmorelikeakangaroo
with a bad case of acne. The outline color on that map—rust and teal, like two-strip Tech-
nicolor—isadeadgiveawayastoitsGermanorigins,andyoucaneventellhowolditisby
howthepigmentshaveoxidized.Acabinetholdspartofacollectionofalmostonehundred
