Every year, Chicago is home to several large book fairs, most notably in Printers Row and the Newberry Library. For the consumer, these fairs are usually great for finding inexpensive deals on paperbacks and occasionally a good deal on a rare or collectable book. When I attended the Midwest Antiquarian Booksellers Association 22nd Annual Book Fair this past Sunday, I discovered an entirely different species of book fair.

The first difference I noticed was the entrance fee, which was $6 for adults and $4 for students (or those who could reasonably pass themselves off as students). This is not all that uncommon. I know that many fairs, like the Brandies Book Fair in Skokie, charge a fee to get in a day early.

The second thing I noticed was the selection, which was much narrower than I expected but was, of course, of a much higher general quality. It was immediately clear that this is a place for mint-condition, first edition, signed-by-the-author, sealed-in-air-tight-plastic type books. In this way it was not unlike a museum experience. In fact, several booksellers kept their most prized items in shallow wood cases covered in glass.

The last thing I noticed was the price of these books which I found to be, at times, jaw-dropping. Now to be fair, some of this stuff was extremely rare. Any guess how much a first American edition (1 of 504 printed) of James Joyce’s The Dubliners costs? For me, five months rent. For all I know, $2500 is a steal for something like this but for the average joe, it’s just out of the question. Obviously, this was an extreme case. Most of the books, or at least the books that I am interested in, were good quality, first edition hardcovers. I didn’t really check out any of the leather-bound military history behemoths that were around. Maybe I should have.

At this point in my book collecting career I am only interested in books that I will actually read or books that I have read and I liked so much that I wouldn’t mind owning a nice copy. So as I walked around, I would find an occasional Paul Auster, or Don Delillo, and I would flip open the beautifully preserved cover and find a price, either penciled on the first page or on a small sticker, that was usually between $75 and $85 but could be $125 or and if signed easily over $200. The only thing that I found that was near my price range was a copy of William T. Vollman’s Whores for Gloria for $40 but even that I decided against.

One book that really tempted me was a first edition of Ishmael Reed’s Mumbo-Jumbo, a book that I really love. The cover art on this edition is that sort of early-seventies, dada-esque design that I am just a huge sucker for. I was disappointed to see that it was $75. I remember thinking, can I actually spend this much on a book? I was tempted. I decided to mull it over while I roamed through the rest of the booths. The big questions being: What would I do with such a book? Would I dare read it? Would it just sit on my bookshelf until I die and my grandkids sell it to buy their new fangled jet-packs? However, the real question, and perhaps more philosophical question, is ‘What is the value of a book beyond its words?’

In general, I am a proponent of the books as object theory, which is to say that I enjoy books as physical entities in addition to their contents. For some reason, this becomes harder to justify when the price of a book rises to a certain level. Part of this crisis stems from a feeling that the prices of some of these books feels suspiciously arbitrary. This is similar to the feeling I have about the stock market. What something is worth seems to be based on rumors and gossip and shadowy algorithms I don’t understand. I was slightly concerned that I would go home and find the same book for much less on Alibris or Abebooks.

Anyway, before I left the fair I circled back to take another look the book. Yes, it was a great book in nearly mint condition but I just couldn’t do it. I would say a majority of the buyers and sellers were white men nearing or surpassing retirement age. Perhaps these people have the extra dough to shell out for pricey books but I would say most of us don’t. That said, visiting the fair was a good time and four bucks well spent.

[Note: When I did check the price of similar books online, it turned out that $75 was relatively fair.]

[Hypocritical afterthought: all of this makes less sense when I consider that I probably will have no problem spending $75 on Alan Moore’s new book.]