Ox-gall.

I've spent quite a large portion of the morning reading a book about marbling paper. it's not as simple as I had thought - sort of swirlng the colours around on a wet piece of paper as for Steiner veil painting won't do it at all! Although in the 12th century the Japanese did it with paint drop onto clear water, adding a drop of colour, waiting for it to spread, dropping another colour into the centre and adding different colours into the concentric cirles until the desired combination was reached then pulling a slightly greasey human hair or a chop-stick through it. The paper is lowered onto the surface and withdrawn carefully with the imprint remaining. Each paper has to be done separately of course. This method is still used in Japan. Painstaking stuff. In Persia in the 15th Century gum tragacanth was used to make a size and the bile of the ox - ox gall - used to break up the viscosity of the size. Later they used egg white. In the 19th century a Budhapest marbler discovered that carragheen moss made a good size and his method became widely used. Different amounts of gall dripped into the size are needed for different colours, even an extra drop making a difference.

It sounds extremely complicated and I have much more respect for marbled end-papers than I had before. There was even a book published by an early C19 German marbler, Franz Weiss, called ' Mein Kampf mit der Ochsengalle.' Which means what it sounds as if it means!! A customer has just told me he knows someone local who does it - a Swiss lady. Well well.

And I have finally sold two books, both Folio Society, to a lady who thinks books might be a better investment than banks at the moment. She also obvioulsy loves them, doesn't have too much cash to spare and wanted to buy the half leather limited ed. Gullivers Travels but her husband was dragging his feet a bit. So, not a big sale but a pleasant interlude. Then a chap rang from the Shetland Isles. I had sold him a book on Amazon - a 1st of 'The Grey Gentlemen' by Michael Ende. He wanted a complete Edward Lear which, oh joy! I could tell him I have so a cheque will follow. Still, not an especially fiscally impressive score yet today.