A Conversation with Gary Schrier

September 10, 2010 by Kathryn Mann in Resources

Recently Bear Graves sat down with preservationist and pundit, Gary B. Schrier of Briar Books Press:

A lot of authors mentally toy with the idea of writing professionally for years, sometimes even decades prior to sitting down at the keyboard and pounding with intent. In the broadest possible sense, is writing something that you have long been drawn to or was there an epiphany/matter of circumstance that triggered "the author within"?

Quite the latter, in fact, writing for money was never in the cards for me. I was destined for something much greater than to be a scribe, but as it turned out it was one of the few instances where my mother was wrong; I never realized her high hopes for me; so it came to be that I turned to vice, smoked expensive tobacco, and needed some fashion of economy to support it. I was never a natural at the art of writing; it came hard; still does. But no writer will tell you writing is easy; it's work. There is a difference, you know, between authoring and writing. Anyone can author; few can write well. Good writing takes great practice and a developed skill. My journey on the road to becoming a published author all began when I picked up my first calabash pipe at a Tacoma antique shop. Long story short, no definitive story on the pipe or its history existed; Antiquarian book seller Ben Rapaport told me that. I told him it needed to be done, and I was the man to do it. And I did it, realizing my goal some five years later with the printed release in 2006.

It's been my general observation that when a writer begins a project that involves an exhaustive amount of research on a topic of limited general interest, they are usually either PhD candidates or a writer that wants to create an in depth resource/reference. In both cases, the objective is to contribute something new to a given body of knowledge. When you first began work on History of the Calabash Pipe how much, if any, of your motivation was of a scholarly/posterity bent as opposed to simply offering a calabash enthusiast more information on that particular pipe?

I really don't remember what I was thinking when I began the calabash project. I suppose it began with some benevolent interest to strike out and begin some sort of discovery that would eventually lead to something printed with pictures that others would find interesting, that would answer questions they had about the gourd pipe from South Africa. The project was all consuming. My family knew what was going on and they put up with it, though they saw much less of me than they would have normally. Often times they told me to go away and write, other times they hated me for it. I think my wife and son deserve almost as much credit for the work as I do.

As time wore on with the "calabash", the project was all about me. The skills I developed to research, to write, and to publish, I was unwilling to share with anyone else out there who I thought might buy what would be a relatively expensive book, in fact, one of the most expensive ever to be printed for the hobby. So, in the end, I believe the one who received the greatest benefit and enjoyment from the book was me, as I think it should be for any author and his work. The fact that others have found it a worthwhile expenditure is all gravy.

Confessions of a Pipeman, which came out fairly quickly on the heels of History of the Calabash Pipe, and while still remaining within the pipe enthusiast milieu, couldn't have been more different than your premiere work. The subject moved from the most focused imaginable to as broad as the macro topic allowed, there was a greater humor, a more narrative, easy-going style. Indeed, when I read it, I often got the feeling of sitting down to have a sardonic chat with a pal, complete with a lot of shared irony and swipes at political correctness that are often part and parcel with those types of chats. Part of me has to wonder if the more scholarly, restrained type of writing on your first project bolstered the need to let loose with "Confessions"? Was "Confessions", in part, something of the writer's equivalent of Newton's Third Law; "For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction?" What factors played into "Confessions" being the immediate follow-up?

Confessions of a Pipeman, believe it or not, was cranked out within a year, though it was a much more difficult project to conceive of than the Calabash. And you are most insightful when you contrast the two works and how different the two styles of writing were. As I was searching for Confessions, I set goals for the project, more what I did not want to do than do. I did not want another five year project as I had with the Calabash. I did not want to hustle books if I was going to lose money at it. I did, indeed, want a broader appeal for my work. And I did not want to do something that had already been done, a regurgitated topic. But I needed to do something and fast. You see, I missed the Calabash; not that project but the daily routine. With the release of Calabash I was actually in withdrawals for close to two years because I was sans project. Confessions was my best discovery in recent years, and it has been most heartening to hear that many more people liked it than not. Confessions was the perfect "release" for my views on the hobby and lifestyle of the pipeman. In many ways, because of its broader appeal, I think it contributed more than Calabash ever did or could.

While, at least in my opinion, your latest release of About Smoke ... an Encyclopedia of Smoking, Fifth Edition, Alfred Dunhill Ltd, 1928 and upcoming release of the BBB Catalogue No. XX, Adolph Frankau & Co. Ltd., 1912 will be something of a must for serious collectors of the brands, as well as folks who have made our shared passion something of an avocation, what do you think the more casual smoker will draw from the books? Why would a person who simply enjoys the bowl and weed want to own these types of references?

I am certain that most pipemen, particularly those who accumulate and collect tobacciana, have an interest in old stuff and origins. We're an inquisitive lot, aren't we? What little commercial literature generated by the pipe trade these last 150 years of bruyere's existence, is where it should be, as where most ephemera should be, in the landfill. Nevertheless, there were a handful of efforts--of the English firms--that exhibited a level of understanding, creativity, and marketing flair that separated them from their competition. (There was an American firm that rivaled their Old World cousins in such endeavors as sales catalogues go, and that would be from the firm who made the Kaywoodie brand, S. M. Frank Company of New York.) The catalogues I have reproduced form what I have marketed as a trilogy of the classics. The first being Dunhill's 1928 About Smoke, Fifth Edition. The second is Adolph Frankau & Co. Ltd.'s 1912 BBB Catalogue No. XX that you mentioned. And finally the third, which will be at the printer by year's end, is a compilation of early twentieth century Loewe & Co. publications. All of these difficult to find and rare publications are huge as pipe ephemera go, ranging in size from 100 to 450 pages! As equally impressive to size is scope. Briar pipes aren't that old, and these catalogues are very close to its origins, the classic shapes mostly being turned out from the London factories of the day. Whether or not you care for a straight or bent English shape, these catalogues are a period delight in the way society favored the pipeman--and pipewoman!--and educates casual and inveterate smoker equally to why things are the way they are. The real pipeman should be grounded in such matters because beyond knowledge there is only the humdrum day-to-day.

If you'll forgive a long preamble and something of a left field observation? Any modern historian worth his salt wishes that more people had run into the Library of Alexandria, on the advent of its destruction, and salvaged more of the scrolls and irreplaceable knowledge that soon became utterly irretrievable. While I won't attempt a direct comparison to the contents of that largest and most famous ancient library, speaking for at least quite a few folks in my office, myself included, there is a shared feeling of gratitude for your release of the Dunhill book and the upcoming BBB catalog. So much of the definitive pipe and tobacco information of by-gone eras has already been lost, or is on the precipice of the same. It would appear, even if on a much smaller scale, that you are the pipe enthusiast's "man on the scene at Alexandria". Are there any other catalogs or references in the works, or are your days as a "voluntary fireman" over?

Truthfully, I have found that there are others in Hobbyland who share your view, and it was wholly unexpected. But this how it turned out. As I mentioned earlier, my current project is Loewe & Co. As close as can be ascertained at this time, Loewe was the first pipe company to fabricate and popularize a pipe made from briar root in England and around the world. It is a most ambitious project for me and one the likes of which pipemen will have never before seen. Still, I am looking beyond the Loewe project. Some within reach have come forth with ideas and material that I am most grateful for, but I have not committed to anything. That said, I am working diligently with an Englishman, late in years and retired from a pipe-making firm, who has befriended me, and who is working diligently behind the scenes to secure a title I hope to be able to release at next Christmas. If I get the material I believe I will have outdone myself.