Botanical Snow Storm in Montreal
We were both pretty set on our mission. The fact that a monster Spring snow-storm was in the early stages of dumping its avalanche onto the city meant little. We’d planned to hit the Renaissance used bookstores in Montreal, and nothing, not even a life-threatening post-Winter white-out was going to stop us. So, with warnings in both of Canada’s official languages blaring from the car radio, we took off, studiously, or stupidly, oblivious to the danger.
On the way my fearless companion Michel Gautier had to stop in at the Montreal Botanical Garden to meet with Anne Charpentier the new director, about a project he’s heading up called 2022: Year of the Garden. I planned to read a book in the cafeteria, assuming there was one, then we’d hit the shelves.
Fighting arctic conditions, we parked and walked over to the lobby of the art-deco complex. Michel introduced himself at reception. Anne was duly called, and Michel was accompanied to her office down a hallway. I looked for a cafe.
I’ve know Michel since the late 1980s when I was membership director at the Ottawa-Carleton Board of Trade and he was head of The Ottawa Tulip Festival (and prior to that Winterlude). We hit it off, but never became that close; until that is, about 10 years ago when he saw an article in The Ottawa Citizen about my launching Literary Tourist. He called up, invited me out for coffee, and told me that he was a crazy photography book collector.
He wasn’t joking. He has a huge collection. Whenever he travels anywhere on business he checks out all of the bookshops. Amsterdam, Paris, Beijing. Seoul.
I get shots of them wherever he goes. In fact, he has a frikin’ list of them all, right on his phone. He’s also developed an impressive database of all of his photobooks, complete with details on where he bought them, how much he paid, what they’re currently worth, and where they’re physically located.
I told him about Literary Tourist, my adventures interviewing book people, photographing bookshops, and collecting books myself. Yes, the ever-growing Biblio File podcast reference library featuring histories, biographies & memoirs of publishers, booksellers, book designers, plus related ephemera (book sales and collection catalogues for example).
A beauty from Faber & Faber, most probably designed by Berthold Wolpe.
Just to show you how good Michel’s collection is, I was planning to interview great photographer and collector Martin Parr for The Biblio File podcast, so I asked Michel if he had The Photobook: A History. Only two (of three) he apologized. But one’s signed! I was able to read the intros in advance of the interview thanks to Michel. You might like to listen to the conversation, here:
(And yes, Michel bought the third volume, directly from Martin, who signed it).
Since reuniting over the Citizen article, Michel and I have become pretty close - in the way bibliophiles do - getting out together as often as we can to cruise for books. I love having Michel along because when I arrive home I get to tell my wife Caroline that “Michel bought way more books than I did.” And it’s true. Every time. Michel, on the other hand, gets to tell his wife, Bernadette, that I’m the one to blame for him always getting home late. We have an excellent symbiotic relationship.
Not that long ago I interviewed Michel about his passion for photobooks. You can listen here:
Now, back to the story. After Michel disappeared down the corridor I headed off to look for a cafe. Damned if the first thing I didn’t see was a sign for a library.
I walked through the door to find myself standing in the middle of a little children’s area. On very short notice Steluta Ovesia the librarian
agreed to show me around. The collection is surprisingly comprehensive. Books on Quebec flora of course, with a number by the founder of the ‘Jardin’, Frère Marie-Victorin, a self-taught botanist, and the first chair of botany at Université de Montréal. Fifteen years after taking up this post he published Flore laurentienne (1935), an inventory of the plants of Québec. It contains detailed information on 1,917 specimens. The Frère believed that the more French Canadians knew about the land they inhabited, the more interested they’d be in taking ownership of it, their “natural birthright.” In addition to books on Quebec,
there are lots of reference guides here detailing the flora of all sorts of far-flung places, including Bikini
Britain
and Australia
plus there’s this incredibly large run of books on Chinese flora, a result of a cultural exchange of sorts between Sister Cities Shanghai and Montréal. One hopes that the current relationship between the two countries improves to a point where these kind of gestures of friendship can resume.
The highlight of the collection, however, is upstairs. Steluta showed me into a back room and there it was: an extensive run of Curtis's Botanical Magazines.
The magazine was launched in 1787 by William Curtis and is still going strong. In fact, it’s the world’s longest running, continuously published botanical periodical. It features detailed descriptions and beautiful accompanying original colour illustrations of plants executed over the centuries
by some of the world’s
most renowned botanical artists.
Before I knew it, Michel showed up. After he checked out the Curtises, we hit the slippery, snow-stacked road again. But not before I found myself reflecting on the fact that it really pays for the Literary Tourist to keep his eyes open when visiting gardens or galleries or small museums. Though one doesn’t ordinarily associate these places with libraries, you just never know when you might run into a gem.
On the walk back to the car we passed by the tower of The Big O (Owe) where Canadian Greg Joy took the Olympic silver medal in high-jumping in 1976.
So cool, white on white like that. And so what if it went over budget, the building looks great on the skyline. I think Mayor Drapeau was a book collector.
In the same complex as Olympic Stadium you’ll find a Biodome, and an Insectarium. Along with the Gardens, they pack a great one-two-three destination punch (note to self re: reflection above: must check to see if the first two have libraries!).
Our first stop after the Botanical Garden turned out to be our last. After ploughing into the thick pile of snow that covered our eventual parking spot we browsed the Renaissance shop close-by without much success, and so headed back to the car in anticipation of our next stop.
We couldn’t budge. The snow was now appreciable deeper. We ducked into a nearby depanneur and they gave us a shovel. Twenty minutes and a lot of rocking later we finally made it out. The roads were now really dangerous. Visibility was close to zero, so we reluctantly decided to pack it in.
Over subsequent months, as Spring sprang into Summer, Michel and I undertook numerous outings, to estate and library sales, and to various English and French bookstores in the Montreal area, including Le Livres Voyageur, on rue Belanger
The Horror.
all of the other Renaissance outlets (we particularly like the one on Decarie) and Terry Wescott’s,
which is still open despite a lot of recent moving around.
I’d say the book hunting in Montreal is pretty good. Great really, when you consider how often I get to do it with Michel. We’ve decided to hit the antique stores next, rain, snow, sleet, or hail (COVID regulations permitting of course).
For information about visiting Montreal, click here.
Nigel Beale works with cities and institutions around the world helping them to attract literary tourists. Contact him for details.
