First published to help children make sense of the world around them, Observer's Books have since become prized relics of the last century. By Reverend Steven Morris
In 1937, Warne & Co published The Observer’s Book of British Birds.
It was a modest affair but an interesting idea; a book for children (although also accessible to adults) that could be easily carried, to help them make the most of the outdoors. Over the next 66 years, a series of 98 were published (and often republished in slightly updated editions). The subjects are as diverse as fungi, jazz and astronomy (authored by Patrick Moore).
Today they are highly collectable, with the most valuable (a black-and-white covered edition of Common Fungi) going for £400. But you can build up a healthy collection paying not much more than a couple of pounds for each of these little time capsules.
From that first book, Warne began churning out more, to begin with in dust jackets, and later as laminated hardbacks. The story ended in 2003, with the publication that year of The Observer’s Book of Wayside and Woodland.
Some of the titles were a bit odd – Folk Song in Britain seems a strange choice for children. Paris was just a series of street maps. Eventually the series ran out of steam; one dud, the World Atlas, sold poorly and was eventually pulped.
The bestseller was that first one, British Birds. The numbers are astounding. It sold over 65,000 copies in the 1930s, rising to 870,000 in the ’50s and over a million in the ’60s. Even in the ’70s, it sold over 700,000 copies. The books also played a part in the war effort. Airplanes (sic) was produced during the Second World War to help people identify enemy aircraft.
What we have left are the collectors. Richard Fuller, Secretary of The Observer’s Pocket Series Collectors Society, tells me there has been an upturn in interest in the books. Younger people want them because they have that retro feel, with their brown, red and mustard spines and period fonts. Older people love them because they remind them of their childhood – and they really are very well put together.
There is something profound and touching about these little books. They come from an age when we weren’t overwhelmed by information and internet searches. They are solid and speak of healthy pursuits – walking, bird-watching, crafts and hobbies. They also played a part in defining a nation’s interests and priorities.
I wonder if we had only the 100 Observer’s Books and no other information source what we would make of the world. Would it be one-dimensional? I don’t think so. And if they started again (Penguin have the rights), what might we see? The Observer’s Book of Mobile Phones, Internet Searches or Cosmetic Procedures?
Richard Fuller has led the Collectors Society for ten years, collecting for 25. His collection numbers 500 and is missing only four for the complete set. It could drive him mad, but it doesn’t. The joy is in the hunt.
They are out there somewhere.
