Tuesday, May 05, 2026

In November 2025 I wrote a Marginal Note entitled ‘Mentors matter’, in which I mentioned, without detail, an English bookseller who played an important role in my development as a bookseller. Recently, when spending some time revisiting books in my library at home I came across a copy of a festschrift published to celebrate the late  Anthony Rota’s seventieth birthday in 2002. I was invited to contribute to the publication in my then role as president of the International League of Antiquarian Booksellers. Rather than rewrite the reasons why Anthony was so important to me, not only as a friend, but also as a mentor, I am sharing my 2002 tribute to him in this month’s Marginal Note:

 

It is June 10, 2001, and I am two hours into the twenty-four hour flight home to Melbourne. I am returning after a week in London for meetings of the International League of Antiquarian Booksellers. Four days ago Anthony Rota attended the ILAB Committee meeting in his role as one of the League’s Presidents-of-Honour. Two nights ago I enjoyed a memorable dinner with Jean and Anthony, during which time I surreptitiously told Jean that I would be honoured to contribute to Anthony’s Festschrift. Now my mind is overflowing with the week’s events and is also haunted by the realization that I only have a short time in which to write my tribute to Anthony. Ignoring the inflight movies, and the latest novels that I had bought to help me through the long flight, I flick through the day’s Sunday Times Magazine. The centre spread is devoted to an article on The Sunday Times Hay Festival, and as I read  about the writers and celebrities who had gathered in Hay-on-Wye my mind is jolted back three decades.

 

It was May 12, 1971, and I was on my way to Europe for the first time. I was a nervous, insecure 25-year old Australian bookseller of just six years experience, armed with a return air ticket, a small budget for buying books, and three invitations. The first of these was to visit Reg Longden, a collector and book dealer who had once represented Sotheby’s in Australia, the second was to afternoon tea with the Australian High Commissioner in London, W. R. Cummings, and the third was to visit Richard Booth in Hay-on-Wye. Each of these people was pivotal in providing links to important events in my life.

 

Included amongst my reading matter for the long flight were several catalogues of private press books issued by Bertram Rota Ltd. These had been given to me by my friend, the talented, fey Irish bookman, Richard Griffin, who had enjoyed a somewhat checkered history as a customer of theirs. By journey’s end I had marked up so many items of interest in the Rota catalogues that, even if only a quarter of them were available, my whole buying budget would disappear in a visit to just one bookshop.

 

My introduction to the English book trade was as tough, and as good, as I had been led to expect by a much-respected Australian colleague, Margaret Woodhouse. She told me that I had three things against my acceptance by the established, male-dominated, London book trade: I was young, female and an Australian. I was soon to learn of a fourth obstacle: I was not a member of the Antiquarian Booksellers’ Association (International). Margaret also gave me some positive advice: “If they take any notice of you enjoy it, but if not, just look at the books and go on your way. Don’t buy anything you don’t want just to please them. They will sum you up and if they think you will be a customer they will let you into their secret rooms, if not they won’t.” She kindly suggested that “a lot of them are probably terribly shy”. Margaret also taught me that when overseas, in a very small way, I would be an ambassador for Australia and that our country is judged on the Australians that people meet in other countries. Her predictions came true in every sense, and during the first week in London I experienced all the disinterest and contempt that she had warned me of. I lost all courage to visit the well-known bookshops, including Bertram Rota’s, in case their treatment of me was the same. 

 

Guessing that a weekend trip out of London would restore my spirit, Reg Longden arranged for me to visit some friends of his in Tunbridge Wells. He also gave me introductions to two booksellers, Miss Elizabeth Bateman of Hall’s Bookshop, and Mr. Percy Dobell. Mr. Dobell was a very quiet, shy, courteous man from whom I bought some good books. It was, however, Miss Bateman who offered the first sign of generosity and encouragement to an inexperienced young bookseller from the Antipodes. As my diary records, she took me to afternoon tea in a lovely tearoom in the Pantiles. After gently coaxing out my story of trials and tribulations with the London trade she offered to post the books I had bought to Reg Longden’s packer, “as a gesture to make up for the rude booksellers in London”. She also advised me to go straight to the bigger booksellers, as they were more likely to have the books I wanted and would be more interesting to meet – particularly Bertram Rota.

 

The following Monday I found my way to Saville Row and, according to my diary, met Bertram Rota. Of course, it was in fact Anthony Rota who greeted me so kindly and who treated me as though I was a worthwhile colleague and valued customer. Now, thirty years later, I am privileged to pay tribute to this man I count as a true friend, whom I not only respect and admire as a fine bookseller and teacher, but to whom I also attribute an important role in my own quiet achievements in the book trade.

 

New generations of booksellers not only need, but also actually deserve, the opportunity of learning the traditions and ethics of bookselling from a mentor like Anthony Rota, someone who can recognize raw young talent as the future of our trade. Over the years, Anthony has been rock-like in his support of my career, which reached its peak in September 2000 when I was elected sixteenth President of the International League of Antiquarian Booksellers. Thank you, Anthony, for giving me such great encouragement and sound counsel, and for inspiring me to try to do the same, albeit in a distinctly Australian way, for others. 

 

Kay Craddock

President

International League of Antiquarian Booksellers

Ligue Internationale de la Librairie Ancienne