Bob Rubin was one of the more astute of the generation of rare book dealers who worked during the late 20th and early 21st centuries. A longtime resident of Brookline, MA, Bob was a fixture in the New England book scene. After graduating from Bowdoin College in Maine he worked for a while at that nursery of New England book dealers, Gene Schwab’s Western Hemisphere Book Company, where he befriended other legendary dealers such as Mike Ginsburg, Henry Hurley, and Harold Burstein.
He went into business on his own in 1978, and it was just a year or two later that I met him, perhaps at the Cambridge or New Hampshire book fairs, but more likely in one of my shops, when he was out scouting books, possibly with our mutual friend Matthew Needle. Indeed, over the years he was largely associated with Matthew and Cheryl Needle and their circle of friends, including such notable dealers as Charles Wood, Scott Nason, the aforementioned Hurley, uber-dealer Steve Weissman, and academics such as Marcus McCorrison of the AAS. Oh, and Greg Gibson.
Bob came suddenly to mind a few weeks ago, when I was shopping the Paper Town ephemera show in Boxborough, Mass.
A dealer had a stack of 60 or 70 pages of late 18th or early 19th century manuscript that seemed to be a history of a particular aspect of the American Revolution, written by someone who had been present to the events he recorded. The question was – who was the author?
The likely answer is contained in a stack of email messages, printed out and added to the manuscript pages. They are a correspondence between Bob Rubin and Ellen Clark, who was at that time librarian of the Society of the Cincinnati, and gatekeeper for the beloved Mister Greer.
The emails reveal the depth of knowledge and scholarship both Bob and Ellen brought to their jobs, as well as Bob’s tireless search for the facts of the matter, rather than mere assertions or suppositions.
I bought it – how could I not? – initially as much for the email chain as for the manuscript itself. But the more I get into the manuscript, the more potential I believe it has. Bob was definitely on to something. I expect the manuscript, fully evaluated and priced, ought to surface in a catalog or at a book show this coming fall.
Meanwhile, it was wonderful to rub shoulders with Bob once again, even if only metaphorically, and to be reminded again of Ellen Clark’s lovely presence.
If only they could all be like Ellen and Bob.
Greg Gibson, Bob Rubin, Cheryl Needle, Matthew Needle, Charles Wood, Chelmsford, MA, 2014
Lovely remarks on two of the finest people around — in or out of the book world.
Thank you for a lovely reminder of a dear friend and mentor
I worked with Bob at Western Hemisphere during my two years there, and kept in touch for years after that. He was a tireless scouter of books, spent a lot of time on the road, often until late at night, and he bugged some of the Western Hemispherians because he’d often come in to the office late. But they never realized he hadn’t returned from a road trip to the outer reaches of New England until the wee hours, iften finding gems in the process.
He was a careful scholar, and loved music; and took Karen and me to a concert by Yo-Yo Ma when he was a Harvard undergrad. “You’ve got to hear this cellist!” he said. Right about that, and much else.