A note from Heymans

Gerard Heymans(1857-1930) was a philosopher and psychologist. He established a psychological laboratory in Groningen only a decade after Wilhelm Wundt did, and thus became Hollands 'first psychologist'. He was author of numerous books, many of which were written in German first (the lingua france of his day), then translated into Dutch. His Einfuhrung in die Metaphysik appeared in 1905 and was translated into Duch only after his death. The copy of Inleiding in de metafysica that I purchased carried a note by Heymans to an unknown person, presumably the previous owner of the book. Heymans writes: "Groningen, 23 January 1921. Dear Sir, thank you very much for your kind writing, which much pleased me. Of course, the 'typical' developmental course need not apply to each individual person, but in your case it fits by and large quite well. Regrettably, at this time I cannot send you another photograph than one which appeared in a journal. I hope it satisfies you nonetheless. With kind regards, yours, G. Heymans." The photograph was missing. I have replaced it with a famous trick shot, in which Heymans appears 5 times.

Fragment of a whistleblower's record

Stuck between the pages of a book on student life during the German occupation (Studenten onder de bezetting), published in 1946, I found a carbon copy of what seems to be a fragment of a dossier, presumably kept by a whistleblower. The dossier records three specific incidents, dated January 26-31, 1952; Saturday February 2, 1952 and Friday February 15, 1952 respectively. The author of this document describes in detail incidents of misconduct of employees working in the stockroom of an unnamed company in the Dutch Indies. He (or she, but I assume it was male) notes how a certain numbers items (razorblades, key rings) went missing in January, and that a Mr Maigret, responsible for the stock, was unablke to explain for it. The same Mr. Maigret could also not account for hat happened to 12 missing flacons of Aux de Cologne 4711 No 7 on February 4, 1952. And finally, a scene is recorded involving a superintendent who was busy scooping sugar from a jar into a paper bag. Asked what he was doing, the man replied that he was ordered to do so by a certain Mr Claproth. "Why Mr Claproth would have a superintendent do this this and not he himself was beyond me. I have reported the incident to Mr Le Rutte and asked him to investigate it." Thus ends the report. It triggers one's imagination. What would have become of Mr. Maigret, Mr Claproth and the superintendent - and what of the author himself?

Reading as an act of resistance

In the spring of 1941, historian Johan Brouwer (1898-1943) publised Montigny, a study on Floris van Montmorency, count of Montigny, a diplomat who was send in 1566 to Filipe II, King of Spain, to negotiate over Dutch demands (Holland was ruled by the Spanish at this time). The count was captured, however, and quickly excecuted. Brouwer's biography of 'Montigny' came out a year into the German occupation of Holland and was meant to appeal to Dutch patriotism, says Brouwer's biographer Hendrik Henrichs. The copy of 'Montigny' that I purchased had a note glued to the interior. It reads: "Changeover every other Saturday, starting November 29 1941. You will bring the book to the person whose name follows yours." 19 names and adresses are then listed. Interestingly, a few passages in the book are expressly marked, including the following one on page 105. "It was just as ill-advised as it was unjustifiable to attempt to submit the Dutch with means of terrorism. The Dutch people could not be suppresed either with military terror or psychological force." Clearly, reading Montigny had a great symbolic value indeed.

Book marks

The orange one is quite old, presumably from the beginning of the 20th century (it came with a copy of August Forel, Der Hypnotismus), the other two are more recent, probably as recent as the 1970s. Neither tell us much about the previous owners or their preoccupation, they're just finds you are bound to encounter when you buy second hand books.

Nic Perquin

Although not as often as you might expect, from time to time I find newspaper clippings in second hand purchaces. This is a note on prof. N.C.A. Perquin, educationalist, upon his death in 1975. I found it in Perquins Memoires (Herinnering en overpeinzing). Perquin taught in Utrecht (from 1957-67) and was dean of the Hoogveld Institute at Nijmegen. A quiet, modest man, I was told.

A Family History

My aunt died last summer. From the things she left, I picked up a few books, one of which was written by her father, my grantfather, Cornelis Jan Guibal, a historian, who I never met. Folded inside Johan Willem Friso en zijn Tijd (a biography of J.W. Friso) was a one page document. It turned out to be a record of his family history, written by him. It starts in 1739 in Languedoc, France, when Francois Guibal, a Huguenot, moves to the Netherlands. It ends two centuries later, with the generation of his parents. My grantfather notes that with three males decendants, it seems reasonable to expect that the family name Guibla will continue to exist, at least for a while, even though he himself had three daughters. My aunt was the last of the three sisters.