Auctions

First published in Column 8 on the 11^th Sept 1991

If you want some free entertainment in these recessive days, leave your credit cards, cheque book and cash at home and go to an auction.

I recommend it to anyone who wants to relax and let the world go by, to keep the blood flowing at an even pace, and to avoid cluttering his/her brain with excess thoughts.

You’ll probably even be able to sit down and enjoy the show – until they sell the chair from underneath you.

I enjoy auctions for all sort of reasons – not least because I don’t have to buy anything, and no pushy salesman tries to make me.

But there’s far more to it than just being able to leave your worldly wealth at home.

The people who frequent auctions are a treat in themselves. Yes, you’ll get ordinary people, because those sort of people will sneak in anywhere, but for the most part, auction-going people are in a class of their own. And the classes are different at different sorts of auctions.

Some sample specimens.

You’ll always get the bargain hunters, who want lots of the items going, but who aren’t prepared to part out more than a little of their life savings. The result of these people participating must delight most auctioneers.

They’re always first in at the bidding, which immediately hikes up the price, and for a bit they’ll nod or flick their finger or wave their numbered bat. Then suddenly they’ll give up. They’ve reached their own personal reserve, you see, and the person bidding against them is left to pay far more than they thought the lot was really worth.

Occasionally the bargain-hunter will actually purchase something, and occasionally they’ll get caught with something they only half had their heart set on. Otherwise they’re merely in it for the thrill.

You’ll also see the dealers. It’s a bit like a social gathering for them.

They’re so well known to the auctioneers that they don’t even have to give their names: they just raise their eyebrows a little and the auctioneers know exactly what they mean.

Most of the time the dealers feign indifference to the whole proceedings, as though they’d sooner be back at the shop dusting off the stuff they haven’t been able to sell since 1965.

In another class are the collectors (you’ll find more of them at the antique auctions.) They’ll pretend that they’re not in the least interested in anything in the room, in case someone decides to bid against them.

As collectors they’re prepared to pay the earth for all manner of things that to you and me seem trivia, but naturally they don’t want to pay the earth.

When they’re eyes aren’t flickering over possible purchases, the collectors have a faraway look as though they were thinking about anything but where they’re at. In fact they’re considering whether the credit card can possible be squeezed a little further, or whether the increasingly less friendly bank manager will extend the overdraft.

And finally the auctioneer, that man of craft, who knows just when a bid can extend another $2 and when it can go $200. He’ll make an occasional joke, but not many, and he’ll never try to ‘sell’ anything.

But when two determined people bid against each other for the same lot, and raise its value far above what either of them would ever pay under any other circumstance, watch out for the twinkle in his eye.

Science fiction auction in Stockholm
courtesy Johan Jönsson (Julle)