This will not be a comprehensive discussion of King Koko. I do, however, want to talk about certain aspects of the book from a bibliographer’s point of view (and from that of a book collector). The first edition was published in late 1904. (The Saturday Review for November 19, 1904, lists the book under the heading “This Week’s Books,” in the “Christmas Books” category. The Academy and Literature for the same date lists it under “New Books Received,” in the “Juvenile” category.)
I tend to think that the book was doomed ab initio by its title. To most people, the term “King Koko” means less than nothing. Back in 1904 and 1905, I imagine the situation was the same. There was a King Koko of Nembe, and it seems possible (or even likely) that Hoffmann thought it would be fun to use that name for one of his characters and for the title of the book.
But even if people were aware of who the “real” King Koko was, the short-title King Koko doesn’t demonstrate what the book is about. The most manageable version of a longer title would be King Koko or the Pretty Princess and the Lucky Lover. That, too, says nothing about the true nature of the book, and if anything, it is misleading. The book’s principal audience consisted of magicians, or would-be magicians, and the title told that audience little or nothing.
I suppose it is a matter of taste, whether or not to include the following additional lines (from the title page) as part of the full title of King Koko: “A Conjuring Entertainment in the Form of a Fairy Tale,” and if you are going that far, you may as well toss in the additional phrase, “With Practical Instructions.” That last phrase is the first indication of what the book is about.
When compared to the titles of all of Hoffmann’s other books, King Koko does less than any other to indicate what the book is about. It is a far cry from titles like Modern Magic, More Magic, and Later Magic, as well as titles like Tricks With Cards: A Complete Manual of Card Conjuring.
In any event, the main thing I want to focus on at the moment regarding King Koko is the situation with regard to what one might call the London version and the Australian version. By far the most widely known version of the book is the London version. The earliest reference (of which I am aware) to the Australian version is on page 65 of J.B. Findlay’s and my 1977 book, Professor Hoffmann: A Study, where we listed the book as follows:
King Koko. Sydney and Melbourne (Will Andrade), 1905. Wrappers. The date of 1905 is on the front cover, while the title page carries the date of 1904.
Findlay had sent me a photocopy of the front cover of the Australia version. I’m not certain, but that photocopy might have been supplied to Findlay by Leslie R. Cole.
I just checked my 1983 Professor Hoffmann: A Bibliography, and I do not see any reference to an Australian version of King Koko. I went further and even included King Koko in a listing of books as to which I was unaware of any variants of the first edition. At that time, I suppose that (for some reason) I didn’t consider that Australian version to be part of the first edition.
I don’t want to get into an in-depth discussion of “editions,” “impressions,” “issues,” “states,” and “variants” in connection with this book, though I did get into those topics rather heavily (not with regard to King Koko) in my Victorian-Age Conjuring Books: A Guide for Collectors and Bibliographers, which is now in its third edition, and I do think that is a useful book. But I’ll say a few words, which are necessary to the current discussion. As mentioned, I probably assumed that the Australian book could not be considered a first edition, but as discussed below, from what I now know, it is indeed a variant of the first edition, but still a first edition.
To a book collector, the main question (in determining whether a book is a first edition) is this: Was the book part of the first printing? If it was, it’s a first edition. If it wasn’t, it’s not. (There can easily be variants among the examples of the first edition, and some might be far more desirable than others.)
But we are talking about King Koko. To the best of my understanding, there is only one edition of King Koko. And it’s the one printed in London in late 1904, period. (I’m not talking about relatively recent printings, of which there may be some, since so many old books have been reprinted in recent decades.)
But then why the Australian version? How did that come about?
My assumption (in the absence of evidence to the contrary) is that Chatto & Windus did not have all copies of the book bound initially. This would not be an unusual circumstance. My further assumption is that the book did not sell well, and that Chatto & Windus were essentially stuck with a number of copies of the book that had very little monetary value to them. I don’t know a lot about Will Andrade, the publisher of King Koko in Australia, but it appears to me that something like this happened: He bought some unbound copies of King Koko. Then he had them bound in Australia.
Simple. (Sort of.)
Anyway, Raymond Ricard possesses a copy of each version (very nice copies, I might add), and on August 12, 2022, he posted a post on the New England Magic Collectors Association group page regarding the two books. It includes many photographs, depicting both books and showing a pretty clear picture of the differences between the two books.
The London version is bound (“cased”) in cloth, or I might say cloth-covered boards, and it has a protective tissue between the frontispiece and the title page. Toward the rear of the book a Hamley’s advertisement faces a Chatto & Windus catalog.
The Sydney and Melbourne version looks to have a cover of card stock or the like, which in turn is covered with paper which bears title and author information, along with publisher information (Will Andrade’s name, along with addresses in Sydney and Melbourne), and other components, including the 1905 date. The back cover has Will Andrade advertising. It has no protective tissue and no Chatto & Windus catalog.
Here is a link to Ray’s post: NEMCA Facebook page.
You can see that Andrade maintained the original title-page, showing Chatto & Windus as the publisher and the year 1904.
So, if the Andrade version is not a different edition (such as a revised second edition), and it’s not a different printing, then what is it? Well, as frequently occurs in book-collecting, the answer is a little difficult. I suppose that you can say that it represents a second “state” of the binding, but to me that seems like a side-issue. It’s easier and more understandable to say, “Wow, the covers are different on this one.” (I haven’t defined “state,” but one of the principal authorities, Fredson Bowers, in his Principles of Bibliographical Description, states that all variations in bindings are states.)
But again, what can we reasonably call the Andrade version? It should be clear from the above that there is no evidence that it is a different “edition” from the London edition, even under the highly limiting definition of the book collector. The text wasn’t revised, and the type wasn’t even reset. And it’s pretty reasonable to assume that the Andrade copies were printed basically at the same time as the London copies.
Interestingly, the Andrade copies may have been printed before any of the Chatto & Windus copies. But in general, it is difficult if not impossible to say that “this copy was printed earlier than that copy,” in part because the printer normally has no reason to care and has no records regarding the sequence. Even more vexing is the fact that a book could, and often would, contain gatherings printed early in the printing process and others printed late in the process.
Well, it is a little bit of a gray area, but I am inclined to say that the Andrade version is the second issue. One of the key points is that a an issue involves what Fredson Bowers calls “an order from the publishers for a definite effort in publication.” Yes, the publishers have changed. And yes, there is mainly a binding change, as opposed to an internal text change. And the title page has remained the same—while Bowers almost requires a title-page change, at a minimum. But others have not been as rigid as Bowers. All things considered, I think it is fair to call the Andrade book a new issue. But it is likely a first printing, and a desirable one!
—Tom Sawyer
July 24, 2023
The Armchair Bibliographer 