Encyclopedias that cost 250,000 pesetas and that nobody wants to buy today

Encyclopedias that cost 250,000 pesetas and that nobody wants to buy today

There was a time when an encyclopedia was a status symbol. In the eighties and nineties, middle-class families signed up for installment collections that cost the equivalent of several salaries. The Carroggio, the Espasa, the Salvat or the Larousse occupied a place of honor in the living room, next to the wooden bookcase that sometimes came included. Today, those same works sleep in boxes in village homes, and their owners face an uncomfortable question: throw them away, donate them, or wait for someone to value them?

The short answer is that nobody wants them. The long one is more interesting, because it reveals how not only access to knowledge has changed, but also our relationship with objects and with memory.

How much an encyclopedia cost and why it is now worth nothing

The case that started the discussion is representative: a Carroggio encyclopedia bought decades ago for 250,000 pesetas, when each volume sold for 10,000 pesetas or 60 euros. That outlay, which today would be equivalent to a mid-range car, was justified then because there was no alternative. The internet did not exist as a universal source and the Encyclopaedia Britannica or the Espasa were the gateway to serious knowledge.

Today, the second-hand market is ruthless. Listings on portals like Milanuncios or Wallapop offer complete sets for less than 20 euros, and even then they don't sell. Anyone trying to recover some of the investment runs into a reality: sentimental value does not translate into market value. Second-hand shops won't take them, and public libraries, saturated, won't either.

Donating an encyclopedia: why libraries say no

Donation seems like the dignified way out, but it doesn't always work. Librarians consulted in the discussion make it clear: an outdated encyclopedia takes up space and has no demand. "Public libraries rarely accept books at all, and encyclopedias under no circumstances," summarizes a participant who works in a school library. Another matter is weeding: some libraries put boxes of withdrawn books out on the street, and whoever wants them takes them. Treasures have appeared there, but also mountains of junk.

The alternative that does work, according to several accounts, is donating to secondary schools or to NGOs that send them to countries with fewer resources. It is not a mass solution, but it keeps them out of the bin.

The hidden value: data the internet has erased or rewritten

This is where it gets interesting. Several participants argue that these works have a value that is not measured in euros: they are a time capsule. According to a calculation circulating in the thread, a 1960s encyclopedia records that Spain was poorer than Chile until 1965, poorer than Argentina until 1975 and poorer than Venezuela until 1983. Another, from 1980, warned of imminent global cooling. These are data that today seem uncomfortable or downright implausible, and that no longer appear in digital sources.

The underlying argument is that the internet is not neutral. Wikipedia is useful, but anyone can edit it, and companies and celebrities have incentives to polish their entries. A printed encyclopedia, frozen in time, offers a version uncontaminated by marketing or later political correctness. "It has things unthinkable to find on Google unmanipulated," notes a participant who keeps his Larousse.

Keeping them as a refuge from an uncertain future

The most repeated position in the discussion is to keep them. Not out of nostalgia, but out of precaution. The scenario sketched is a future with restricted access to the network, whether through censorship, corporate control or collapse. In that context, a paper encyclopedia would be a source of independent knowledge. "The day will come when on the internet you will only read what you are allowed to read," warns one message.

Others take it to practical ground: if the village house has space, there is no urgency to get rid of them. They take up room, gather dust and are ugly, but they are also cheap insurance. The option of throwing them in the paper recycling bin, which some defend without drama, clashes with the idea that getting rid of printed knowledge is an act of cultural impoverishment.

What to do with an old encyclopedia: real options

The range of options is limited. Selling is almost impossible except as a decorative or collector's item, and at ridiculous prices. Donating to a library only works if it is a small center in need, something rare. Giving it away through free listings is a slow but real route. Recycling is the last option, and some defend it as the most ecological.

The conclusion that prevails is that there is no single solution. It depends on the space, the sentimental value and each person's view of the future of access to information. What is clear is that the market has spoken: an encyclopedia that cost 250,000 pesetas today is not worth the shipping costs.

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The discussion is not closed. While some throw them away volume by volume so as not to draw attention, others keep them as relics. Deep down, the question is not what to do with an encyclopedia, but what we want to preserve when everything is one click away.