By Jeremy Smith

'THERE ARE FOUR kinds of collectors," says John Windle, antiquarian bookseller. There are the Jackdaws, named after the bird attracted to bright and shiny objects; the Completists, who will spend 40 years and thousands of dollars obtaining every book ever written about, say, defenestration; the Peter Pans, who collect every book their mother ever read to them; and, finally, the Investors, who buy low and sell high.

Windle is part of a breed that is ... let's not say "dying," but rather, "transitioning." His distinguished John Windle Antiquarian Bookseller is a well-appointed bookshop housed in the old Western Union building at 49 Geary St. (Ste. 233, SF. 415-986-5826, www.johnwindle.com; appointments recommended). There were once five high-end antiquarian booksellers operating out of 49 Geary, also home to several commendable art galleries. Today, only Windle and the Brick Row Book Shop (Ste. 230, 415-398-0414, www.brickrow.com), owned by John Crichton, remain. According to Crichton, who is also president of the 450-member Antiquarian Booksellers' Association of America, demand for their services is decreasing.

Prior to the '80s, ardent book collectors continuously renewed the market. That trend began to shift, Crichton claims, when antique books came to be seen as investments by nouveau riche hedge-fund managers. Like houses in a hot real estate market, the books rapidly changed hands, a process that jacked up prices while pushing out collectors whose passions were not matched by their cash flow.

Even in the face of big-business commodification, however, book dealing retains its charm. Crichton, for example, has built a collection of 120 works of fiction set in Washington, DC, from 1824 to 1925, which features such titles as The Automobile Girls at Washington or Checkmating the Plots of Foreign Spies, which relays the automobile adventures of a group of young ladies. Windle's fascinatingly diverse collection includes a copy of Karl Marx's Das Kapital published in 1872 in St. Petersburg, Russia. This copy, the catalogue says, "was circulated among at least three ... intellectuals while they were in jail at different times." Its margins include extensive handwritten notes in Russian, English, and German. A week after I talked to Crichton, the historic communist critique of capitalism sold for $25,000.

If that sounds a bit beyond your price range, then head to the bookstores of 2141 Mission St. Your first stop will be the second floor (use the street-level doorbell to get buzzed in), where you'll find Valhalla Fine and Rare Books (Ste. 202, 415-863-9250). Owner Joe Marchione began acquiring books while employed as an airport shuttle driver; he'd steal time off the clock to browse antique stores. He now has his own wonderfully eccentric store with a sizable collection. The coffee's always on, and much of the stock runs under $50.

"At this price level," Marchione says, "you're not dealing with the same type of collector [as Windle or Crichton]. I see people with more of a passion for the content of the books. You have to have a fair amount of capital to be a high-end dealer. I'm just looking for things that intrigue me."

After Valhalla you'll find three other stores scattered around the building. There's Alan Milkerit's shop, Tall Stories (Ste. 301), specializing in modern first editions; Meyer Boswell Books (Ste. 302, 415-255-6400, www.meyerbos.com; appointments recommended), selling scholarly and antiquarian law books; and Bolerium Books (Ste. 300, 415-863-6353, www.bolerium.com), a treasure trove of books on left-wing social movements.

"Bolerium is one of the best sources of movement literature," says regular customer Chris Finn, a community activist and BART driver. "I come here to find out what's worked and what hasn't for people's movements." Bolerium is the kind of store where the ideal customer can roam for hours, finding such titles as the Cunt Coloring Book, by Tee Corine, as well as odd movement memorabilia, like the minutes for "Proposals for the 1966 National Convention" from the San Francisco chapter of the Daughters of Bilitus, a pioneering lesbian group.

Jackdaw, Completist, Peter Pan, or Investor – for any type of collector, Crichton argues, "the key is to find the right dealer" who will be your partner in pursuing your personal obsession. You don't have to be wealthy. Crichton says, "Some of the very best collections are built by people of modest means."