Press Room

Bare Bones: Berkeley Natural History Store Celebrates Remains of the Day

Jennifer Carnig - STAFF WRITER
The Oakland Tribune

October 2, 2002

Ron Cauble is a self-proclaimed eccentric. "Wanna see something really perverted?," Cauble asks beneath a mess of gray hair before emptying out a plastic bag containing four thin bones. They're each about the size of a coffee stirrer, but they have a knot in the middle. "They're penis bones - raccoon penis bones," he says, trying to contain a smile. "Broken ones. You can see where they healed."

He'll sell them each for $35. Usually they go for around $3, Cauble says, but since they were broken, they're worth more.

"People collect those kinds of things," he says, obviously amused. "I have one 75-year-old lady ... who collects those from walruses - and those are about the size of a small baseball bat."

Yes, the 62-year-old is weird. But he's not running a fetish shop. Cauble owns a Berkeley natural history store, aptly named The Bone Room

A cluttered collection of bones, books and bugs tucked among Solano Avenue's trendy boutiques and cafes, The Bone Room is nothing short of a spectacle.

A freeze-dried adolescent beaver greets passers-by in the shop's front window, but the furry little rascal doesn't even hint at the treasures to be found inside

The store is almost alive with bones. A 4-foot-tall camel skull and neck seem to grow from the front counter. A full wallaby skeleton stands behind that. Various horns and hooves lie in piles all over the floor, and a walrus skull with shiny tusks the size of a grown man's arms is perched on a loft.

Drawers crowded with everything from fossilized dinosaur toes to African beetles bigger than baseballs line the walls, and above them hang embalmed insects, mounted and framed like priceless pieces of art

If the place seems like it's seething and breathing, that's because it is - the chirping of crickets provides The Bone Room's background music. Cauble sells reptile food in addition to the sun-bleached ribs, fingers and teeth. A live 13-foot python the color of lemon meringue lives in a terrarium in the back.

But none of Cauble's collections even comes close to garnering as much attention as one very special category - human remains. Cauble says he owns one of only three stores in the country that deals in human bones. He just got a shipment of 21 skulls from China, and three full skeletons hang proudly on display.

"And no, they're not magical or mystical," Cauble says. "There are no devil worshipers or cultists buying them. We don't even get Goths - they're traditionally dirt poor."

Instead, the skulls and skeletons are mostly sold to medical schools, teachers and artists, Cauble says, adding that he just sent 20 to an artist in New York who is working on a Sept. 11-inspired piece.

The top skull specimen in the Chinese batch went for $400, while a toothless one starts at $200. But in a higher-end collection, skulls can fetch as much as $600. Skeletons go for between $2,000 and $3,000, depending on their condition and age. Clavicles sell for $20, hands for $100 and pelvises for $175.

"Owning human bones is not illegal," Cauble says, explaining that he buys all of his bones through legal means and that the Chinese government said his latest collection of bones was sold with the permission of the deceased's relatives.

But Cauble says there's only so much he can do to make sure the seller is legit.

"All I can do is believe them. I'm a small business owner. I don't have the means to do any more investigation than that."

He adds that most salesmen don't investigate where their goods come from, either. If he sold pottery, for example, would he have to go to Mexico to make sure the art wasn't made by prison inmates?

Still, the selling of human bones does raise a lot of ethical questions, says John Rick, chair of Stanford's anthropological sciences department.

"My archaeological ethics that I subscribe to won't allow me to participate in any valuation of (human remains), so a business based on that is a little bit questionable in its very essence," Rick says. "I find the whole thing a little bit weird."

But Rick adds that there is nothing absolute when dealing with archaeological ethics. In some cultures, bones are totally sacred objects that should never be violated, while in others they are totally casual - not containing any essence of the human from which they came. "So it's hard to say sometimes what's OK and what's not."

He cautions, though, that it's "a small step from human bones to ancient bones." A huge segment of archaeological remains in the world have been destroyed by people just looking to make a buck. "It's an incredibly gray and complex area."

But Cauble sees nothing at all questionable about his business and instead points to the unique service that it provides. Above all, The Bone Room is "an educational institution."

"You'll get your questions answered here," Cauble says. "I'll tell you what it is, I'll tell you what the laws are around it and I'll do it for free. (The Bone Room) is better than a museum in some ways because there are always people here happy to answer any questions you have. It's a place of education and a place of knowledge."

And it was that interest in learning and teaching that prompted Cauble to open the store. A former rocket scientist with a doctorate in chemistry, Cauble says his "field died out right when I got there."

His second love was animals, so in 1970 he opened the East Bay Vivarium, one of the country's biggest reptile stores. An amateur archaeologist, Cauble turned one of the Vivarium's rooms into "the Bone Room" in 1987. It immediately became an attraction, moving to its present location 10 years ago.

"I love this place for its artistic value," says Helene Poulshock, an Oakland resident who has worked at The Bone Room since January. Also an artist, Poulshock uses the bones as inspiration for woodcuts. "I love borrowing things. It's so great to work with the bones and see how they can translate into art."

The bones are also translated into jewelry. Mink penis bone earrings sell for $15 a pair, and rat skull ones go for $30. Cauble himself wears a bracelet of an anteater's vertebra and rib cast in silver.

"I like to say this is a non-virtual reality store," Cauble says. "Absolutely nothing can replace touching and feeling the real thing. That's the whole reason why The Bone Room is here."

The Bone Room is at 1569 Solano Ave. in Berkeley. Hours are 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday and until 7 p.m. Thursdays. For more information, call (510) 526-5252, e-mail evolve@boneroom.com or visit www.boneroom.com

Jennifer Carnig can be reached at (925) 416-4842 or by e-mail at jcarnig@angnewspapers.com .


©2002 The Oakland Tribune.
All rights reserved. Reproduced with the permission of Media NewsGroup, Inc. by NewsBank, Inc.

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