Patron’s Choice: Language Battles in the Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books

Posted on July 11, 2013 by

This week we are pleased to feature a guest post from Nicholas Shangler, Lecturer of French at Longwood University in Farmville, Virginia.

Dr. Shangler graduated with a Ph.D. in French from the University of Virginia this past May 2013. While in graduate school, he worked with rare books as a student employee in Digital Curation Services at the University of Virginia Library, and while doing so, found a series of books by Henri Estienne that would become central to his dissertation work.

***

During my first semester of graduate school, I quickly realized that I needed a part-time job. Serendipitously, Digital Curation Services was seeking someone to assist with the digitization of the Gordon Collection, an impressive holding of primarily sixteenth century French books, at the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library. I didn’t know it then, but that job would influence the course of my graduate career and beyond, leading me to specialize in Renaissance literature. The digitization process involved perusing the books in the Gordon Collection, selecting one, and scanning it page by page. Although admittedly tedious at times, the process allowed me to spend hours each day becoming acquainted with fascinating materials more profoundly than I ever would have otherwise. Many of the works are not exactly canonical, affording me a richer experience of Renaissance French culture and literature than I’d previously been exposed to in classes.

A section of the Gordon Collection of French Books stacks. (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

A section of the Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books stacks. (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Douglas H. Gordon bookplate. (Photograph of Petrina Jackson)

One curious work that I spent some time considering was Deux dialogues du nouueau langage françois (1578) by Henri Estienne. It intrigued me with its descriptions of French words being chopped in half and “stuffed” with Italian words (inserted between the two ends of the original French words). What?! Then the author claimed that the French language descended from Greek, not Latin. Clearly this guy was crazy. I put it down and chose other works to digitize. But apparently it stuck with me. Five years later, while drafting my dissertation prospectus on French language innovation in the Renaissance, I recalled these strange dialogues. I returned to Special Collections and paid Monsieur Estienne a visit.

Deux Dialogues (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Henri Estienne’s Deux Dialogues du Nouveau Langage Francois, 1578 (Gordon 1578 .E78. Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

France and Italy experienced a mutual cultural and linguistic intertwining beginning in at least the early medieval period. The influence of the Italians intensified with the marriage of the French prince, Henri II – son of François I – to Catherine de Medici, in 1533. The ascension of Henri II to the throne in 1547 brought increasing numbers of Italians not only into France, but into the folds of the French Court. Many courtiers embraced the growing Italianism and affected a language heavily characterized both by Italian words and by French words recomposed so as to incorporate fragments of Italian. However, a number of prominent voices discouraged their French countrymen from having anything to do with the Italians, urging instead greater respect for French national culture. Among those who began to protest against the intrusion of Italianism in France, and particularly with regard to language, a certain Parisian printer distinguished himself by his fervor and for his compelling articulation of the argument in support of the purity of French.

Henri Estienne (1528-1598) was destined to participate in the battle over language. The son of Robert (1503-1559), a renowned printer and scholar, Estienne developed from a young age a curiosity and love for languages and books. He mastered Latin, Greek and Italian, and devoted a significant amount of work to translating, editing, publishing and/or collating essential classical texts. During the final two decades of his life, from the mid-1570s until his death, Estienne undertook two original editions of the Greek New Testament accompanied by his own critical commentary.

Henri Estienne’s polemic against the Italianized French employed by French courtiers appears in three separate but related works. Together they form a sort of trilogy, each attacking various aspects of the central problem. The first, Traicté de la conformité du language françois avec le grec (1565), denies the superiority of Italian by belittling its roots. Estienne claims in his preface that the Italian language owes a far greater debt to French than does French to any Italian heritage. He supports his argument by advancing the idea that French descends directly from Greek and has more in common with Greek than any other language. Since everyone universally recognizes Greek as the greatest language in history, French must therefore be the second greatest. Italian, on the other hand, is but the paltry progeny of Latin. Estienne decries the recent linguistic inventions of the Italianizing courtiers and instead longingly praises the true French language “pure and simple, showing nothing of artifice, nor of affectation: that which Sir Courtier has not yet changed according to his tastes, and which has nothing borrowed from modern languages” [“pur et simple, n’ayant rien de fard, ni d’affectation: lequel monsieur le courtisan n’a point encore changé à sa guise, & qui ne tient rien d’emprunt des langues modernes.”] (Estienne, Conformité, preface, Vvo)

(Typ.E77 1565E. Stone Typography Collection. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Henri Estienne’s Traicte de la Conformite du language francois auec le Grec, 1565. (Typ.E77 1565E. Stone Typography Collection. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Estienne continues the attack where he left off with the 1578 publication of the Deux dialogues du nouueau langage françois. The book opens with a series of poems that set the stage for the debate to follow. In the first of the two dialogues, Estienne posits an exchange between a character named Celtophile (“lover of France”), whose role is to prosecute the case against the Italianized French, and Philausone (“lover of Italy”), who frequents the Court and is charged with defending the practice. Naturally the jury is rigged in favor of Celtophile, with the accused found guilty even before the opening gavel. The two interlocutors find themselves at an impasse at the close of the first dialogue. They agree to reconvene the next morning to continue their discussion, and to go together to consult a third party, Philalethe (“lover of Truth”). Over the course of the second dialogue the topic of their argument gradually progresses to whether French or Italian, considered separately rather than in their blended form, is the greater language. Once Philalethe joins the conversation he promptly dismantles all of Philausone’s reasoning, according an unconditional victory to the French language. Still, Philausone refuses to concede. The book ends with Philalethe promising to demonstrate further the dominance of the French language at a later time.

Keeping Philalethe’s promise, the following year – 1579 – Henri Estienne published De la précellence du langage françois, which he dedicated in the preface to King Henri III. Though this work stands as a sequel to the Dialogues, Philalethe disappears and Estienne offers the book in his own voice using his real name, opening with a poem entitled “H. Estiene aux François.” Here he broadens the scope of his attacks, no longer limiting himself to rebutting the use of Italianisms at Court. Alluding to his own Conformité, he reiterates his claims of the self-sufficiency of French with regard to other languages, particularly Italian. Most of Estienne’s logic is unsound. He persists in relying upon his fallacious etymologies relating French to Greek, that he first sketched out in the Conformité, and then states that any words that seem equivalent between French and Italian are the result of Italian borrowing, rather than a common Latin heritage.

(Gordon 1579. E78. Gordon French Book Collection. Image by Digitization Services )

Henri Estienne’s Project du Livre Intitulé De la Precellence du Language Francois, 1579. (Gordon 1579. E78. Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books. Image by Digitization Services )

Estienne ridicules the changing pronunciation of certain words, and presents his vision of the resulting confusion of words and objects in ways that give his reader to understand the gravity of the situation. For instance, in the Dialogues, he condemns the changed pronunciation of oi into e. The examples that he chooses – including “françois” (Frenchman) to “français” and “roine” (queen) to “reine” – underscore the danger of allowing the courtiers’ language to insinuate itself into the formerly pure French. Not only does the new form of the word for “queen” risk signifying a frog instead, but the pronunciation of the very word indicating national belonging is changing.

Such a world is unstable and proved frightening to Estienne. Estienne suggests even from the outset that the new words and those who are using them in new ways are already changing France itself. The Dialogues opens with the poem, “The Book to the Readers” [“Le Livre aux Lecteurs”], which offers the warning that there are those for whom “in everything novelty is beautiful, / So much so that they are making us a new France” [“en tout la nouveauté est belle, / Tant qu’il [sic] nous font une France nouvelle”] (Estienne, Dialogues). These worries transcend a mere discussion of language, and extend into the realms of politics and society. Estienne’s works suggest that changes in language will precipitate changes in reality. Although his focus is ostensibly linguistic, his motivations spring from deep political concerns about the future of his native France.

I suppose Henri Estienne would be relieved to know that the French language I was studying when I discovered his works in 2004 ultimately survived the encroachment of Italian. His works and the many others of that era housed in the U.Va. Special Collections are all perfectly comprehensible to French speakers of today, despite the occasional variation in spelling and usage. However, browsing current French-language social media posts online, I suspect that there would still be fodder aplenty for a reincarnated Estienne to pen yet another series of polemical treatises, though the target would no longer be Italian. As it happens, in 1964, René Étiemble published Parlez-vous franglais?, a work linking patriotism and linguistic purism in which he approvingly references Estienne and cites passages from the Précellence du langage françois. Indeed, these old rare books continually prove to be far more relevant to modern ideas than one might first imagine.

Nicholas Shangler (Photograph by Sarah Reynolds-Shangler)

Patron’s Choice: A Slave Negotiates her own Sale, 1852

Posted on July 5, 2013 by

This week we are pleased to feature a guest post from Harrison Fellow Lauren LaFauci.

Dr. LaFauci spent several weeks in Special Collections this spring as an Elwood Fellow at the Harrison Institute for American History, Literature, and Culture. She was researching for her current book project, entitled Peculiar Natures: Slavery, Environment, and Nationalism in the Southern States, 1789-1865. She teaches at the University of Tulsa.

A tireless researcher who dug deep into our collections, LaFauci generously shared her most interesting finds with the Reading Room staff. She agreed to write for Notes from Under Grounds about one item in particular: a letter from a slave-owner describing how he came to sell his his slave Fanny. As LaFauci points out, we can only get so far in recovering the circumstances of this sale since this letter is our only source.

***

Writing from Halifax Court House, Virginia to his brother Alex in Williamsburg on October 4, 1852, Ben Garrett closed his letter with the following important news:

You must tell Ma : that I have sold Fanny to M^r Poindexter who Keeps a Hotel in the village – opposite to Easley’s store – I did not intend or wish to sell her, but she behaved so badly I was compelled to do so – I sold her for the sum of $850.⁰⁰ payable on the 1^st day of May next –

Such a note—while always jarring to 21^st-century readers, even to those of us reading about and studying slavery—communicates nothing unusual to its recipient. Citing what he perceived as Fanny’s bad behavior, Ben told Alex that he “was compelled to [sell her],” which was a common punishment. However, the rest of the letter communicates something highly unusual, at least for those stories preserved in the archive:

She told me, she had rather be sold than to go back to Williamsburg You know I disposed of my home & lot at the Co: House & determined to remove to my plantation sometime in November next. She was opposed to living in the Country – not wishing to leave the Village I told her to go to the plantation, whereupon she ran off from me & was gone a week. – When she came home, she said, she wanted to be sold & that “arrangements” were made the night before she returned home for her to get off to a free State or out of the State, but that she preferred being sold in the Village – I have had a deal of trouble with her – more than all the rest together for it was almost impossible to control her. She exhibited no signs of penitence & asked me to sell her. Poindexter offered me a large price & I determined to let her go – I understand that he & his wife are pleased with her & if she will behave herself, they will treat her well – Of course I will account for her value – but I will add, she is one of the most difficult negroes to control I ever saw –

Say to Ma : I am sorry I had to sell her, but that she asked & was anxious to be sold – I think she was Kept by some white persons about the Village, which was the cause of her conduct. I saw her to-day & she seemed to be satisfied with her new home from her appearance — I know that she was treated well at our house & there was no excuse for her behaviour & then to have the impudence to run away from me & stay out a week. If it was not that she was aunt Lucy’s child (who has been so faithful) I should have no pity for her – [. . .]

The opening page of the letter. (MSS 9974-a: Papers of the Garrett Family. Photograph by Molly Schwartzburg)

This story presents a number of thorny questions. If we take Ben’s communication of the events at face value—a large “if,” and more on that below—then Fanny took distinct and savvy actions to achieve her desired outcome. First, she resisted Ben’s orders to “go to the plantation” in the country by running away for one week; at that time, she may have been making the “arrangements” Ben alludes to. Such truancy would have signaled to Ben that she was willing to take drastic actions in order to get her way, while simultaneously giving her time and space to effect her own escape or sale. Second, she appears to have negotiated this sale; Ben notes that Fanny “asked & was anxious to be sold” and that she “was opposed to living in the Country” and would “rather be sold than to go back to Williamsburg.”

These lines from the third page of the letter reveal the extent of Fanny’s influence upon her owner. (Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

If we assume Ben’s version of events, Fanny told him that she preferred to be sold “in the Village” rather than relocating to his rural plantation. Such a preference raises an intriguing parallel to the narrative of Harriet Jacobs, who similarly desired to stay within the town of Edenton, North Carolina, where she gained some protection from the advances of her lecherous owner, James Norcom: “It was lucky for me that I did not live on a distant plantation,” she wrote, “but in a town not so large that the inhabitants were ignorant of each other’s affairs. Bad as are the laws and customs in a slaveholding community, [Norcom], as a professional man, deemed it prudent to keep up some outward show of decency” (47).** In another parallel with Jacobs, Fanny appears to have been on intimate terms with “some white persons about the Village”: readers of Jacobs will recall that she forms a relationship with Samuel Tredwell Sawyer, having two children with him, in order to protect herself from the sexual advances of Norcom. Both Fanny and Jacobs seem to engage in alternative relationships to gain increased power within a system designed to deny them such agency.

A page from Harriet Jacobs’s Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, demonstrating compelling parallels with Fanny’s much more heavily mediated story. (PS 1293 .I54 1861. Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

And now to that big “if” – to what extent can we take Ben’s account of this story as “the truth”? If Fanny was indeed seeking shelter from sexual advances, can we trust that she really “asked & was anxious to be sold”? Or was Ben trying to cover for himself, to provide a reason for the sale of an enslaved woman who was clearly important to the family?

These questions, among many others, make up the central problem for historians of slavery: most of the stories about enslaved people in the archive are mediated through the voices of the people who legally owned them. We attempt to ascertain the “true” course of events, but we must frequently do so through the words of those with the power to construct such stories however they wish, and for audiences with motivations similar to their own. In a time when enslaved people were prohibited by law from learning to read and write, any evidence of literacy would have been hidden from those with the power to preserve such words, leaving us with mere traces and glimpses. We work through several layers of meaning, only to emerge with more questions than we had at the start. How do you interpret Fanny’s story?

Author’s note: I have reproduced the spelling, formatting, and punctuation as they appear in the original letter. Any errors in the transcription are my own.

ABCs of Special Collections: F is for…

Posted on July 1, 2013 by

We are back with fore-edge paintings, Margaret Fuller, and that infamous word that starts with the letter:

F is for Fancy Roman, which is one of 75 alphabets represented in Frank H. Atkinson’s Atkinson Sign Painting up to Now: A Complete Manual of Sign Painting. Chicago: Frederick J. Drake & Co., 1915 (not yet catalogued. Gift of Nicholas Curtis. (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

F is for the “F” word

Widely considered the most offensive word in English, f*** has been a part of the language since at least the 15th-century and remained virtually unprintable until the late 20th-century. Norman Mailer famously created the euphemism “fug” in The Naked and the Dead and was subsequently teased as “the young man who doesn’t know how to spell ‘f**k.’” By the 1960s, the taboos against it were relaxing and the counterculture used it enthusiastically in poems, magazines, and even naming a publishing operation The F*** You Press.

Contributed by Edward Gaynor, Head of Description and Specialist for Virginiana and University Archives

Cover of Norman Mailer’s The Naked and the Dead, 1948. The jacket design is by Karov. (PS 3525 .A4152 N3. Photograph by Petrina Jackson.)

Front and back covers of Fuck You: A Magazine for the Arts, number 4 and number 5, respectively, 1963(AP2 .F96. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Prose and Poetry. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Front and back covers of Fuck You: A Magazine for the Arts, number 4 (Aug. 1962) and number 5, volume 5 (Dec. 1963), respectively. The magazine was published, printed, and edited by Ed Sanders. (AP2 .F96. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Prose and Poetry. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Cover of Fuck Nam: A Morality Play by Tuli Kupferberg, 1967. (PS3561 .U63 F8 1967. The Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Prose and Poetry. Photograph by Petrina Jackson).

F is for Fore-Edge Painting

You can’t judge a book by its cover. You may, however, judge it by its fore-edge painting. The Merriam Webster dictionary defines fore-edge painting as “the method or act of painting a picture on the fore edge [or the front outer edge of a book] so that the picture is visible only when the pages are slightly fanned.” This method of enhancing the edges of books with paintings has wowed bibliophiles as far back as the 10th-century.

Contributed by Regina Rush, Reference Coordinator

Fore-edge of Thoughts on Hunting: in a Series of Familiar Letters to a Friend. (SK 285 .B39. 1820. Bequeathed to the School of Medicine of the University of Virginia by the Moyston Estate. Placed on indefinite loan in the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

First fore edge painting from Thoughts on Hunting:

This is the first image of a double fore-edge painting from Thoughts on Hunting: in a Series of Familiar Letters to a Friend. (SK 285 .B39. 1820. Bequeathed to the School of Medicine of the University of Virginia by the Moyston Estate. Placed on indefinite loan in the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Second fore edge painting, which seen by fanning the text block the opposite way of the first image.

This is the second image from the double fore-edge painting from Thoughts on Hunting, which can be seen by fanning the text block the opposite way of the first image. (SK 285 .B39. 1820. Bequeathed to the School of Medicine of the University of Virginia by the Moyston Estate. Placed on indefinite loan in the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

F is for Margaret Fuller

One of the most prominent members of the Transcendentalist Movement, Margaret Fuller embraced reform in the 19th-century as a tireless promoter for women’s rights, the abolition of slavery, as well as for education and prison reform. She was editor of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s journal, The Dial during its first two years of existence, and her book, Woman in the Nineteenth Century, was a groundbreaking work promoting a woman’s right to education and employment. A search of Virgo shows 21 records relating to Margaret Fuller, including printed and manuscript material.

Contributed by George Riser, Collections and Instruction Assistant

Until next time, farewell!

This Just In: Summer Beach Reading Edition

Posted on June 27, 2013 by

The following miscellany of recent book acquisitions is intended, not for those basking and basting on a sandy beach, but for those who prefer the cool, calm, and comfortable surroundings of the Special Collections reading room under Grounds. Take a break from tanning and pay us a summer visit!

Plate 13 in William M. Woollett, Old homes made new: being a collection of plans … illustrating the alteration and remodelling of several suburban residences (New York: A. J. Bicknell & Co., 1878).

A new addition to our extensive architecture holdings reminds us that architecture can be a process of renovation as well as creation. In Old homes made new (New York: A. J. Bicknell, 1878), Albany, N.Y. architect William M. Woollett offers remodeling advice to American homeowners. Stuck with a New England saltbox, Federal mansion, Greek Revival temple, or Gothic Revival embarrassment? Through before-and-after floor plans and exterior views, Woollett shows how to update one’s ancestral family home to the then-fashionable Queen Anne style. The work closes with exterior photographs of a mid-18^th-century home in Ridgefield, Conn. that Woollett had transformed into a Victorian showpiece. Architectural historians, historic preservationists, and others charged with reverse-engineering historic structures may find Woollett’s approach illuminating.

When money is THE object: one way to select a spouse in the Antebellum South, as explicated in S. S. Hall, The bliss of marriage: or, How to get a rich wife. (New Orleans: J. B. Steel, 1858)

But the nest must be built before it can be renovated. Populating that nest is the subject of S. S. Hall’s rare and unusual Bliss of marriage: or, How to get a rich wife (New Orleans: J. B. Steel, 1858). In some respects similar to the many courtship guides published in Antebellum America, Hall’s work is in other ways different in claiming to be written for a Southern audience. A New Orleans attorney (and not the prolific dime novel writer “Buckskin Sam” Hall, as often claimed), Hall based this work on three years’ “personal experience and general observation.” After offering advice such as “Marry no woman who sleeps till breakfast,” Hall devotes most of the book to the art of marrying well, and well-to-do. At the end is a 15-page appendix of nearly 400 wealthy “unmarried young ladies and gentlemen”—the former identified only by initials, the latter by full name—residing in various Louisiana, Mississippi, and Kentucky towns, with their estimated net worth. One wonders how successfully Hall followed his own advice.

Title page to Wänskaps och handels tractat emellan Hans Maj:t konungen af Swerige och the Förente staterne i Norra America … = Traité d’amitié et de commerce entre Sa Majesté le roi de Suède et les Etats-unis de l’Amérique septentrionale … (Stockholm: Kongl. Tryckeriet, 1785)

To the McGregor Library of American History we have added the rare Swedish printing (Stockholm, 1785) of the landmark 1783 Treaty of Amity and Commerce between Sweden and the United States. In September 1782, with the American Revolution drawing to a close, Congress empowered John Adams, John Jay, Henry Laurens, and Benjamin Franklin to negotiate peace with Britain. At the same time Franklin was appointed minister to Sweden, and he quickly entered into discussions with his Swedish counterpart. A treaty was concluded on April 3, 1783, and ratified by both countries later that year. Sweden thus became the first neutral country to officially recognize the United States. The treaty’s text is printed in parallel columns in Swedish and French, with Congress’s act of ratification appended in English.

A detail from one of the massive (53 x 36 cm.) engraved plates in André François Roland, Le grand art d’ecrire. (Paris: Chez Esnauts et Rapilly, [between 1777 and 1791]

Summer is no time to dredge up dreary memories of primary school penmanship class, but we can’t resist pointing out that the history of handwriting and calligraphy are strongly represented in Special Collections. At a recent auction we were able to acquire several very rare 18^th-century French, Italian, and German penmanship manuals, thereby adding significant depth to our holdings. Penmanship instruction was long the province of writing masters, some of whom published manuals for their students’ use. Typically these consisted of engraved plates reproducing examples of the master’s penmanship. Some plates would demonstrate how to hold the quill pen and execute the basic strokes, others would illustrate the various hands, and still others would advertise the master’s expertise, particularly his command of hand in which texts and even elaborate images were drawn without once lifting the pen from paper. These writing books were often published on demand, with students customizing their copies by selecting from among the available engraved plates, hence copies are rare and tend to vary in content. Shown here is a detail from Le grande art d’ecrire, which features the work of André François Roland, a Parisian writing master active in the mid-18^th century. The U.Va. copy, in its original blue paper wrappers, contains 31 plates and was issued sometime between 1777 and 1791. Other copies are known issued as early as 1758. This work is extremely unusual for its large format, with plates measuring 53 x 36 cm.

[Harvey Newcomb], The “Negro pew”: being an inquiry concerning the propriety of distinctions in the House of God, on account of color. (Boston: Isaac Knapp, 1837)

Another spring auction added several anti-slavery and abolitionist works to Special Collections, including a fine copy in its original publisher’s binding with printed cover label of Harvey Newcomb’s The “Negro pew”: being an inquiry concerning the propriety of distinctions in the House of God, on account of color. Published in Boston in 1837, Newcomb’s book advanced the abolitionist movement a step further by confronting Northern prejudice against African Americans. Taking as his starting point the common practice of restricting where blacks could sit in church, Newcomb marshals many arguments to support his thesis “that every man is entitled to be esteemed and treated according to his social, moral, and intellectual worth.”

P. T. Barnum (er, Petite Bunkum) and General Tom Thumb make the acquaintance of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, in The autobiography of Petite Bunkum, the showman. (New York: P. F. Harris, 1855)

The great American showman P. T. Barnum makes innumerable cameo appearances under Grounds in Special Collections’ rich holdings relating to 19^th-century American literature and culture, hence we were happy to acquire a rare Barnum parody. In 1855, just before financial reversals added further notoriety to his name, Barnum published a best-selling autobiography “written by himself.” The book was quickly and affectionately parodied in The autobiography of Petite Bunkum, the showman (New York: P. F. Harris, 1855), also (and anonymously) “written by himself.” “In these pages I have adhered to the truth as closely as might suit my purpose,” Bunkum allows, before relating his comical rise to fame and fortune. Of the supporting characters, only General Tom Thumb retains his full name. Others receive a modest fig leaf—Joyce Heath (for Joyce Heth, billed as George Washington’s 160-year-old nurse), Jenny [Lind] the Swedish Nightingale, the Fudge Mermaid, the Whiskered Woman—and all are caricatured in image as well as in word.

It’s 5 p.m. and we must close for the day, but perhaps there’s still time for the beach?

Class Notes from Rare Book School: A Special Collections Edition

Posted on June 22, 2013 by

You know it is officially summer when Rare Book School (RBS) begins at the University of Virginia. RBS offers week-long, intensive courses on manuscript, printed, and born-digital materials. Although a completely independent institute, RBS shares a close relationship with the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library. In fact, its director, Michael Suarez, is honorary curator of the Special Collections Library (SC). Nicole Bouché, director of Special Collections, describes the relationship:

The relationship between SC and the RBS is unique: it allows a convergence of an outstanding Special Collections and a world-class school for the study of the history of the book, combining forces and resources for an intensive summer of instruction. The Rare Book School program would not be possible without the strength of our collections, and we benefit annually from the expertise that an international faculty brings to the study of the rare books, manuscripts and other resources held by the Small Special Collections Library.

RBS is outfitted with its own well-used teaching collections, and some of its faculty also arrange sessions in the Special Collections Library, using our materials. RBS also organizes several public lectures of “bookish” matters, coinciding with their summer sessions. All of this makes for an engaging and lively environment around the learning about books. Two Special Collections and RBS staff pull and organize 800 books over a five week period for approximately 25 classes. It is a rapid-paced endeavor that takes lots of focus since some of the classes use the same materials, sometimes in the same week.

Here is a little behind the scenes look at what goes on to make the magic happen!

Week one slips for each Special Collections book pulled for Rare Book School.

First week slips for each Special Collections book pulled for Rare Book School (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Emily Cone-Miller pulls the books for each RBS class and organizes them in the stacks. (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

George Riser checks out Special Collections books for RBS.(Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

George Riser checks out books for each RBS class that visits Special Collections.(Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Books are ready for an RBS class and include titles, such as the Samuel Johnson's Dictionary, the Kelmscott Chaucer, and the Doves Press Bible.

The books are ready for an RBS class. This book truck include titles, such as Samuel Johnson’s Dictionary, the Kelmscott Chaucer, and the Doves Press Bible. (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

All of this preparation results in lots of opportunities for RBS students to immerse themselves in and learn about the many facets of rare books and book history made possible by the rich holdings of Special Collections. The first week of classes with topics as varied as teaching the history of the book, scholarly editing, and 19th- and 20th-Century typography, included 15 sessions using our collections materials.

Here are some of the classes in action!

Martin Antonetti discusses a medieval bible with his The Printed Book in the West to 1800 class. (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

New RBS faculty John Kristensen and Katherine M. Ruffin give background information on a book. Their class The History of c19 & c20 Typography & Printing made its debut the first week of RBS this summer. (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Matthew Kirschenbaum and Naomi Nelson brought their Born-Digital Materials: Theory and Practice to Special Collections to see one book. The book, featured here, (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Matthew Kirschenbaum and Naomi Nelson brought their Born-Digital Materials: Theory and Practice to Special Collections to see one book, Notebook by Annesas Appel. According to our catalog record the book “is a project based on mapping the inside of a notebook [computer].” Ours is number 7 of a limited edition. (N7443.4 .A645 N6 2009. Associates Endowment Fund, 2012/2013. Photograph by Petrina Jackson.)

This summer, RBS runs through the last week of July, including notable faculty such as our very own Curator and Blogger David Whitesell and Mark Dimunition, Chief of the Rare Book and Special Collections Division of the Library of Congress. If you are looking for an intensive learning experience, surrounded by enthusiastic, like-minded people, and outstanding faculty, look no further than Rare Book School at the University of Virginia. You may get to study from some of the treasures of the Special Collections Library.

ABCs of Special Collections: E is for

Posted on June 19, 2013 by

Welcome to our newest installment in the ABC series! Today, we give you the letter…

E is for Eccentric French, which is one of 75 alphabets represented in Frank H. Atkinson’s Atkinson Sign Painting up to Now: A Complete Manual of Sign Painting. Chicago: Frederick J. Drake & Co., 1915 (not yet catalogued. Gift of Nicholas Curtis. (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

E is for Endpapers

With rare exceptions, endpapers are not part of the book as printed.
They are the double leaves (or pages) added at front and back by the binder,
the outer leaf (or page) of each being pasted to the inner surface of the
cover (known as the paste-down), the inner leaves (or free endpapers)
forming the first and last of the volume when bound or cased.

Contributed by Petrina Jackson, Head of Instruction and Outreach; text from the Online Books Page: ABC for Book Collectors by John Carter http://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/book/lookupid?key=olbp43199

Front Free Endpaper page 1 from Liure tres bon plaisant et salutaire de linstitution de la femme chrestienne, tant en son enfance, que mariage & viduite. : Aussi de loffice du mary, · Vives, Juan Luis, 1492-1540 · 1543

Front free endpaper from Liure tres bon plaisant et salutaire de linstitution de la femme chrestienne, tant en son enfance, que mariage & viduite.: Aussi de loffice du mary, 1543. (Gordon 1543 .V58. Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books. Image by U.Va. Library Digitization Services.)

Front Free Endpaper page 1 from La Metamorphose d'Ouide figuree · Ovid, 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D. · 1557

Front free endpaper from La Metamorphose d’Ouide figuree, 1557. (Gordon 1557 .O85. Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books. Image by U.Va. Library Digitization Services.)

Pastedown endpaper from Le mistere de la conception natiuite mariage. Et annonciation de la benoiste vierge marie. Auec la natiuite de Jesuchrist et son enfance …, 1530. (Gordon 1530 .M57. Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books. Image by U.Va. Library Digitization Services.)

E is for Engraving and Etching

E is for Engraving and Etching …the difference? “A useful analogy is to imagine the surface of the paper as a thin layer of snow on a frozen pond. The engraver is limited to making lines with the edge of a skate; the etcher can draw with a pointed stick”, notes author Bamber Gascoigne in How to Identify Prints. The engraver incises a design into a metal plate, allowing for highly detailed renderings. The etcher scratches an image into a wax coating, and then the design is bitten into the plate with acid, allowing the artist more creative freedom.

Contributed by Donna Stapley, Assistant to the Director

Copper plate from George Cruikshank's Illustrations for Oliver Twist, 1894 (NC978 .5. C78 O55 1894 v. 4. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

Copper “fireside” plate from George Cruikshank’s Illustrations for Oliver Twist, 1894 (NC978 .5. C78 O55 1894 v. 4. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

Detail of an etching from Six Signed Proofs of Original Etchings of Pablo Picasso: Made to illustrate an edition of Aristophanes’ Lysistrata, 1934. (ND553 .P5 1934. Gift of T. Catesby Jones. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

Engraving from Encyclopédie; ou Díctionnaire raisonné des sciences, des arts et des métiers. (Gordon 1751 .D542 t8. Gordon French Book Collection. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

Engraving from Encyclopédie; ou Díctionnaire raisonné des sciences, des arts et des métiers.
(Gordon 1751 .D542 t8. Douglas H. Gordon Collection of French Books. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

E is for the Eliot Bible

The Eliot “Indian” Bible was published in 1663, the first Bible printed in America. The Holy Bible: Containing the Old and the New Testament was translated into the Algonquin language by Puritan minister John Eliot, who was assisted by a young Native American. The first complete English edition of the Bible was not printed in North America for another 120 years.

Contributed by Anne Causey, Public Services Assistant

Title page of John Eliot’s The Holy Bible: Containing the Old Testament and the New and the spine of his New Testament translation into the Algonquin language. (A 1663 .B53 and A 1661 .B52, respectively. Tracy W. McGregor Library of American History. Photograph by Donna Stapley)

First edition of the Eliot Bible opened to the book of Deuteronomy. (A 1663 .B53. Tracy W. McGregor Library of American History. Photograph by Donna Stapley)

E is for William Everson

William Everson, also known as ‘Brother Antoninus,’ or the ‘Beat Friar,’ was a poet, critic, and small press printer. Meeting like-minded poets during his World War II stint as a conscientious objector, Everson became an influential member of the San Francisco Renaissance during the late 50’s, 60’s and 70s. Much of his critical work focused on Robinson Jeffers, and his Lime Kiln Press printed a number of notable editions, most famously Granite & Cypress in 1975.

Contributed by George Riser, Collections and Instruction Assistant

William Everson (Photograph by Donna Stapley)

Career biography of William Everson, featured in The Masks of Drought, 1980. (PS3509 V65 M37. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Literature. Photograph by Donna Stapley)

Granite and Cypress (Photograph by Donna Stapley)

Title page of Granite & Cypress by Robinson Jeffers. According to our catalog records, “One hundred copies of this book have been printed under the direction of William Everson. The title page woodcut is by William Prochnow … Binding [of German Naturegewebe and spine open-laced with deerskin rawhide] is by The Schuberth Bookbindery of San Francisco. The slip-case, fashioned by one who prefers to remain anonymous, is of Monterey Cypress. Its window of granite is from Jeffers’ own stoneyard ” (PS3519. E27 G7. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

That is all for now. Please join us in two weeks when the featured letter is F!

On view now: Landmarks of Dystopian Fiction

Posted on June 13, 2013 by

Wednesday morning, National Public Radio reported that the recent revelations about NSA surveillance have led to skyrocketing book sales of George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four:

As of this morning, Amazon sales of George Orwell’s dystopian novel 1984 had jumped 6,021 percent in just 24 hours, to No. 213 on Amazon’s bestseller list. As NPR’s Alan Greenblatt recently pointed out, many people have found uncomfortable resonances between Orwell’s “Big Brother” state and the news that broke last week of U.S. government surveillance programs. The news can often be a major driver of book sales: In 2008, sales of Ayn Rand’s conservative classic Atlas Shrugged spiked during the banking industry bailouts.

The first American edition of George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four. (Z239 .C53 Z99 .O78 N56 1949. Gift of Warren Chappell. Photo by Molly Schwartzburg).

Now, we don’t want to claim that Special Collections had advance knowledge of Snowden’s whistle-blowing plans. It may just be a coincidence that when this all happened, public services staff member Margaret Hrabe was in the process of preparing our latest mini-exhibition: Dystopian Fiction: Trapped in a Nightmare Future, now on view in the First Floor Gallery. Featuring Orwell’s masterpiece as well as many other landmark dystopias–and a handful of utopias for balance–this latest visual feast may offer you some alternatives for your summer’s reading list if your local bookstore is all sold-out of Nineteen Eighty-Four. Stop by and take a gander.

We’ll be watching.

Some of the titles on view. (Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

The books on display range in date from 1518 to 2013. (Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

The first editions of Thomas More's Utopia and Samuel Johnson's Rasselas, two landmarks in the history of Utopian literature.

Rare landmarks in the history of Utopian literature are on display, including the genre’s namesake, Thomas More’s Utopia, open to the map of Utopia (HX 810.5 .A2 1518. Robert and Virginia Tunstall Trust.) Also shown here is Samuel Johnson’s Rasselas (PR 3529 .A1 1759. Gift of CD Johnson). (Photo by Molly Schwartzburg

This Just In: Rolling in the Stacks with the Charlottesville Derby Dames

Posted on June 6, 2013 by

This week, we feature a guest post from Charlottesville Derby Dame Grëtel vön Metäl, also known as Gretchen Gueguen.

When we here at the Small Library think about new materials we would like to add to our collections we take many factors into consideration: the research quality of the content, connections to the University’s curriculum or history, or alignment with our core collecting areas. Given the breadth of subject, time period, and format of our collections we often come across materials that will complement or counterpoint something we already own, even though at first glance it might not seem to fit with everything else.

Such is the story of how we made our newest acquisition, the Charlottesville Derby Dames Records. The Dames are a non-profit women’s sport club here in Charlottesville founded in 2007. My day-job at the library is Digital Archivist, but on the flat-track I am known as “Grëtel vön Metäl.” When I mentioned one day that I was going to be skating with the Dames in an upcoming match (called a “bout” in derby parlance), our current Head of Technical Services, Edward Gaynor, immediately suggested that a collection of Dames materials would make an excellent complement to our collections of the papers of various local and regional “ladies’ clubs” such as The Garden Club or the Ladies’ Sewing Society. When researchers come to the Reading Room to look at these collections they are usually studying the ways in which women construct their identities in public: how do they present themselves? what kinds of activities do they become involved in? what can these things tell us about women’s roles?

A screenshot of the Dames’ website, ca. 2012 (MSS MSS 15490). Compare with the Team’s current page: http://www.charlottesvillederbydames.com.

A screenshot of the Dames’ website, ca. 2012 (MSS 15490). Compare with the Team’s current page: http://www.charlottesvillederbydames.com.

The sport of roller derby began in the late 1800s as endurance skating races. They were a popular activity for both sexes until entrepreneurs Leo Seltzer and Damon Runyon formed professional leagues featuring women in the 1930s and added elements of competition and physical contact. The sport was immensely popular, a staple of television, until the 70s. While the fights were often staged, the women skaters were skilled athletes.

Roller derby in the fifties was pretty rough and tumble, but with no protective gear (image courtesy of the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs division: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/resource/cph.3c13476/)

Roller derby in the fifties was pretty rough and tumble, but skaters wore no protective gear (image courtesy of the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs division: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/resource/cph.3c13476/)

Roller derby began its resurgence in the early 2000s in Austin, Texas. Doing away with the traditional banked track and playing on a flat oval made it easier to find a place to skate – anywhere you can find a big flat space, you can play roller derby (although a few leagues still use a banked track). The game quickly spread across the country and even across the globe. By 2013 over 1,200 leagues had formed on every continent but Antarctica, and men’s, junior’s, and co-ed leagues are growing in numbers as well.

Derby has a growing fan-base, and an even more passionate following among those who play it. Women’s roller derby is especially known for the colorful personas adopted by players, symbolized by their adopted “Derby Names.” The sport itself requires a high degree of athleticism combining strength, endurance, skill, and strategy, but on the flat track skaters can be as menacing (Soulfearic Acid), tough (Punky Bruiser), flirty (Sexy Sladie), or playful (Snot Rocket Science) as they want to be.

Today the Dames play with helmets, knee and elbow pads and wrist guards. This photo is from a bout in 2012 at Charlottesville’s Main Street Arena against the Charm City Rollergirls of Baltimore, Maryland (MSS 15490. photo by Dan Purdy).

The newly acquired Derby Dames collection here at UVa is unusual in more than just its subject. It was also a chance for us to acquire a modern collection composed almost entirely of electronic materials. As the Dames have only just recently formed, all of our operational documents, promotional material, and ephemera are created as electronic documents and most are never printed. While the library has collected about 30 posters, handbills, programs, and other ephemera, we’ve also collected more than 12,000 electronic documents including bylaws and policies, meeting minutes, graphics, photos, video, and websites.

I worked with the Dames to download a copy of all of the team’s working files from a shared Google Documents folder. These files were immediately copied for safe keeping and stored on an external hard drive. Next, I used specialized software to create listings of all of the files present and some technical details of each. A key piece of information is what’s called a “checksum” – a kind of digital fingerprint in the form of a numerical code created by running an algorithm on the contents of a file. That file and only that particular file will create that particular checksum. This allows me to verify that files haven’t been corrupted or tampered with over time.

After organizing and removing duplicates from the collection, I uploaded the new collection to networked library storage and created a finding aid. Future work will include creating a searchable, online archive of the documents (access will be available on Grounds in the Reading Room initially) and working with the Library IT department to ensure the long-term preservation of the content within the Library and University’s larger IT infrastructure. This work will not only ensure the future access to the Derby Dames collection, but will pave the way for more electronic collections to come.

ABCs of Special Collections: D is for

Posted on June 3, 2013 by

We are delighted to present to you, the letter:

D is for “Detroit” Single Stroke Antique, which is one of 75 alphabets represented in Frank H. Atkinson’s Atkinson Sign Painting up to Now: A Complete Manual of Sign Painting. Chicago: Frederick J. Drake & Co., 1915 (not yet catalogued. Gift of Nicholas Curtis. Photograph by Petrina Jackson

D is for Darwin

As a medical student in London, Paul Victorius began collecting rare books and manuscripts, focusing primarily on Charles Darwin and the theory of evolution. Victorius returned to the United States in 1940 and in 1949 the University of Virginia acquired his collection. The Victorius Evolution Collection consists of over 800 books and 150 manuscripts relating to Darwin’s (and his contemporaries’) discoveries. Two highlights of the collection are watercolors of the H.M.S. Beagle by Conrad Martens.

Contributed by Edward Gaynor, Head of Description and Specialist for Virginiana and University Archives

Portrait of Charles Darwin, 1860. (MSS 3314. Paul Victorius Evolution Collection. Image by U.Va. Library Digitization Services)

H.M.S. Beagle, “Terra del Fuego,” watercolor by Conrad Martens, ca.1832. (MSS 3314. Paul Victorius Evolution Collection. Image by U.Va. Library Digitization Services.)

H.M.S. Beagle, “Mount Sarmiento in Terra del Fuego,” watercolor by Conrad Martens, ca.1832. (MSS 3314. Paul Victorius Evolution Collection. Image by U.Va. Library Digitization Services.)

D is for Desk of Charles Dickens

Charles Dickens embarked from Liverpool aboard the RMS Britannia on January 3, 1842, landing in Boston, on a tour of approximately 17 U.S. cities, including Richmond, Virginia. What would a prolific writer of novels, poetry and plays require for such a journey? A pearl inlaid travel desk, complete with quill pen, ink well, hat brush, ivory watch stand, and wooden match-case. Sensibly, in preparation against the winter winds of the northeastern States, a glass liquor flask accompanied the writer as well. In October of the same year, his book American Notes for General Circulation was published in England.

Contributed by Donna Stapley, Assistant to the Director

Portrait of Charles Dickens, photographed by George Herbert Watkins, 1858. (Image from Wikimedia Commons.)

Charles Dicken's desk, quill, album, and manuscript letter. (MSS 10562. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

Charles Dickens’ desk, quill pen, album, and manuscript letter. (MSS 10562. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

Charles Dickens' (MSS 10562. Photograph by Donna Stapley)

Charles Dickens’ hand mirror, case and hat brush. (MSS 10562. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

D is for Diane Di Prima

Often thought of as a poet who bridged the aesthetics of the Beats and the Hippie Movements, Diane Di Prima grew up in Brooklyn, and became a seminal figure in the early days of the Beat Movement. With Amiri Baraka (LeRoi Jones), she founded the influential Beat magazine, The Floating Bear, and was friends and colleagues with Allen Ginsberg, Timothy Leary, William Burroughs, and Gregory Corso, among others. A search of our Library’s catalog shows 54 records related to Diane Di Prima.

Contributed by George Riser, Collections and Instruction Assistant

Cover of Diane Di Prima, Diane's This Kind of Bird Flies Backward, 1958. (PS3507.I68 T48 1958. Gift of Marvin Tatum. Photograph by Petrina Jackson).

Cover of Diane Di Prima’s This Kind of Bird Flies Backward, 1958. (PS3507.I68 T48 1958. Gift of Marvin Tatum. Photograph by Petrina Jackson).

Detail of the first Issue of Floating Bear, edited by Diane Di Prima and LeRoi Jones (aka Amiri Baraka). This issue includes poems by Michael McClure, Charles Olson, Max Finstein, and Robin Blaser. (PS3552 .U75 F562 1973. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

D is for Dog – the Thurber Dog

The humor of James Thurber came across abundantly in his writing, cartoons, and work as editor for The New Yorker magazine. Thurber’s prolific output of writings included The Middle-Aged Man on the Flying Trapeze (1935), Thurber’s Dogs (1955), and many more. Thurber loved dogs, owned and showed dogs, and delighted in drawing dogs. His cartoons of dogs in The New Yorker were renowned for their simplicity and the humor that they conveyed. By the late 1940s, Thurber had lost his eyesight. His drawings were of necessity large and done in crayon.

Contributed by Margaret Hrabe, Reference Coordinator

Thurber’s Dogs: A Collection of the Master’s Dogs, Written and Drawn, Real and Imaginary, Living and Long Ago, 1955. (PS3539 .H94 T54 1955. Gift of Mr. Charles Barham, Jr. Photograph by Donna Stapley.)

Well, D is done! We look forward to meeting you again in two weeks with the letter “E.”

Class Notes Goes on the Road: Medieval Manuscripts in South Carolina

Posted on May 30, 2013 by

This week, we are pleased to feature a guest post from Anne Causey, Public Services Assistant for the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library.

When I joined the Small Special Collections Library eight years ago, I realized how much I loved medieval manuscripts: books from before the emergence of printing (ca. 1450), which are often artfully decorated in vibrant natural colors, and sometimes gold leaf. Mostly I loved them because they are so beautiful (and so old), and amazingly enough, all done by hand!

I am always searching for opportunities to learn more about these gems, so in March I attended “Understanding Medieval Manuscripts,” a two-day seminar at the University of South Carolina. The class was hosted by USC and Scott Gwara, USC professor of English and comparative literature, along with guest lecturer Professor Eric J. Johnson, curator of early books and manuscripts at the Ohio State University, who brought along 8 codices (books) and 40 fragments from his institution for study. In the class, I discovered that beyond the beauty of these illuminated books, there is much to learn–even from a single page of text.

Professors Scott Gwara and Eric Johnson show fragments of medieval manuscripts to the class. (Photograph by Anne Causey)

The Basics

Professor Johnson started us off with a discussion of parchment. Parchment (or, “vellum”) is treated animal skin, and was the dominant surface for writing from the fourth century C. E. to the fourteenth century C. E.

Making parchment was a planned process – “not an afterthought,” he said. It could take eight to 16 weeks. One has to kill the animal, drain the blood, soak it in water and lime; set the skin on a herse (frame) and with a curved blade and gloves strip away the flesh side and “pull off as much hair and gunk as possible.” The uneven sheet that is left can be cut into regular pieces

You’ll see lots of imperfections in the skin, Johnson pointed out. The hair and flesh side are easy to distinguish: the hair side has lots of follicles and is rougher. There may be sewing holes that were elongated and repaired on the herse, or round holes that came from a wound or insect bite. “The saggy bits,” such as the neck, shoulders and belly, become translucent and are sometimes wrinkled.

You can determine man-made damage such as cuts and scrapes, or ink that burned through from the letters, or there may be elemental damage – extreme temperatures can cause parchment to be brittle and brown.

There are other things to look for as well. What kind of quill did the scribe use – small bird or large? What is the pricking and ruling like? What kind of ink ? Was it lampblack (not as good for parchment) or was it oak gall mixed with sap? Are visible differences due to a change in the ink or the introduction of a different scribe? Are there scribal errors and corrections – eye skip errors, erasures, insertions?

“This is text under the text – every last bit of manuscript has gone through a craft process,” Johnson said. By studying a manuscript’s physical characteristics and comparing it to other examples, we learned, you can determine how and when it was produced. He suggested that when teaching to undergraduates, you might even pair fragments with incunables (the earliest printed books, from about 1450 to 1501) as well as books from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

The Unexpected Beauty of Fragments

In the class, we discussed and reviewed Bibles, books of hours, breviaries and psalters. We had ample time for hands-on examination, which we did in pairs. Surprisingly, the category Eric Johnson is most excited about? Fragments! And not even the “prettiest” fragments at that.

The dirtier they are, the better – it means they have been used a lot and they have a lot to say—undergrads have a huge opportunity to access them.

Look at your manuscripts – fragments with many hands [multiple scribes] and imperfections. They are really great places to learn. You can pass them around and give students a chance for the tactile experience.

Professor Johnson talks to the class about a fragment of a medieval manuscript.

Students from South Carolina, North Carolina, New York, Michigan, and Virginia study fragments of medieval manuscripts during class. (Photograph by Anne Causey)

Sometimes fragments come about because someone has broken apart a medieval manuscript. Breaking books is a problem for many reasons – including the fact that pages lose their context. People often want the decorated pieces to frame as artwork and don’t care about the text or meaning. However, the undecorated fragments have much to say to us, Johnson said:

Studying them is not so much about coming up with the right answer but coming up with answers to help us interact with a book.

Returning Home, Energized!

Afterward the course ended, I wanted to rush back to the Albert & Shirley Small Special Collections Library and immediately begin examining our fragments! Besides our thirty more-or-less complete medieval manuscript codices, there are 235 fragments in the Rosenthal Medieval Manuscript Collection alone. These date from the ninth century C. E. on, and some of the fragments are unidentified and undated. Just what I needed!

Unidentified fragment from the Rosenthal Medieval Manuscripts Collection. (MSS 9772. Photograph by Anne Causey)

The Rosenthal manuscripts were purchased in 1972. The collection contains no pre-800 manuscripts because they are so rare and expensive; interestingly, a note in the collection indicates that just one of these earlier fragments would have cost almost as much as the entire collection. Most of the fragments are vellum, though some later leaves are paper; many were reused as covers for archival bundles or book bindings and show traces of use such as fading, stains, cut edges, remains of glue, and pen and ink scrawls.

There is nothing identifying the fragment, so we must examine it for clues. You will notice the black ink written in the middle–down the “spine.” That was likely added later when the fragment was used to rebind a book. On the right side of the fragment, there is a wrinkled pattern, and it is slightly translucent–probably what Professor Johnson referred to as the “saggy bits,” either from a shoulder or neck of the animal. On the far right edge, you can see holes that were probably prickings made to help rule the page for the scribe. (MSS 9772. Photograph by Anne Causey)

The Rosenthal Collection is not the only place to find medieval fragments at the Small Special Collections Library. There are 20+ manuscript fragments in the Atcheson Hench Collection.

I look forward to using all I learned regularly in my job, whether it’s assisting researchers and students in the reading room or teaching undergraduates how to start understanding these beautiful artifacts.

This amazing course was FREE, underwritten by sponsors in South Carolina, including The Humanities Council of South Carolina, Irvin Department of Rare Books and Special Collections, College of Arts and Sciences, and the Department of English at USC. Also, Scott James Gwara, professor of English and comparative literature at USC, was a most generous host who added his knowledge of Latin and medieval manuscripts to the class.