There’s always a present that I find myself working on at the last minute. This year it was a gift–actually, several gifts–for my niece, my nephew, and my nephew’s girlfriend, a delightful young woman who appreciates a handmade gift (I hope).

Simple stuff, but I’m pleased with how they came out. Each got a set of Japanese stab-bound journals, one each in folio and quarto size:

I finished these just in time to wrap them up and get them into the mail, and I used up the last of some wonderful kraft paper cardstock making them. But as soon as the smoke clears and I can find another source for the heavy brown cardstock, the Japanese screw punch and waxed linen thread are coming right back out again so I can make some more.

This book was given to me in payment for the recovering of the science book recently posted in installments here. It is a small  160 x 100 x 16mm volume in mottled and heavily worn calfskin, with gold tooling around the edge of each cover and decoration on the spine.

It has marbled endpapers in the Gloster style.

The last section is lightly torn and strained giving the appearance of some of the pages being loose, but it is still firmly bound. The headbands are ‘proper’ sewn headbands, not false ones glued on. You can tell this by the broadness of the stitches and a just visible second row beneath.

The corners are knocked in a bit, and there is a little foxing of the pages and a very strong ‘old book’ smell. Why is it that some books are more pungent than others?

It has been well-printed, if a little heavily impressed, with generous margins and a running header between rules that give a brief outline of each page:

There is quite a bit of ink transfer from the engravings, giving each of the chapter pages a lightly stained reflected ‘ghosts.’

Golly, after that lengthy description, let’s see what we can make of the type. At first, I was fairly sure that this was set in Caslon. It’s about the right timescale, and the quality of the letters a, g  & b all seem to fit the pattern compared with a modern Adobe digital font:

I didn’t think too much about it until I began looking at some of the italic set at the beginning of each of the four seasonal ‘chapters.’ In particular, ‘k’ and ‘y’:

I guess this may be something that has been developed out of the original cut of the typeface over the years, or possibly, this could be set in an earlier typeface, probably one of the the Fell Types that were prevalent in the years leading up to this. Both  characters in the examples I found on the internet were both of the same style of the Adobe Caslon examples. The lower case ‘p’ also did not conform to my comparative samples.

Another look through my type files mostly gave up more examples and variations of what I already had found, with all of my ‘Old Style’ (read modern interpretations of Old Style) faces falling into the same pattern. I broadened my search and found something with similar characteristics; ITC Century, this version designed by Tony Stan (American Typewriter, Cheltenham) in 1975.  

Whilst there are one or two irregularities in other characters, this matches those original ‘k’ and ‘y’ shapes I was looking for. This will probably be an ongoing investigation, as they say in the movies. If anyone can identify these typeface exactly, and provide examples, I would be very, very grateful…

This book is a seventh edition, published in 1803. The book was originally published in 1800, but written during 1796-98 (the comment above refers to a letter he received prior to publication and is on the first page of the preface.)  Oddly enough, the book was turned down by a number of publishers and eventually passed on by his son to a barrister who revisited it and arranged for the woodcut illustrations, and got it published. It was reprinted three times in the first year, and by the seventh edition three years later, had sold 30,000 copies; a publishing sensation that echoes the the kind of modern success seen by the likes of J.K Rowling. Bearing in mind that in 1800, about 45% of men and 25% of women had some degree of literacy (please note that these figures were calculated from the ability of individuals to sign their names in the marriage registers!) but very few had the spare cash to buy books.

The woodcut illustrations were by Thomas Bewick, an accomplished ornithographer and wildlife illustrator and are very fine. Strangely, the first illustration is signed (the only one that is) as Thurston, another well-known engraver of the time, but I have found very little reference to this piece in any of the Bewick or Thurston online sources.

I have included super macro shot of the signature (which is in the bottom left of the image above) against a ruler showing millimetre increments to show the scale and finesse of the work:

Each season begins with an appropriate vignette of rural life, and has other incidental images throughout:

On the title page, the publishers credit reads:

PRINTED FOR VERNOR AND HOOD, POULTRY;
AND LONGMAN AND REES, PATERNOSTER ROW;
by James Swan, Angle Street, Newgate Street.
1803.

Again, I’ve tried a quick internet search to get some background on Vernor and Hood, but come up with little, except that Thomas Hood had a very interesting life and conducted a lot of business from his sickbed! Longman and Rees came up with a few more, but nothing to regale you with here. James Swan, the printer I hoped for more. The surname of the person who gave me this book is Swann, and it would have given me great pleasure to furnish him with some interesting historic facts about his namesake. I didn’t find much but did get this:

SWAN, James, printer, 7, Haberdasher’s Walk, Hoxton 1802H; 4, Angel Street, Newgate Street 1802-04; 76, Fleet Street 1804-05; Crown Court, (71), Fleet Street 1807; 76, Fleet Street 1809-29. Trading: with William Darton 1799; alone 1802-07; as Swan and son 1809-1819R; as James Swan 1820R-1829. Firm prob. established by Robert Swan 1748. Produced many broadsides, pamphlets and tracts. Crown Court office destroyed by fire with a loss of £2,000 above his insurance 20 Aug. 1807. Registered presses 1802, 1805. Plomer; Timperley 831; Todd; Brown.
source

A very dry account, but it does begin put a story to the people who printed books in the nineteenth century. Destroyed by fire? Accident or arson? How many people worked there? Under what conditions. What was their daily life like? What happened to them after the fire? I am so easily distracted.

I also like the history of individual books; the marks, notes and repairs they accumulated during their lifetimes. Towards the back, just before the Winter chapter there is a name written in pencil; Scott Abbott, I think it reads. Given the style this is written in, I am guessing that it is early nineteenth century. It is very faded, but the image below gives an accurate copy.

Again, who was he? What gave him to sign his name with such a flourish? Why that page and no other? More stories…

On the inside of the back endpaper there is a mysterious  inscription: R + m + y and nothing else. I really love this.

I have not researched this academically and admit that there are likely to be errors. If anyone can shed further light on any of the points covered in this post, please let me know.

Once upon a time, when I was the creative writing assistant for a high school summer arts program, I learned from Jennifer Hill that you don’t just have to read, write or shelve books. You can create them from scratch or reinvent them altogether.

In the class, we learned how to create our own books by folding paper, painting covers and tons more. I became very much the student, eager to know more. Books were no longer a means to an end. The form became the expression. Hmm. I think I know what I mean by that. I’ll try to step away from the flowery language and instead blog about some super cool handmade books.

One method I love is buying an old, hard cover book for about two cents at a library book sale, gutting it then sewing together a signature of blank pages and gluing it in for a one of a kind journal. I did this with a paperback Sweet Valley High book and made a travel journal for Jason, my navigator, to record our every thought during our trip to hateful Connecticut and its Holy Land.

You see?

The navigator's illegible yet steadfast memoirs

Still, hard covers are far more awesome. Some people are appalled at the concept of destroying a book, but it’s not like it’s Fahrenheit 451 up in here. Are you going to read #48 – Slam Book Fever? Well, if you’re me, you might. It’s a good place to write stuff that will remain hidden from snoopy people who would never dream to look in an SVH book. Anyway, I, like native ancestors, use all the parts of the book — with a little glue, some picture scraps and some poignant text, the insides become art as well:

Who knew SVH could be deep?

The livejournal community Handmade Book Community offers book artists lots of ideas and assistance with their creations, and proves that books don’t even have to be made of paper:

@ http://community.livejournal.com/handmadebooks/705441.html

More fun homemade book ideas like the following can be found at My Handbound Books:

To learn how to sew a book signature, visit Daydreaming on Paper, which has a step-by-step tutorial with helpful pictures!

Today we’ve finished the cutting of all 336 pages. Last 48 pages still needs to be sewed.

Today we sewed eight signatures, that is 96 pages in total. These sheets were previously cut so the process was faster and for our surprise we’ve finished the job sooner than expected. Still at the end of the day everybody were tired so we left the last pages for the following day.

Oooh this was so much fun to make, just a different use for the many mini books I have been making lately. Demand has been really high at the craft fairs but people definitely want choices so I am making loads more, if they dont all sell then its more for xmas stockings.

The semester is practically over at Wellesley College, which means that the gallery will close until the spring semester starts up in the last week of January.  Over the break, we’re having the gallery re-painted which will get us off to a great start for the second half of the gallery season.  We’ll be back in January with the student photography exhibition “Look at Me”. The show will be curated, selected and designed by Christine Rogers’ Fall 2009 Photography ARTS208 class. The various projects in this diverse class create an exhibition that is divided into three related categories: “People”, “Changing Perspectives” and “Reality vs. Pretense”.

Photo by Julie Aguilera

At the same time, the spring semester will also feature a terrific line up of free Applied Arts Workshops: Digital Photography with Judith Black, Ceramic Mosaics with Kate Oggel, Japanese Bento Boxes with Anna The Red, Storyboards with Alex Hart, Sculptural Weaving with Nathalie Miebach, Photoshop: Photo Retouching with Alex Hart, and Coptic Bookbing with Katherine McCanless Ruffin.

Upcoming Applied Arts Workshop Japanese Bento Boxes with Anna The Red

Today we were short on helping hands so we decided to do just cutting and folding the sheets but not sewing them as that requires more people. Out plan was to finish 7 signatures, instead we’ve done 8. That’s 96 pages!

Progress: 288 cut (85%), 192 sewed out of 336.

Just got the heads up that our talented friend Athena has just restocked her etsy store. If you’re looking for a great holiday gift, her hand-bound journals are the perfect choice. You never have to worry about getting somebody a book they already read if it doesn’t have any words in it!

For those that prefer their books to include printed content, stay on the lookout for an Applescruffs/Repeat Press collaboration in the future.

This is the third Buttercup Bag I have made for Christmas. This one has a custom Coptic stitch notebook to go with it. I made three of these notebooks with various cards and plan to make nine more to sell after Christmas. Likewise, I will probably sell some Buttercup Bags after I buy a license.

This bag was made for someone who travels a lot and likes to golf and entertain, so it has summery, fun sort of fabrics. I can see her using it on the golf course or while shopping or going to the beach. I like this particular size and find it big enough, quite roomy actually because the pleats allow for some expansion.

I keep some lip balm and breath spray in the pocket of mine, and there’s still room for other stuff in that pocket without straining it.

And this is an update on the abstract French knot rug I am making for my second dollhouse Skye Cottage. I have taken a snap of it in the room it’s going in with the daybed and wooden chair that I am going to paint eventually with decorative motifs. The daybed will be reupholstered and new pillows sewn and painted for the abstract art theme.

I am hoping to get the final wallpaper I need for this house and spend the Christmas holidays wallpapering it finally after ten years.

The floor in this room was gessoed, sponged and stencilled ten years ago, so it’s ready to be finished hopefully in the next few weeks.

Another update showing some of the notebooks I have been making. I can’t show them full frontal until the people who are getting them recieve their gifts. I love the stitching on these, I hand-dye my linen thread and it gives such lovely gradations when sewn.

Multumim tuturor ca ne-au ajutat sa intram in vacanta cu sperante si implinire. Multumim ca ati fost alaturi de noi in acest an si ca veti fi si in continuare placut impresionati de lucrarile noastre.  Asteptam din partea voastra orice sfaturi, impresii si va promitem sa aducem ceva nou  intotdeauna.

Va trimitem un glob “pentagon” cusut  si un bradut, sa va impodobeasca locuinta!

Sarbatori fericite!

With the Holiday gift giving season just weeks away I have been tinkering in my toy shop making goodies for family and friends. One of my very best customers, and closest relatives, has a Jules Verne collection that he has been cultivating for many years now. For Christmas I thought it appropriate to gift an early 1900’s edition of 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea to him.

Any Verne collector knows the rarity and cost of early editions of the most popular of his titles. Finding a collectible 20,000 Leagues would be very pricey but this collector has found several rebindable editions that are not only of collectible significance but are beautiful stock for rebinding. Once they have been cleaned up and rebound the finished books are very desirable. An example of this is the copy of Mistress Branican I rebound for him pictures on the blog two months ago.

This copy of 20,000 Leagues was in very good shape with some lovely engravings throughout. Although the covers were not falling off they had been so rubbed as to be thread bear and dry. I disbound the book and rebacked it. I then added a set of cream end sheets and compass print paper paste downs. The cover was half bound in Italian leather and marbled paper. I set the marbled paper horizontally so as to give the sense of waves and added minimal design to the leather. I added a shell blind to the terminals of the spine bands and a golden compass/burst stamp to the spine. I used red got for the title plate. I finished the whole project with a matching slipcase that also shows a piece of the original cover with engraving.

Now the cover is dry, it’s time for a dry fitting to make sure my measurements were right. They weren’t. This time the air turned another shade of blue:

Sometimes I get cocky and don’t check things as I progress. Clearly a case of not practising what I preach. I was a few short millimetres out so the foredge of the pages protuded slightly beyond the ’square’ of the cover:

There was no alternative but to make another cover. I added a couple of millimetres to the spine and cover boards to gain the extra I needed, and moved on to attach the endpapers. These are the sheets of often decorative paper that disguises the attachment of the book and its cover. I used some beautiful hand marbled antique paper I bought from Falkiners whilst I was in London the other week.  Here’s a close-up to show the colours and texture.

The endpapers consist of a folded sheet that is twice the width of the pages. First it is attached to the book by a thin (approx 5mm) strip of glue up against the fold, directly to the title page and put under a little pressure for about 10 minutes. Same at the back.

Then a layer of glue is applied to the back of the endpaper and scrim that will be attached to the cover. This has to be done carefully. I use pages of a magazine inserted beneath the endpaper to catch any excess glue. Don’t want to stick the pages together!

Carefully, the book is positioned into the (new) cover and the spine is pressed up against it firmly. A quick visual check at this point to see if there is equal space top and bottom.

The cover is carefully lowered onto the glued endpaper and pressed into place by hand.  Open gently and smooth any wrinkles or bubbles with a bonefolder. Turn over and repeat on the back.

Out to the press now. After putting some felt on the base and a couple of J-cloths on top to prevent any marks transferring from the press, the book was slipped into place, with only about 15mm clearance.

A goodly amount of pressure was applied and it was off to clear up.

The next day and here it is.

When the dark blue cover is opened, you are met by a riot of russets, pinks, yellows and black! I’m glad this went well as I only bought one sheet of this paper!

The original colour of the endpapers is a pale pink and provides a transitional colour stage before the yellowed book pages themselves.

All done. It’s not perfect, but I have made a durable working cover that should protect this book for a good few years more.

Pictorial Webster’s: Inspiration to Completion from John Carrera on Vimeo.

John Townsend has agreed to guest post, expanding the discussion about book conservation education.  John truly needs no introduction; simply put, he is a leader in our field. I’m thrilled he has written this piece–sharing stories about his education, providing philosophic reflections on the ontological status of the book and speculating about the future of book conservation education.

John Townsend  owns and operates Anonymous Bookbinder, a small hand-bookbinding and conservation workshop in upstate New York.  Most recently active in information technology, digital information access and related fields, he is also a librarian with a broad background and extensive experience in conservation and preservation, and he has been a bookbinder for over thirty years.

He began his professional career as head of the Conservation Lab at the New York Public Library after graduating in the first class of Columbia University’s Library Conservation and Preservation Program. He has also served as head of the NY State Conservation/Preservation Program, and as a preservation planning and evaluation consultant for SOLINET, the Northeast Document Conservation Center (NEDCC), the National Library of Indonesia, the World Bank Global Environmental Facility, and for many other organizations and institutions.  Immediately prior to starting Anonymous Bookbinder he was executive director of the New York State Higher Education Initiative.

John writes:

I read Jeff’s recent blog post on US/UK education, etc. and thought it right on target, or “spot on” as they say over there.   And I think he pretty much captured my feeling about where we are all headed, but want to expand upon his thoughts and explore some other issues.

My Columbia University education was perhaps unique because I was headed for the conservator’s bench before I arrived, but ultimately came out on the administrator side of the program.  Columbia was my fifth year of graduate school, which is four too many for any sane person, so the administrative program made sense to me.  By then I had done the usual 70’s thing of picking up what I could when and where in terms of craft skills, including a vastly informative but functionally useless stint at a commercial bindery.  I already had a library degree as well, which meant that much of what happened academically on the conservator side of the Columbia program would have been redundant, at least as it was structured at the time—it has evolved considerably.  I really wanted a third year internship, but Paul Banks was not willing to consider it.  Before Columbia came along, I considered staying in DC for an internship with Frank Mowery & Karen Garlick at the Folger, but my DC teachers–Merrily Smith,a paper conservator and Newberry protege of Paul’s, along with Tom Albro and Robert Espinosa–urged me to at least do the administrator program for the credentials and then decide.  For once I took good advice when it was offered.

It turned out better than I expected since all of us (administrator and conservators students) did labs together with Gary Frost that first year and he was amenable to letting me pretty much live there.  He also let me live for a while in his apartment the following summer while he was away and I was waiting for a job, and he left me a key to the lab so I could use it whenever I wanted, which was all the time.  Lynn Jones and I were also working for the Columbia Library part time on an NEH preservation project encapsulating brittle books–pre-Minter welder.  The NYPL job followed that, which was pretty much the only book conservation job available anywhere at the time, although more jobs were quickly created.

So, I was extremely lucky in my pre-Columbia experience and what I managed to squeeze out of Paul and Gary while there.  As far as I know, no other student in the administrator program managed anything quite like it.

My thoughts on the state of things now and the future education of conservators are obviously colored by all this, as well as by my time at NYPL and my subsequent time “on the dark side” (the IT and digital side) as George Farr used to call it.  Jeff is correct, I think, in saying that the shift in book conservation education mirrors the change in the social role of books.  I remember very clearly pondering long and hard about the book question when NYPL was preparing for the transition to its online catalog.  Online catalogs had been around for a good while by then, but it was also at the time that the personal computer was taking off and many of us were beginning to see where the creation, storage and means of accessing information were headed. It was always clear to me (or so I thought) that the book (codex) would be around for a very long time, but I was also certain that this was separate from the question of how we access information.  Not “separated by necessity”, but that they could be separated and were on the verge of being separated in practice.  I was also reading–and ultimately becoming disgusted with–Heidegger on the question of technology at the time, which is probably neither here nor there, but it seemed relevant at the time.

Just before going to Columbia I had read E. Eisenstein’s “The Printing Press as an Agent of Change.”  I found it tedious in the extreme, but in terms of the social role of the book she is dead right, and what she says applies equally well to the rise of digital information.  Specifically, she says that the advent of the printing press changed forever the way we managed the collection, dissemination, standardization, organization, and preservation of information.  Any success I had on “the dark side” came from understanding that this is precisely where we stood with the digital revolution–it was going to change exactly these same things, and change them as fundamentally and profoundly as had the printing press.

So where does that leave the book and book conservation?  I believe the codex remains a viable and extremely useful technology, bastardized though it is in its current incarnation, and that it is likely to persist in common use for a very long time, even if books no longer serve as the primary vehicles for the collection, dissemination, standardization, organization, and preservation of information. I don’t believe they have ceased these functions yet, and I’m not sure I will live to see it, but it is possible to conceive of.  And possibly the nagging problems of digital preservation and access will someday be resolved.  If and when that happens I also believe that collections of books (codices) will take on a new value and the need, the desire and cultural urge to preserve them can only increase.  This is a still nascent thought and I’m not sure where it will end up, but for now it suggests to me a “museum” function, where books are preserved as artifacts but—just as in a well run “special collection” in a library–with an acknowledgment that the value of the codex cannot be isolated from its functional aspects.  That is, the codex is not a static entity–physically or intellectually–and it must be used/useful/useable in some way in order to maintain its value.  Otherwise it is simply an “object” taking up space and collecting dust.

If this imagined “museum function” for collections of books–or something like it–does come about, then the role of the book conservator may perhaps become even more similar to the role of the museum conservator.  But I hope not–there is no need for a “book” conservator if the book becomes an object only and it functional aspects embalmed or ignored.

To reply directly to one of the questions Jeff raised, the preservation of the craft skills of bookbinding must–absolutely–be preserved as an essential part of the training of a book conservator–even including how to cut paper with scissors (I loved that!).  I have often thought that too much effort has gone into trying to make book conservators like their art conservator counterparts.  I think it was a matter of prestige more than anything, and may have been necessary in its time to legitimize and establish the profession, but I think in some ways it exacerbated the loss of what little remained of the craft/trade bookbinding skills the US.  There wasn’t a lot left by the 70’s when I was first seeking it out (or not much I could get to).  The tradition and skills here were never as robust as in the UK and Germany, but much of what there was we let slip away while we were focused on “higher” learning.  This is not to say that book conservators should not be trained as thoroughly as art conservators–they should–but they should also be trained as bookbinders.  If the “museum function” I think I foresee for book collections does emerge, then such training will be essential.

Alas, with our tradition (such as it was) gone and with the UK and German traditional craft beginning to fade–albeit with a very lively and vital heritage still in evidence– the question of how to preserve and transmit craft skills is just as troublesome now as it was to me in the 70’s.

I was Camberwell-bound before I decided to first get library school behind me and take advantage of what I could find in DC.  Ironically, I would probably be in the same position if I were starting from the same place today, although I expect I’d give North Bennet Street School or American Academy of Bookbinding a try before heading overseas.  There are certainly more opportunities for study in the US now, but for the most part they are even further removed for the tradition of craft skills–notable exceptions notwithstanding, including the AAB and most anything else Don Etherington is associated with.  Like Jeff mentioned in the previous post, I am afraid  too many of these skills have gotten away from us before we have figured out how to preserve them.  So recovering these skills is perhaps all we can hope for–digging them out of old books, out of old-timers, and in many cases reinventing them.  And, of course, passing them on in whatever venue presents itself–in writing, by demonstration–whatever (reality show, perhaps?!).

I am somewhat surprised that I have come to think that the much maligned workshop will prove to be the most durable vehicle for transmitting key aspects of the craft.   Many of the brickbats hurled at resumes laden with workshop-only experience are, I think, really intended to signal that workshops do not equal skill or proficiency.  Of course they don’t–only repetition and experience and some natural ability can build skill.  But as a vehicle for delivering information about a craft, workshops work exceeding well. Better, I expect than the old apprenticeship where the first two years were spent doing nothing but sweeping and fetching for the guy who only wanted to make sure you were as miserable as he was when he was doing it.  And other than workshops, what else do we have?

Unrelated to bookbinding, I learned timber-framing in a one week workshop them managed to gain some measure of skill when I used that information to put up a shop building at our home site, and went on to become a fairly accomplished framer (if I do say so) while building a house which still stands and where I still live almost 20 years later.  It’s also solar powered—same drill: one week workshop, to trial photovoltaic system in the shop, to fully functional system in the house.

I do not believe it is reasonable to assume that bookbinding is any more complex, or that the basic skill set cannot also be acquired in a similar manner.  And if book conservator training programs as we have known since the 80’s go away, then what choices do we have?   The UK may be good for a while (a long while I expect), and NBSS, AAB and the like will probably be viable sources of conservation training for a while longer, although even now they seem mainly supported by the bookbinding/ book arts community.

But if the cause of the demise of training is an underlying social change in the collection, dissemination, standardization, organization and preservation of information, then the tradition out of which book conservation grew will become more and more remote, and the skills more rarefied.  The transmission of the craft will then have to rely on the desire and the urge of those who know– and I mean “those who know” (really know) not just those who are fascinated and think they know–it will rely on their willingness to pass on what they know to the few who are interested and willing to commit to learning it.  An ancient model, to be sure, but perhaps the only thing that has ever really worked for the parts of what we do that are dependent on craft.

So the old workshop, seminar, “intensive,” or whatever they are called seems to me the most likely way to insure that the knowledge and the craft that needs to persist, will persist, and that as a result the codex–however unusual it becomes–will also persist as a functional object.

Of course I am probably wrong about everything–I would be surprised if it were otherwise–but it is not possible to think about such things without speculating once in a while about what they mean and where we are headed.  Perhaps the next time I reflect upon them, I will think differently.  Or not.

John Townsend

Anonymous Bookbinder

Sharon Springs, NY

www.anonymousbookbinder.com

We Love Your Books included my submission for the Closure exhibition this year which I was really thrilled about. It was great to be included in such a diverse range of bookworks, a great show. The next theme is ‘Emotive’. But it’s giving me problems. I can choose from the letter E, Motive, or Emotive, and I need to choose soon so that I can begin work on the book. But it’s difficult for some reason.
I’ll have to stop mooching about it and get some ideas trapped into a sketch book. In the meantime I’m going to have another look at all the gorgeous bindings on the Society of Bookbinders site.

There’s a fab article hidden behind the Chronicle of Higher Education paywall:

Some years ago, Terry Belanger found a striking way to reveal the reverence that many citizens of the digital age continue to feel for old books. It is a sentiment he finds fascinating but only rarely appropriate or useful. Belanger, who retired in September as director of an educational institute called Rare Book School but who continues to teach there, brings an old volume to class, speaks about its binding and typography, and then, still discussing the book, rips it in half and tears it into pieces. As his horrified students watch in disbelief, Belanger tosses the shards into a nearby trash can and murmurs, “Bibliography isn’t for sissies.”

—The Book Mechanic: A modern sensibility binds Terry Belanger to old, rare volumes, by Andrew Witmer (Chronicle Review 41, December 6, 2009).

(Via Guy, who got it from @roncharles)

Photo: Split binding by Spotrick / Steve Thomas; some rights reserved.