Library of Congress
Thursday, September 29, 2011
"Just because I can" part 1
By Ray Nichols
The Chesapeake Chapter of the American Printing History Association and the William Morris Society / U.S. co-sponsored a talk by William & Sylvia Peterson about their recent book on the Census of the Kelmscott Chaucer, but more on that later.
My son, Tray, and I, given the drive from Newark, Delaware, thought we would make a day of the Library of Congress given that we needed to be there later in the afternoon. The day had three goals.
First, we wanted to see the actual printing of "X-ing a Paragrab" by Edgar Allan Poe, first published in the May 12, 1849 issue of Flag of our Union. We at Lead Graffiti want to reprint it as a small, fine press book. The story has a strong typographic theme to it and we think it will be an absolute blast to print. We wanted to see exactly how the text was typeset, comparing things like spacing before and after colons, em dashes versus other options, typeface, etc. No one seemed to be able to locate it, but we have our "top men" working on it (read that line in the tone of voice from Raiders of the Lost Ark). Actually, it's "top women."
Second, we wanted to try out the Rare Book Reading Room so we renewed our readers cards and headed to the room.
Third, we were going to get up-to-date on who has all of the Kelmscott Chaucers later that afternoon.
Now, I know all that talk about "This is your library" and all. Honestly, I wasn't sure it was actually MINE. Tray and I went in with a list of three books to test out their "truth in advertising" at the Rare Book Reading Room.
After looking up the books in the card catalog, I got cold feet. One of the books I wanted was Hypnerotomachia Poliphili printed in 1499 by the renowned Aldus Manutius. It seems like this would be a pretty expensive book and I decided to double check with the nice lady at the RBRR front desk just to make sure I wasn't going to be thrown in jail for asking for it. I took the whole drawer with the card in it and set it on the desk and pointed at the card and asked, "If I say I want to see this book, you are actually going to let me see it?"
She had a strange look to her eyes, brows dropped a bit, as if I had asked my question in some rare dialect. I paused about 5 seconds and when she didn't answer I decided that the question was indeed stupid and that jail, or no jail, I was at least going to ask to see it. Tray and I turned in our list that also included Eusebius, with what I believe is the first roman typeface, and La Operina, which we had seen in a talk about books on teaching calligraphy at a Chesapeake Chapter meeting two years ago.
Our requests were dropped at the desk. The lady looked at the list, took a deep breath as if to debate whether to call security or simply throw the request in the trash, and told us to have a seat at one of the six central tables. We were the only readers so we slipped in quietly, took a seat, waited, and talked about how cool this was.
A few minutes later out came Eusebius. The type was stunning. You can read about how Jenson had type down pretty well and looking at it live says the same thing, except in a tone of voice that is carved in stone in really nice lettering. Dan DeSimone happened to come in and walked over and sat with us for a while. We weren't sure if he was double checking that we had indeed washed our hands before entering the room. I told him about my concerns about going to jail and he reiterated the "It's your library" line. Hmmm.
After giving Eusebius 45 minutes (next time we'll bring a loupe if they'll let us use it), I walked it back to the desk. I didn't want to actually set it down so I waited and handed it directly to the librarian. She handed me the Hypnerotomachia. I was actually starting to believe the advertising. Ahhh, looking at the illustrations in one of the earliest printed books to use illustration. Manutius. Us. The book. I felt a bit like I wasn't in the 21st Century any more.
Next came La Operina. Last fall we had printed a thin book for an an exhibition of Leonard Baskin and we had used some Arrighi. The connection felt good.
So, why tell you all of this?
First, is that if you are in the Washington, D.C. area and interested in printing and you don't go to the Rare Book Reading Room at least every other month, you are seriously missing out on some first hand experiences that are worth their weight in very old paper.
If you don't have a card, you can get that in Room 140 in the Madison Building. Takes about 5 minutes.
The second reason is "Just because I can."
"Just because I can" part 2
By Mark Dimunation
While we were looking at the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, Mark Dimunation, Chief of Rare Books at the Library of Congress, came in and got a cart with three large books on it.
Mark saw Tray and I sitting with the Manutius book and walked over noticing instantly what we were looking at even thought the book was upside down to him and we weren't on a particulary distinctive page.
Tray and I exchanged a look between us correctly noting that we had picked some cool books to look at. Mark said he was in there to pick up the copies of the Library's copies of the Kelmscott Chaucer. He said someone had asked for two copies.
He said he was bringing three to the talk. "Why 3 and not 2?" you might ask.
His reply was, "Just because I can."
"The Kelmscott Chaucer Census"
By William & Sylvia Peterson
While now printed more than 100 years ago, the Kelmscott Chaucer was the printing monument from William Morris and the Kelmscott Press.
The following description of The Kelmscott Chaucer was borrowed from the British Library website.
The Kelmscott Chaucer set a new benchmark for book design at the end of the 19th century. It was also the last great project of Morris’ life, bringing together two of his passions. First, his love of medieval literature, which inspired the subjects and style of much of his own writing. Second, his socialist philosophy, which looked back to a time before mechanisation and division of labour had destroyed, as he saw it, the personal fulfilment and social function of meaningful work.
The book was exceptional in its ambitious number of illustrations and rich decorative borders. “If we live to finish it,” Burne-Jones wrote, “it will be like a pocket cathedral – so full of design and I think Morris the greatest master of ornament in the world.”
How was the book made?
Morris and Burne-Jones worked on the book for four years. Early in 1892, two trial pages were set in one of Morris’ types, called ‘Troy’. The results were not satisfactory, the problem being the type size. A smaller version of the same design was cut, and christened ‘Chaucer’. Morris had intended to begin designs for the decorative borders immediately, but illness prevented him from starting until a year later.
Meanwhile, Edward Burne-Jones spent every Sunday on the book’s 87 illustrations, working long hours in fear that Morris might die before the project was finished. His pencil drawings were painted over in Chinese white and Indian ink by R. Catterson-Smith, whose interpretive role is often overlooked. The black and white designs were then transferred to wooden blocks and engraved by William Harcourt Hooper.
On seeing the first copy, Burne-Jones wrote: “When Morris and I were little chaps at Oxford, if such a book had come out then we should have just gone off our heads, but we have made at the end of our days the very thing we would have made then if we could.’
William Peterson guided us through the history of the printing of The Kelmscott Chaucer, providing wonderful stories to connect all of the personalities involved and with lots of illustrations.
Sylvia described the census in which they list approximately two-thirds of what was advertised as 13 vellum copies and 425 on paper. One of the exciting pieces of information was that Sylvia and William had located an additional 2 vellum copies. They explained that printing on vellum is a difficult process and likely the Kelmscott Press would have printed additional copies as a guarantee to get the 13. In the end there must have been enough to add to the inventory.
Mark Dimunation, Chief of Rare Books at the Library of Congress introduces our guest speakers in the Rosenwald Room.
We had a standing room only crowd as William Peterson began his talk.
Sylvia Peterson shows a listing of the geographical location of The Chaucers.
William & Sylvia Peterson taking on questions that started to sound like they would go into the evening.
William Peterson talking with chapter member Roland Hoover.
Mark Dimunation (far right), Chief of Rare Books & Manuscripts at the Library of Congress, is always a gracious and knowledgable host.
Sylvia Peterson talking with one of the attendees.
Marilyn Ibach, from the prints and photographs department at the Library of Congress, talks with Chapter member Mark Samuels Lasner.
Tray Nichols and Chris Manson probably talking about wood type.
Greg Robison appears to making his point well to Nicholas Scheetz, Manuscripts Library, Special Collections, Georgetown University Library.
Roland Hoover, Mike Denker and Jackie Coleburn.
Eric Frazier, Reference Librarian Rare Book and Special Collections Division, and Mark Dimunation talk with attendees about the books. It was a special treat to view one of the 15 known vellum copies of the Kelmscott Chaucer seen in the foreground.
Casey Smith, Mike Denker, Roland Hoover, Chris Manson, and Tray Nichols.
Jackie Coleburn and Dan De Simone
William & Sylvia Peterson and three of the Kelmscott Chaucers: one vellum copy and two paper copies, with one of the paper copies still in the original Dove Press binding.
The Kelmscott Chaucer Census is available for $95 through Oak Knoll Books in New Castle, Delaware.
Photos and story by Ray Nichols.
