Entry #20

• Dawar, Anil and Kennedy, Maev.  (2009)  "British Library Mislays 9,000 Books."  The Guardian.
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/2nkyoZZ

This is an article I stumbled across while beginning some research into library security.  And how does a title like this not grab your eye?  9,000 books?  Missing??

The British Library reported the losses, including "Renaissance treatises on theology and alchemy, a medieval text on astronomy, first editions of 19th- and 20th-century novels, and a luxury edition of Mein Kampf produced in 1939 to celebrate Hitler’s 50th birthday."  While I wondered if this article belonged in my history log, I decided to add it because look at all that history that was lost!  The librarians place theft low on the list, listing all the usual reasons something goes missing in the little public library I work in--misplaced on shelves, something happening to the spine label, an item pulled for repair but never location never marked, or a change never actually getting saved in the catalog.  This article doesn't specify the time range these items were lost in (it does mention losses from the library's move in 1998), so I don't know what rate all this history was lost.  A spokesperson from the library security firm SA Secure remembered a small library he consulted at lost a fifth of its collection in four years.

I remember the story of Panizzi, whose entire career at the head of the British Library was spent organizing the collections.  I think of my library who converted from Dewey Decimal to WordWise.  What is the best way to properly organize and thus preserve these materials, to prevent such loss?  Or is such loss just inevitable?  (Which does seem to be the case when 650km of shelving and 150m items, that are also being moved by the millions back and forth to reading rooms, are involved.)  I wonder if digitization is one answer.  If the materials were digitized, researchers could peruse an item without it ever needing to be removed from the shelf.  Only librarians would have access, which would cut down on misplacement upon return, a location change not getting scanned, a label falling off due to constant handling, or just plain theft.

The entrance to the British Library, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons:
http://bit.ly/2nJw4fX

Entry #19

• Atkinson, Juliette.  (2013) "The London library and the circulation of French fiction in the 1840s."  Information & Culture, 48 (4), 391-418.
• A "Dig Deeper" article from Modern Libraries
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/2nEKz4q

Nineteenth century France is fascinating with all its turmoil, I think we can all agree.  Its history and its literature particularly interests me.  Alexandre Dumas is one of my favorite authors, and of course there is Victor Hugo and Jules Verne.  (Should I even mention the Marquis de Sade...?)  Yet I thought England and France weren't exactly friends during this time, so I wouldn't have imagined there would be much exchange of written works between the two countries.  Indeed, the first sentence Atkinson hits us with is "The Victorians, it is often declared, did not read French novels."

At first, the article does seem like it will be about a conflict between stereotypical-prudish Victorian English readers and stereotypical-sexual and -violent French authors with "diseased imaginations."  But Atkinson digs into Victorian society, pulling examples from sources such as library records, bookshop receipts, and letters, to get a real picture of their reading habits...and it turns out French novels were quite the hit!  One of the first things to strike me was that the 'opposition' wasn't towards French literature specifically...it was towards all fiction.  Libraries wanted to bring people into their buildings, which novels would certainly do, but librarians and scholars worried that novels would drag down readers' intelligence and morals.  One subscription library, Mudie's, even warned its patrons "“might do well to deny themselves occasionally the pleasure of using this institution as a means of enjoying cheaply the perusal of books which speedily sink into oblivion.”

Yet novels were popular regardless.  As a result, subtle and non-official encouragements towards French literature began to happen.  The English novels would be all checked out, so a desperate reader takes home the French.  English titles would be completed in one volume, so a voracious reader might choose the eight-volume Dumas title instead--and s/he would be allowed to take all eight at once because it was considered altogether.  "New" titles (as in those written in the last two years) could only be checked out for seven days.  As the imported French titles were often older than that, they could loan for longer.  All these little things stacked up to give French literature an advantage in the Victorian libraries, an advantage many of the upper-class learned didn't want at all to give it in the first place!  Yet it created a market for the novels and with that now-international popularity, surely helped Dumas, Balzac and their contemporaries achieve 'classic' status today.

Entry #18

• Croteau, Jeffrey.  (2006)  "Yet more American circulating libraries: a preliminary checklist of Brooklyn (New York) circulating libraries."  Library History, 22 (3), 171-180.
• A "Dig Deeper" article from Modern Libraries
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/2mnqdMX

At first, I thought this would just be a list of public libraries in Brooklyn, with a discussion of what we could then infer about society (social classes, immigration), from them.

My mistake was thinking that "circulating" libraries were the same as public libraries.  They were more along the line of subscription libraries, in that users would pay a fee to check out books for a set amount of time.  Brooklyn is described "a strongly literate community" in the 19th century and so had many non-profit libraries, but those often took "a civic or moral orientation" and catered to white, upper-class men.  The circulating libraries, while eventually declining, held on for the first half of the 19th century by clever marketing strategies.  They were set up in commercial areas, which helped considered how heavily they advertised to women (who were not as welcome in the public libraries).  Circulating libraries were also willing to stock whatever would get people in the door...which lead to criticism that they were "‘unabashed[ly] trafficking in ‘low’ or ‘unfit’ novels to ‘young’ and ‘impressionable’ females’."  Which an allegation that would be leveled at all libraries, eventually.

I wonder if these circulating libraries had an impact on public libraries, in widening their collections to draw in the users who weren't coming in but instead paying for the circulating libraries.  Croteau early on in the article bemoans the lack of research in this area, but that is something I would be interested in digging into.

Entry #17

• Peterson, Herman A.  (2010)  "The genesis of monastic libraries."  Libraries & the Cultural Record, 45 (3), 320-332.
• A "Dig Deeper" article from Early Libraries
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/2nYvhDV

I thought I'd like to read a little bit more on monasteries, as they seemed to have a large impact on the development of both libraries and literacy in Western society.

From the opening paragraph, I thought this would be another article on the manual process monks put themselves through when creating a book.  But Peterson instead takes a different angle, bringing to light texts (such as The Rule of Benedict and Rule of the Master) that served to instruct monks in how to best utilize their time when it came to reading.  This wasn't merely to uphold educational standards but to keep monks occupied.  As the saying goes...idle hands are the Devil's tools!  I had to laugh though at how specific the instructions were in The Rule of the Master.  The monks were told when and where to sit, so as not to have too many voices in one spot, and how many listeners should be per one speaker.  I also got a laugh out of the instructions written down by an Egyptian monk named Pachomius:

"And if he is illiterate, he shall go at the first, third, and sixth hours to someone who can teach and has been appointed for him. He shall stand before him and learn very studiously with all gratitude...even if he does not want to, he shall be compelled to read."

Don't feel like reading?  Tough!  You're gonna read anyway.

Peterson also discussed the emphasis of memorization in monasteries, which seems at odds with their written culture (as opposed to oral).  There were practical purposes to this--if a monk was called to public prayer, then there would be no hesitation--but also because it was believed that if these prayers and scriptures were memorized, then they became part of that person.  This is where the phrase "by heart" comes from, of which I had never known the origin so I found this pretty cool.

Entry #16

• Dean, Heather.  (2011)  "'The persuasion of books': The Significance of Libraries in Colonial British Columbia."  Libraries & the Cultural Record, 46 (1), 50-72.
• http://bit.ly/2mQw0HK

I stumbled across this article while looking for more information on colonial or Revolutionary-era America.  But the introduction had me hooked.  "Reading was not a passive and apolitical activity but instead had a significant impact on frontier society."  According to Dean, "Victoria's elite believed that libraries and literary pursuits would promote the respectable and reliable masculinity necessary for fostering healthy families and, by extension, a prosperous and stable colony."  This is another article that will focus on the role of literacy in society.

I found myself thinking about Lutie Stearns, who founded the traveling libraries in Wisconsin because the rural communities were lacking for literature, and of the lighthouse libraries, which were created to alleviate the isolation of the keepers.  Settlers felt the same isolation and missed the "mental food" of their home country.  Then when miners came over, they were frustrated with having "no place to which they can go to spend a leisure hour in rational enjoyment."  The higher class men who ran the territory wanted to bring libraries in then as an attempt to culture up the miners, who because of no other options, would hang out in bars and brothels.  That reminded me of Albert Meyzeek, who feared for black youth in Louisville because they had no healthy recreation or educational options, and so agitated for a YMCA and for a library.  This article was another that reiterated the role of literacy in societies, and the importance of education.

Entry #15

• Cook, Karen.  (2013)  "Struggles Within: Lura G. Currier, the Mississippi Library Commission, and Library Services to African Americans."  Information & Culture, 48 (1), 134-156.
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/2mKiLZc

For my Actio #4, I researched into the Louisville Free Public Library Western Branch, which was the first public library for African Americans and staffed by African Americans.  It was horribly fascinating to read how public libraries, self-educational institutions that should be open to everyone, tried to navigate segregation.  Often, it seemed the libraries failed.

The difference in this article from my research for the Actio is that this article focused on a white woman, Lura Currier who felt obligated to follow Mississippi Law but was morally disgusted by it.  Mississippi was the site of a bus boycott and of a library sit-in, so civil rights was a hot issue and integration was desired by many (both blacks & whites), so Currier wasn't unique in her feelings--she was unique in her position.  She was the director of the Mississippi Library Commission.  One instance that struck me was how Currier had to turn down opportunities or vote against ALA movements that would bar segregated libraries, as she did not want to disavow her workplace(s).  There were split reactions to this then among the ALA, from 'how could she?' to agreement that Southern libraries shouldn't be abandoned over state laws.  It was interesting (although, again, horribly so) to read the internal strife the ALA suffered over civil rights.  But this article did show the need for places like the Western Colored Branch, which actually did something to serve African-American patrons, rather than argue.

This article also meshed with the topic of advocacy that has been discussed in my other class this semester, Public Library Management.  Currier did get involved in politics, albeit as lightly as possible, by working to desegregate the libraries.  Or perhaps it is better to say "not to seem fully committed to segregation," as she worked slowly but the quotes pulled from her correspondence that she did agonize over the right course to take in her decisions and tried to see ahead as far as possible.  But it highlighted the trouble that can come when libraries don't fall in with state or federal policy.

Entry #14

• Laskow, Sarah.  (2016)  "Protect Your Library the Medieval Way, With Horrifying Book Curses."  AtlasObscura.com.
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/2lox3xn

When I saw this article posted by Atlas Obscura's Facebook page, I knew I had to read it.  And it put me in mind of the ancient Assyrians, who would also etch warnings into their tablets to prevent theft (see the 600s BCE), so then I knew I had to add this to my History Log.

This article is basically a quick summary of a book published in 1983, titled Anathema! Medieval Scribes and the History of Book Curses.  Its author, Marc Drogin, came across his first 'book curse' while researching medieval calligraphy.  At first it was just a curiosity, but as Drogin found more examples, he realized it was a sign of just how valuable books had been.  As mentioned in this article and as we've read in class, it was a laborious process to make a book--copying it out, perhaps illuminating it, binding it, creating a cover.  Let's not forget to add in travel time and all the dangers of the road if someone was making a copy outside their home monastery or library.  I liked the end of the article, which discusses repeats.  Not every monk was clever enough to come up with their own unique thief deterrant--Drogin marked this as one of the most common: "May whoever steals or alienates this book, or mutilates it, be cut off from the body of the church and held as a thing accursed."

I personally liked the effort that clearly went into this one:

"For him that stealeth, or borroweth and returneth not, this book from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand & rend him. Let him be struck with palsy & all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain crying aloud for mercy,  & let there be no surcease to his agony till he sing in dissolution. Let bookworms gnaw his entrails in token of the Worm that dieth not, & when at last he goeth to his final punishment, let the flames of Hell consume him for ever."

Entry #13

• Hammer, Joshua.  (2014)  "The Brave Sage of Timbuktu: Abdel Kader Haidara."  Nationalgeographic.com.
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/1hdKVB3

Entry #6 of this History Log was about the Timbuktu's early history with libraries.  At the time, it reminded me of a book that I've been meaning to read, The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu by Joshua Hammer.  This is the article Hammer originally wrote about Haidara.  While this articles speaks on events less than a decade old, I believe it still ties into the class.

Just as in the previous entry regarding the Prussian music collection, Haidara oversaw the scattering of 350,000 manuscripts to "safe houses" in order to protect them from AQIM, the terrorist group who at that time had seized northern Mali.  I hope Haidara had better luck re-assembling his collection!  Haidara became a librarian to fill his father's shoes, who had been the head collector at the Ahmed Baba Institute.  Haidara would, after expanding the collection by 20,000 volumes, eventually leave the institute to build his family's archive (his father had also been a great scholar who had amassed his own personal library).  The former Libyan dictator, Qaddafi, attempted to purchase the family collection!  But Haidara turned the offer down, saying "...this isn't for me. This is the heritage of Mali, of a great nation. It's not for sale."

The purpose of Haidara's library to display Mali's rich intellectual history (as seen in Entry #6) and he  and his team rescued manuscripts from around the country, at great risk.  (Hammer tells the story of Haidara's nephew, who almost lost a hand for theft when he was discovered removing materials from a library within occupied territory.)  Again, I see the power the written word has on culture and the way librarians are working to diligently to preserve it because of its historical context.  It is argued in this article that the colonial conception that Africans had no written language was what led to the perception of a "subhuman position."  "So the presence of these books had high, high stakes, going back to the 18th century."

Here is the link to the Mamma Haidara Memorial Library's page through the Tombouctou Manuscript Project's site.

Entry #12

• Sroka, Marek.  (2007)  "The music collection of the former Prussian State Library at the Jagiellonian Library in Kraków, Poland: past, present, and future developments."  Library Trends, 55 (3), 651-664.
• A "Dig Deeper" article from Today and Tomorrow
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/2lxLEL5

I thought this would be offer a different perspective than what I've been reading so far.  This article focuses on a specific collection, rather than on a building.

This was less on the specifics of the collection and more on the politics surrounding it.  WWII saw the destruction of many countries' cultural icons, be those buildings, statues, paintings or books.  Poland was hit hard but Germany was also no exception.  In an attempt to save their collections from bombings, the Prussian State Library divided their materials up and scattered them around the country...which was later sectioned off into occupation zones and some areas lost when borders were rearranged.  (I have read other accounts of similar situations, where personal or institutional materials were scattered in order to 'protect' them, but ultimately only to be lost in the post-war chaos.)  Poland ended up with the Prussian State Library's music collection, which included original scores of composers like Bach and Beethoven, but kept it secret.  Sroka called one of the motivations behind this secrecy "cultural justice," the idea that the Soviets wouldn't make the return of Polish artifacts the priority that was promised, meaning Germany would keep what was taken from them.  (This did turn out to be the case.)  To read how the return of these materials happened incrementally, with the bulk still being held by Poland today, was fascinating.  It's almost hard to believe that, as of the time of Sroka's writing, negotiations of exchange were still being attempted.  (I was unable to find any updates on this situation, if any more materials had been returned in the ten years since.)

Entry #11

• Cloonan, Michele Valerie.  (2007)  "The paradox of preservation."  Library Trends, 56 (1), 133-147.
• A "Dig Deeper" article from Today & Tomorrow
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/2mONZy5

I was drawn to this article because it immediately made me think of the Digital Libraries class that I took last semester.  One of the major discussion points in that class had been the issue of preservation.  That sounds obvious, but there were several angles to it that I hadn't considered.  How does a library choose what to preserve when funds are low and shelf space is tight, yet server space is also limited?

"For had they remained buried, we would not know of them; thus the important information we have gotten from them would not be ours."  Cloonan writes this in regards to the Nag Hammadi bindings--codices that were sealed in a jar underground, eventually dug up by farmers.  In a variety of ways (including the farmers' mother using one or two to light her stove), these codices were damaged after being discovered.  Was the information contained on these scrolls worth this destruction?  Cloonan does not make an argument either way, merely points out the paradox.  I thought of it like Schrodinger's cat, almost.  We wouldn't know what was on the codices until we unrolled them...and what good do they do history if they are never read again?  Rather than be scared by mishandling or too much handling, we should take such anecdotes as evidence of the need for better digitization methods, and more funding.  (Digitizing an item would then allow it to be stored safely, with minimal further handling.)

He also uses politically incorrect/offensive cartoons as an example, to raise the issue of when do librarians and curators deem something "useless"?  I didn't find this particularly original, but did agree with one of the Islamic center librarians he spoke with--preserve, as "everything is grist for historians," but do not display.  I did find, however, his case for the Holocaust concentration camps fascinating.  I've never questioned why they were preserved, or how, nor did I ever think how that preservation of a physical site coincided with what we librarians do.  It does, on paper, seem almost wrong that Jewish organizations raise so much money to preserve these camps, which were meant as temporary sites, but it is important.  It can be horrifying to visit, but the sites will mean different things to different people.  Which of course raises the question of how to do so, such as with Cloonan's specific example of physical remains of hair samples taken from prisoners.  Some want the samples preserved for as long as possible, as a stark reminder of the people who suffered, but some want these remains buried as a sign of respect.  This is an extreme case most librarians may never deal with when preserving material, but it did make me think.

Entry #10

• Luyt, Brendan.  (2009)  "Colonialism, ethnicity, and geopolitics in the development of the Singapore National Library."  Libraries & the Cultural Record, 44 (4), 418-433.
• A "Dig Deeper" article from Contemporary Libraries
• Accessible online at http://bit.ly/2m3yF0v

There are many interesting things happening at this time in libraries.  The 1950s and 60s in America were particularly tumultuous and there seems no lack of articles available discussing how libraries reacted to different events or to changing societal attitudes.  But this particular article caught my eye because it is about the Singapore National Library, in a country whose history I do not know much about.

The theme of this article is striking--the power of language.  The British colonists were not concerned with investing into Singapore's infrastructure, so it was not surprising that funds weren't spent on education and libraries.  The Raffles Library existed, in theory for everyone, but the subscription and the English-language materials made it in practice only for Europeans.  Later on, when Singapore began moving towards independence, Lee Kong Chian offered the new government $375,000 to build a national public library--but only if it stocked materials in Asian languages.  The issue was that there were four languages to supply for.  Malay as the national language needed to be developed.  Mandarin materials overwhelmed the collection, as the Chinese (who, like the British, used Singapore for its economic opportunities) did put money into Singapore's social structure.  English, despite being the language of their occupiers, was still seen as "the language of the future."  Politics creeped into the library's collection development again during the Cold War.  Singapore's government was anti-Communist and passed several acts to restrict 'offending' literature--which meant Chinese-language literature suddenly wasn't coming into Singapore.  (And as most Singapore citizens had received a Chinese education, because that's who funded their schools, the librarians worried about alienating that demographic.)

In today's contemporary public library, we worry about how to split our CD funds so that Spanish-speakers (and others, depending on the individual community) feel represented and welcome in the library.  Which feels challenging enough!  So it was fascinating to read Luyt's article about how the Singapore National Library had to deal with the issue of languages to the extreme.