A course blog delving into the lives that books lead.

The Ties That Bind (Part II)

Apparently Safari and Kumu are having domestic problems, and I suspect it is because Chrome and Kumu are in the middle of an affair. All of that is a round about way of saying that my loading problem with Kumu magically fixed itself as soon as I used Chrome.

Technical difficulties aside, I really enjoyed using Kumu. I think that like Timeline JS this is a fun way of showing visually the data we are working with. It also builds upon the connection work we did with the spreadsheets, except that the Kumu map is colorful. In all seriousness however, I think that being able to interact with large amounts of data in this manner is extremely helpful to building an understanding concerning the data. The ability to work with it in some physical manner rather than trying to project it all in one’s head is lovely and helps foster better analysis.

Below is my recreation of Professor Pauley’s Manchester data. I really want to find some way to incorporate this into our local project.

The Ties That Bind

First and foremost I would like to say that while I did not end up getting my version of the data (all of which we found using the Dissenting Academies Online) into Kumu (which decided it was just going to sit at 99% loaded and stay there, I really liked this assignment. Some of it was frustrating to get to work correctly, but working with all of those different sheets gives a tangible idea of how the final product is going to look. The constant reorganization of the same information allows you to think of all the different ways in which it is connected. I think that getting to see everything in color and being able to navigate through it really highlights the connections in a more concrete light and I am very excited to see how I can utilize this in my own project!

Connections are way more important than we give them credit for in my opinion. Every single way we react to anything and everything is a connection of some kind. Some of them are fleeting and are gone in seconds, but others last lifetimes. But we don’t every really think about these connections as being tangible things, strings we can reach out and touch. Sometimes we give them material objects like wedding bands, or do our best to document them with photos. However, what I like about the Kumu project is that it gives a visible representation of the actual connection. Rather than say a picture of someone with this book, there is an actual chart of a sort that shows the different lines and connections between people and books. Now, perhaps it isn’t as romantic or exciting as the types of connections that we normally have, but with a little creativity and ingenuity I think we could create some very cool representations of connections here.

Here there be the link to my Google sheet (which I will turn into embedded sheets as soon as I remember how).


Let it be said that I have a new respect for cartographers of all kinds. Using at least five different programs for one project is not up my alley; I simply do not have the patience for it (especially not when I had to wipe everything Zotero related and start over). All-in-all though, I think the end result is amazing and I can think of hundreds of really useful applications for something like this: tracing the movements of books and people people; labeling mathematical achievements in a certain field; looking at old wars; and so on!

Now as to the book I used, I ended up using The Elements of Euclid, a collection of mathematical proofs written by Euclid. The proofs range all over the various mathematical fields and are some of the first formally constructed proofs. This book had a significant impact on mathematics, and so I figured that it would have been printed in many cities. Now, the sampling that I took is very small, but that is because many of the copies printed were edited or had notes in them to help readers perhaps not so fluent. For the most part, I believe that these collections simply had the original volumes written by Euclid with the only edition perhaps being a preface.

Timeline Project!

While I found some of the specifics of the Timeline JS to be difficult, I rather like the final outcome. Visually it is aesthetically pleasing and I think this medium is fantastic for topics that can be covered easily in bullet points. This project I think asked for just enough information that it was hard to edit it down to easily manageable slides. In addition, if you have a topic that can use videos, music, photos, and all other various sorts of media to change things up, this type of timeline becomes a lot more interesting. Unfortunately, for my particular project, I have only photos of the book’s inscriptions. (Although…now that I think about it, I might have been able to find a YouTube video on George Herbert. Perhaps I’ll update the timeline.)

The Magic of Libraries

“The books in Mo and Meggie’s house were stacked under tables, on chairs, in the corners of the rooms. There where books in the kitchen and books in the lavatory. Books on the TV set and in the closet, small piles of books, tall piles of books, books thick and thin, books old and new. They welcomed Meggie down to breakfast with invitingly opened pages; they kept boredom at bay when the weather was bad. And sometimes you fall over them.” 

― Cornelia FunkeInkheart


As I mentioned in the page describing this blog, Inkheart by Cornelia Funke is one of my favorite books. I love everything that it has to say about how books collect memories, how they tell you stories rather than you reading them, and how they have live’s of their own.  I love when Maggie describes Mo as a book doctor rather than a book binder. Mostly though, I love how the characters of Mo and Maggie and their relationship remind me of my dad.

I grew up spending time with my dad in an apartment perhaps not quite as filled with books as the house in Inkheart, but maybe that’s because we tried to keep ours off the floor. But make no mistake, several bookcases lined with two rows of books per shelf sat against the walls (just this December we brought the number up to 13), and we did stack books: on the coffee table, the side table, the table by my dad’s chair, the kitchen table, his desk, the top of bookcases, and even occasionally on the floor. Dad passed that love of the written word onto me and I spent my childhood with my nose in a book. (I regret nothing and I love my glasses.) So when I read Inkheart for the first time I was struck by how much the story resonated with me; a girl and her dad who live in a house more library than house, who love to read, and who go on adventures pertaining to books. It was perfect for the two of us.

The latest reading for the class, The Library at Night by Albert Manguel, made me think of all this when Manguel began recounting all of the various ways he tried to organize his own books and how most private libraries are catalogued in an order that is nonsensical to anyone but the owner of said library. Dad organizes the books in the living room the way most people do I suppose, by author and subject material, but my books are in a slightly more…abstract order. I order my books by feel; that is, I group books by how I feel about them or how I think the books themselves would want to be grouped. For example, even though Legion and The Emperor’s Soul and The Cosmere Collection are both written by Brandon Sanderson, Legion and The Emperor’s Soul hangs out by Among Others by Jo Walton and the Four and Twenty Blackbirds series by Cherie Priest, whereas The Cosmere Collection prefers to make its home on the second shelf next to The Great Book of Amber by Roger Zelazny. There is one bookcase dedicated to books that I are from my younger years as well as a few oddball books that don’t really fit anywhere else. There is one bookshelf dedicated to the small, squat paperbacks so that I have a nice line all the way across the shel, but even these are still ordered by my odd “sixth sense” arrangement. It may be nonsensical, but hey, I know where everything is.

While I know that this class focuses mainly on the physical aspects of the book, I cannot help but connect this to my personal feelings about books which is that they’re living things in a way. The video below is a remarkable little animated film which is another nod to my love of books as living things and also to the entire idea of libraries and what books do for people.

Source:  Moonbot Studios. “The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore.” 8 October, 2012.

Anatomy of a Book

“These weren’t cheap modern books; these were books bound in leather, and not just leather, but leather from clever cows who had given their lives for literature after a happy existence in the very best pastures.”
 Terry PratchettI Shall Wear Midnight

     Books are not always just the thoughts contained within the text on their pages. To many, a book is the physical object itself, the smell of the binding, and the rustle of pages when they turn. While perhaps not everything is as idealistic as Pratchett’s quote above, it is true that there is a lot that goes into the physical creation of a book whether we are discussing the era of hand illuminated manuscripts, hand-pressed books, or more modern presses.

     Philip Gaksell’s A New Introduction to Bibliography is an incredibly detailed account of making the physical body of a book in the hand-press era, from the 16th century to the early 19th. Everything is efficiently laid out from the making of paper and ink to the pressing of individual pages to the binding process. Books produced during this period are full of traces and marks from these various processes that are to books what scars, tan lines, and wrinkles are to us; they serve as a roadmap as to the origins of a particular book.

     Tuesday  morning presented the opportunity for me to perform this type of analysis on a book of my choosing. Since there is a more modern (20th century) binding on the A priest to the temple, I decided to find another book printed in the hand-press era. I chose a copy of the eighth edition of the uniformly titled Poems. Selections( officially titled as Poems, Ect. written upon several occasions, and to several persons) by Edmund Waller, Esq.

Basic Information:

     This copy of Poems. Selections is one from the eighth edition printed with slight revisions and a summary of the author’s life. On the title page (Fig. 1) it states that the Shakespear’s Head (their spelling, not mine) “over against

Fig. 1: Title page with inscriptions

Catherine street in the Strand” printed the book for Jacob Tonson (although I think it possible that the first “n” is an “m” that did not get enough ink which would make the last name Tomson) in 1711. Also to be found on both sides of the title page is provenance. There is one inscription written in 1992 and another inscribed to a “Sherlock” in 1780. On the back side of the title page is a longer inscription to a lieutenant in 1792. (Fig. 2) Other small markings adorn the book in places, but they are either illegible or smudged such that I could not read them.

What is truly fascinating is that when I looked into some of the history of the Shakespear’s Head, I found that A. H. Bullen and Frank Sidgwick established the press in 1904. Yet the title page clearly states that this copy was printed in 1711. I did consider the possibility that perhaps the original collection of poems was published in 1711, with this copy having been printed much later, but there is no note of that in the book. In addition, checking the Special collections record of the book, it is listed as having been printed in 1711. I will be investigating this further with the help of our archivists.

Fig. 2: Inscription on back of title page.

Cosmetic Information/Observations: 

     As is normal for the time, the book is bound in some sort of leather, most likely tanned calf-skin, although I cannot say for sure. On both the front and back covers the binder tooled in a blind design decorated with flowers at the corners. (Fig. 3) An alternate title for the book, Waller’s Poems, is tooled in gilt on the spine (Fig. 4) which speaks to it’s publication date. Books at this point would have been facing spine outward on a shelf rather than fore-edge out, and so the gilt title would have been necessary to identify the book. 

Fig. 3: Front cover of the book; shows blind tooling done in the leather.

  The cover is beginning to wear along both sides of the spine and darker splotches are scattered along both covers. It is possible that this is some beginning stage of red-rot, but given the care taken by the Special Collections department, I suspect it has either been treated to stop the process, or it is simply old age. Several cracks and cress also adorn the spine, and one can clearly see the five cords that each gathering was sown onto. (I always wondered when looking at older books what the ridges along the spine were, and it delighted me to find out that rather than merely being decorative, they hold the book together and can only be seen due to the process of tightly stretching the leather over the cover boards.) Foxing can be found on the top, bottom, and fore-edge (Fig. 5) of the book with the only difference being that the top-head is darker than the other too due to an accumulation of dust. Also noticeable is that along the top edge one can see where the cords have been stitched to the gatherings in three places, and by studying the fore-edge it becomes clear that the paper was cut, for the edges are clear and not feathery. 

Fig. 5: Example of foxing along the fore-edge of the book.

Fig. 4: Spine of book complete with detail of gilt title and evidence of cords.

Opening the book offered a new wealth of information. The edges of pages had yellowed and one could feel the slightly rough texture of the pages. Small flecks of brown from color differences in the paper pulp, or stuff, scatter themselves through the pages, which do become more rough as one gets to the middle of the book. one can also tell easily that the endpapers are made of a different quality of paper as they have a different texture and have not yellowed as much as the other pages. Opening to the front cover, one finds the watermark (Fig. 6) and also impressions of the strips used to connect the cover boards to the manuscript. So far I have been unsuccessful in tracking down the company that made the paper from the watermark as it is hard to ascertain the exact design. Indeed, I edited the picture below heavily in an attempt to make the watermark more visible.

Fig. 6: The watermark on the inside cover of the book.

Holding the pages up to the light, the chain and cross lines become visible with the chain lines running vertical. The impress of the letters can be seen on most of the pages and can clearly be felt by running fingers over the letters. It is an odd feeling as most books these days have very smooth pages, but it is not unpleasant. Additionally, on the last page there is a bit of bleeding from the ink on the previous. (Fig. 7)

The book contains both signatures and page numbers. The fact that there is pagination also speaks to the fact that this book was printed in the 18th century, and towards the earlier days of the hand-press period only foliation (use of signatures) marked the pages in a book. The last page is 423 and the last signature I found is Ee2 which can be found in the direction line of page 411. Counting leaves in a signature told me that each gathering holds 4 leaves and eight pages of text.

Fig. 7: This is the last page in the book and the page previously has left traces of it’s text.

     Furthermore, I made note of several things of interest including pictures, tears, examples where one could see the stitching, and even two cancellanda. For example, on the page denoted with signature A2, the sheet of paper used was not exact and you can see the feathering at the end of the sheet. (Fig. 8)A small tear exists on page twenty-two, and there is a series of small holes that appear on the inner margin of pages 154-164. However, I do not believe them to be instances of stab-stitching for they only appear on these pages, are not quite close enough to the spine, are irregular in size and shape, and this is the only place in the book that I found them.

Fig. 8: Signature A2 where the edge of the page is feathered. Also known as deckled.

Examples where one can see the stitching of the gatherings exists on page 169 (Fig. 9), which is also the spot of one of the cancellandum (Fig. 10) , and again between pages 184-185. The other cancellandum is between pages 146-147. Rather than a page being sown in, re-inked, or having new paper pasted over, these pages have been cut out.

Fig. 9: An example of where the stitching of the gatherings shows.


      With all of this data, it now becomes possible to answer a series of questions concerning the making of Poems. Selections. The first thing to discuss is the binding, which is in alright condition. There is definite evidence of wear along the spine where the spine meets the cover boards and the leather is not only beginning to crackle along the spine, but it is also covered in darker splotches, a sign of age. This is the original binding for the book as far as I can tell. The inner margins of the pages have not been tampered with, I see no signs of the book having been rebound at any point, and the wear on the binding suggests that it is as old as the book.

     Of course, there is then the paper to examine. In this instance, the paper is of a type known as laid paper, with vertical chain lines and horizontal cross lines. All of the folds in this book have been trimmed and the edges have been cut. The only evidence I found of the deckling that one gets with laid paper is on signature A2 at the end of the tail margin. I did find a complete watermark on the inside cover of the book, but that is the only watermark I found. It is possible I missed other watermarks, but I looked through several signatures and did not find another. In addition to the page numbers, the book contains signatures in the direction line written in the usual pattern: uppercase letters, numbers, lowercase letters, numbers, one uppercase and one lowercase, and so on. The usual letters of I/J and W/V are skipped in order to avoid confusion.

     With all of this information (8 leaves per gathering, vertical chain lines, and a book height of 20 cm), I believe that this book was printed in octavo format. This may also explain why it was hard for me to find a second watermark as watermarks are found at the head of the spine fold when the paper sheets are imposed in octavo format. Depending on how the book was bound, the watermarks may be too close to the spine for me to see properly.  In addition, with 423 pages of text and sixteen pages of text per sheet of paper, I think that at least 26 sheets of paper went into the making of this book, at least where the actual poems are considered. With the endpapers and the preface added in, I think that there must be at least another 3-6 sheets bringing the total to somewhere between 29-32 sheets of paper.

     Lastly, this book does include some images such as an illustration of the author (Fig. 11) and a picture representing his death at the end of the preface. (Fig. 12) Several other images of friends/family who he wrote poems for are included as well. All of these images seem to have been folded into the book or else sown in very tightly as I could not see any indication that they had been added in another manner.

Fig. 12: The picture at the end of the preface containing the author’s life.

Fig. 11: The portrait of the author included at the start of the preface.

Fig. 10: An example of a cancellandum where the page was simply cut out.


     All in all, I found this to be an interesting and informative exercise that forced me to look at books in a different light. While a part of me has always treated books as material objects in a sense (I am definitely not in the Kindle camp), this exercise made me consider a book almost as solely a physical object without a lot of regard to the meaning of the text within it.

Fig. 15: An up close look at the impress of the letters on the previous page.

Fig. 15: An example of a typical page in the book. includes the header and the direction line (signature and catchword).

Fig. 14: The table of contents.

Fig. 13: The starting page to the preface that shows off some of the different font types.

A Morning in Special Collections

Gene Hyde and Collin Reeve are the two lovely gentleman that work in the UNC Asheville Special Collections. Both of them were more than happy to talk about the books in the Special Collections and expressed interest in being kept in the loop about the course. Their enthusiasm made this assignment very enjoyable as well as informative.

The first two enquiries, concerning the oldest book in the collection and a book bearing evidence of reader use, we explored with one book – A priest to the temple. Or, the country parson, his character and rule of holy life by Mr. George Herbert. Having been printed in 1675, this is oldest book in the UNC Asheville Special Collections and how it ended up in our library neither Gene nor Collin have the faintest. Originally printed in the St. Paul’s Churchyard in London, England by a T.R. for Ben Tooke, the book has held up remarkably well. In part, this could be attributed to the newer binding placed on it which Gene estimated to have been done in the late twentieth century. A number of inscriptions on the front leaf pages allowed us to track some of the book’s other owners . While the inscriptions for the years 1727 and 1844 are difficult to read, one can discover that in 1878 Howard Hall received the book as a birthday present, and in 1913 it belonged to a fellow named Richard. Whether this “Richard” is the last person to have owned it before the library is unknown. Besides these markings, there is also a note in the back of the book that reminds the reader the reader of the chapter that starts on page 103. Perhaps whoever wrote the note found that chapter particularly invigorating or thought provoking.

However, that is quite a large perhaps, for while the book’s provenance does lend itself to helping out understanding of where this book has been and whom it belonged to, without some extensive research, there is not a lot that we can say with absolute certainty. This much is true: A priest to the temple was originally published in 1675 by a T.R. for Ben Tooke in the St. Paul’s Churchyard in London England.  Since then, we know the book has changed hands at least five times – from the first unknown person in 1727 to the second unknown individual in 1844 to Howard Hall to Richard, and finally, to the UNC Asheville library. All of the book’s owners cared enough about the book to keep it in good condition, and at least one of them made some study of the book as denoted by the reference to page 103.

After examining the book above, Gene and Collin told myself and Kinsey about one of the more recent bequests to the Special Collections. Dr. Erica Locklear teaches a course devoted to Appalachian food culture and history. During a seminar held at UNC Asheville, Pamela Allison heard Dr. Locklear discuss the course and was thrilled with the idea, especially as starting in her graduate school years, Allison had begun collecting cookbooks of every kind. Gene, Dr. Locklear, and Allison met to discuss the cookbook collection and in the Fall of 2015, the UNC Asheville library found itself with around 1000 books collectively known as the Pamela C. Anderson Cookbook Collection. Around 300 of those books specifically dealt with Southern Appalachian food, and the rest of the 3000 book collection went to award winning culinary arts program at AB Tech. Gene asked Allison to write a statement about the collection. Pam asserts that her interest in cooking came at first from her grandmother’s quintessential cooking;

“She cooked her green beans, freshly snapped, with a piece of fatback in a Club Aluminum pot, and she made her biscuits with buttermilk and lard, baking them on a dark pan that had to be at least 50 years old.”

Apparently, any biscuits sent home never made it out of the twenty foot driveway. This coupled with Allison’s love of reading manifested into research about cookbooks. From there, Allison asserts that her collecting grew into “an obsession to own every cookbook printed”. She gave the collection to UNC Asheville so that other scholars could benefit from having the cookbooks to research and so that Dr. Locklear could continue her work on looking at food culture through cookbook literature.

All in all, it was a very informative and interesting way to be introduced to the Special Collections.

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