Communion Of Dreams


Fun with old book forensics.

I’m currently working on a two-volume set of a 1641 book, and noticed something interesting which I thought I’d share.

It’s fairly common to find minor errors in page numeration in books from this time period, and normally I don’t pay them much attention. They’re usually just a transposed number or something simple like that, a simple error made by a type-setter in a hurry or suffering from a hangover. But when I have to take a book apart for resewing (and usually other minor repairs to allow that), I try to be careful to make sure that I am putting them back together in the proper order, and that means checking and double-checking the order of the signatures.

A printing convention from this time period was to note the sequence of each section with an alphabet code at the bottom of the printed pages. The first section would be “A”, the second “B” and so forth. Then they’d go from “Z” to “AA” (or sometimes “Aa”) for as many cycles through the alphabet as necessary. This made it easy to make sure that the sections were in order when a bookbinder got involved, since oftentimes several different printers would be involved in the creation of a book, each one responsible for producing a set number of different sections (say section A through section FF, with another printer doing GG through CCC, etc).

Anyway, take a look at these two images:

Sections ZZz and AAaa

And:

The back page of ZZz and the front page of AAaa.

Note the page numbers jump from 828 on the back of ZZz to 889 on the front page of AAaa.

Now, look at these two images from the second volume of the book:

Sections Zzz and AAaa.

And:

Back page of Zzz on top of the front of AAaa.

Note the page numbers jump from 816 on the back of Zzz to 807 on the front page of AAaa.

There are other minor errors in the printing (which I’ve noted, since the book is in Latin I can’t speak to the text), but it is very interesting to find this kind of numeration problem at exactly the same break in sections in both books. I certainly can’t prove it, but my guess is that two different printers had the responsibility for the sections leading up to ZZz/Zzz and those starting with AAaa, and someone screwed up in telling them what the proper numbering was supposed to be for the pages they were to do.

Kinda fun, eh?

Have a good Easter weekend.

 

Jim Downey



Happy (re)Birthday to me …

A year ago yesterday, I met my cardiologist for the first time. After looking over the results of my stress echo-cardiogram and discussing what it possibly meant with me, he said that I needed to have a cardiac cath procedure sooner rather than later. Since he’s one of the premier heart surgeons in the mid-west, and always in demand, I expected that this meant I’d get put on a waiting list and have it done sometime in the next month or so when there was an opening in his schedule.

I nodded. “OK, when?”

He looked down at my chart, then back at me.  “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Good thing I don’t panic easily.

* * *

Well, as I recounted a few days later, the procedure went smoothly, though longer than usual, with the end result that I had a couple of stents placed to correct a congenital heart defect. It took a while for all the ramifications of what I had lived with, and what it meant to have it corrected, to really sink in. Part of that was coming to full understanding of just how close to death I had come, because even the slightest amount of atherosclerosis, even the tiniest little blood clot, would have triggered a massive heart attack.

But now it’s been a year. I saw the cardiologist several times over that year, most recently a few weeks ago. And, basically, I’m now past it all. I’m no longer taking any blood thinners, I don’t need to take any real precautions, I only need to check in with the cardiologist once a year or if I notice a problem. If I’m smart, I’ll continue to get regular exercise (I now walk three miles each morning, and get in plenty of additional exercise doing yard work and such) and be a little careful about my diet, but those are things which any man my age should probably do.

So, basically, today’s the first anniversary of my rebirth.

And it feels good.

 

Jim Downey

 



Equipoise*

Definition of equipoise

  1. a state of equilibrium
  2. counterbalance

 

I recently started conservation work on a late 19th century Japanese book, and the 5-flap enclosure which protected it. The joints on the enclosure needed to be redone — a fairly simple but time consuming process — and the cloth covering of it had been badly faded. Take a look for yourself:

Yes, there are only four panels shown. The fifth is covered in paper inside and out, and so didn't need redyeing except along the edges.

Yes, there are only four panels shown. The fifth is covered in paper inside and out, and so didn’t need redyeing except along the edges.

I like how the small rectangle on the top of the right panel isn’t faded; that’s where a label had been affixed.

The standard repair for this problem is to redye the panels back to the original color, then resize them (apply a coating of thinned-down adhesive for protection). Here are the same panels after redyeing:

20170304_170037

Big difference, eh?

Now look at this next image, taken from a different position the next day:

20170305_104347

Note how three of the four are noticeably bowed. That’s because the sizing I had applied yesterday had finally dried completely. The reason you resize cloth boards is because it serves as a sealant for the dye, and it also strengthens and protects the fibers in the cloth, making them less prone to abrasion or picking up dirt or oils from handling.

But this bowing can happen, particularly on old covers, due to the sizing causing a minor amount of shrinkage as it consolidates the fibers in the cloth. That puts more tension on the board, and causes this bowing. Scary, eh? Have I just ruined a rare book?!?!

Nah — like I said, this can happen, and I have seen it countless times. It’s absolutely nothing to worry about. All I have to do is just apply the same sizing to the other side of the boards, which are covered in paper. Because the fibers in the paper will behave in exactly the same way as the fibers in the cloth on this side. Chances are, just a single application will restore the balance of tension, and the boards will return to a perfectly flat state. There’s a small chance that I may need to do a second application of sizing to get the balance just right, but that isn’t usually required.

Like many things, just knowing what to expect, and understanding what it means, gives you the necessary perspective to not panic when something seemingly goes wrong on first glance. And as a friend noted when I shared this on Facebook, it’s also a good lesson in how you need to maintain balance in life.

 

Jim Downey

*Equipoise was also the title of the first novel I wrote, back in college. It’s stuck in a box up in the attic somewhere, I think. I probably should just find it and use it as fire-starting material, but you know how it is: gotta maintain balance, even with the past.



Protected: Conservation clamshell box
February 18, 2017, 6:06 pm
Filed under: Book Conservation

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Enter your password to view comments.


That’s a new one.

I find all kinds of things in family bibles and similar heirloom books & albums. Photographs. Locks of hair. Newspaper clippings. Flowers. It’s all stuff someone wanted to keep safe, so when I come across it, I set it aside and give it to the client, recommend that if they want to keep it, to do so somewhere other than stuck in the book (because it causes problems for both the binding and the paper).

I’ve seen all kinds of stuff over the years. But this was a new one today:

20170214_1557410

I checked with the client, who was quite surprised to hear that it was in there. They decided that they didn’t need to keep it as part of the family history.

Does make you wonder, though, what the story is behind it. Hmm.

Jim Downey



Proving title.

“A home without a cat — and a well-fed, well-petted and properly revered cat — may be a perfect home, perhaps, but how can it prove title?”
Mark Twain, Pudd’nhead Wilson

So, a couple weeks ago I had an idea … which, if you know me or have followed this blog for a while, can sometimes get me, well, not exactly into trouble, but can lead to things not entirely intended. Anyway, the idea was to build a climbing tree for our cats, which might take advantage of the 12′ ceilings we have in our historic home (ours is the next-to-last in that article).

Here’s the (probably) final result:

20170204_1734300

Now, for those who may be curious about the process of making this cat tree, there’s more below.

We have a huge slump of an ancient catalpa out in front of the house, near the road. Here it is:

20170121_120013

It’s been a favorite of photographers and children for generations, and overall is doing pretty well. But one large part of it died a couple of years ago, and we’ve delayed removing it. That part is the pair of major mostly horizontal limbs which come out from the tree towards the viewer in that image.

After some discussion, my wife and I decided that the lower limb could serve as the basic structure for our cat tree. So I cut it off, and then trimmed it and started removing the bark, as seen here:

20170121_125019

It’s a little hard to tell scale in that pic, but that limb is about 12′ from base to either tip, and about 12′ from tip to tip.

After removing most of the bark, we somehow managed to get the thing in through the front door and then into our living room. Without breaking any windows. Or bones. This was trickier than it might sound. And did require a bit of additional editing with a chainsaw on some of the various extensions. Of the tree, I mean.

So, we got it into approximate position, then braced it with a couple of chairs. Here it is, with Greystoke (our younger cat — he’s not quite two) investigating:

20170121_162215

Next, we got it mounted to the wall securely. This required some stacked-lumber spacers in order to make sure that the branches cleared the windows and curtains safely. The way I mounted it was to mount the lumber to the wall, then I added heavy hook brackets to the lumber, and cinched the tree down with rope. That way, if it was ever necessary, we could detach the tree fairly easily. Here it is mounted, with a 12″ cardboard concrete tube I intended to use for part of the ‘furniture’:

20170125_154656

Almost as soon as it was secured, Greystoke was wanting to explore:

That's an 8' ladder, by the way. Both of our cats love climbing on it anytime we get the thing out.

That’s an 8′ ladder, by the way. Both of our cats love climbing on it anytime we get the thing out.

Hello, there!

Hello, there!

I started adding elements to the tree: a couple of simple platforms, and a horizontal bridge which would support a carpeted tube. These (and all the subsequent elements) were mounted using a combination of metal shelf brackets and rope.

20170128_171333

20170129_141650

At this point I also started wrapping cotton rope around the branches, to make them more cat-claw friendly/safe:

20170130_170223

The branch on the left was at enough of an angle to let the cats climb it easily. On the right, I decided to put in steps similar to a ladder, but spiraling as they went up to make it easier for the cats to climb:

20170202_1604070

Next I settled on a final design for the tube:

20170202_164347

Then it was time to carpet it, as well as add carpet to the ladder steps and the platforms:

20170203_1728590

Covering the steps and platforms just required a rectangle of carpet the correct size and some double-sided carpet tape. To do the tube was a PITA using a combination of carpet tape, construction adhesive, and hot glue. I recommend checking YouTube for instructions. And gloves. Definitely you want gloves.

Here’s the semi-finished tree, before I added a final platform on the upper right, or some ‘interactive’ toys/elements:

20170203_173633

The (probably) finished final result again:

20170204_1734300

Complete with a suspended ‘bird’, a dangling rope, and a couple of simple wood spinners. Note that Greystoke, instead of being on the tree, is snoozing in his favorite chair below. Typical.

But he has already started climbing on it, playing with things, looking out the windows, climbing *into* the windows …

20170130_170427

Silly cat. But that’s why we built it.

So, all of the wood and most of the hardware used in making the tree was stuff which I already had leftover/recovered from other projects. The tree as shown in the final version (which may get tweaked a bit over time as we see how the cats use it) has about 800′ of rope on it, and that was the biggest expense. All together, had I had to buy both rope and all the wood & hardware, the out of pocket costs would have been about $200 (I actually spent about half that). And it took me a total of about 30 hours labor, in 2-3 hour sessions over the last couple of weeks.

Fun project. I was a little concerned that wrapping it with so much rope would detract from it feeling like a ‘tree’, but it has maintained that organic feeling, even with the other elements I added. I’m pretty happy with the final product.

Jim Downey



A chronicle of the repair of The Book of Chronicles

I’ve had the pleasure to work on a number of very significant items from public and private collections. Here’s the most recent one:

20170124_170129

That’s the Liber chronicarum, also known as the Nuremberg Chronicle, one of the most significant books in the history of printing. There’s a good basic description of why the book is important in the Wikipedia article, but suffice it to say that it was one of the first really successful integrations of both illustrations and type, and so a big step in printing technology. Here’s a good idea of what the illustrations look like:

20170126_140151

This copy of the Liber chronicarum belongs to the University of Missouri system, and needed a little help, as you can see in these images:

20170126_14025420170126_14030120170127_160642

Basically, the current binding, as nice as it is, was breaking along the hinge of the front cover. The rear cover was also showing signs of similar aging. This is a very common problem, particularly in large & heavy books. And my estimate is that the binding was probably 100+ years old, so showing a bit of age is understandable.

Typically, there are two basic repair options for dealing with such a problem. The first is to reinforce the hinge inside and out with Kozo dyed to match the leather. This is minimally invasive to the original binding. It’s a good repair for smaller books, but it doesn’t have a great deal of strength, and if a book is very heavy or is going to get a lot of use, doesn’t hold up as well as you would like. And to do it properly on this binding, it would have covered over a significant amount of the nice gold tooling.

The second common repair strategy is to “reback” the book in new leather. This includes removing the original spine, completely rebuilding the liners & hinges, putting new leather on the spine and then remounting the original spine onto the new structure. It’s a strong repair and  works well, but tends to be much more time consuming and apparent than the Kozo repair, changing the visual character of the book more.

After discussing the matter with the folks at MU Special Collections, we decided that I would attempt to do a Kozo repair, but one which had elements of the how the leather rebacking is normally done. This was something of an experiment, as is often the case in doing conservation work; you almost always have to blend techniques to meet the specific problems and needs of the item being treated.

I selected a very heavy Kozo paper and dyed it to match the leather. Then I carefully lifted up the leather along the spine, just enough to insert about a half inch of Kozo. Here’s how that looked:

20170128_143034

Note that the pieces of Kozo are only between the heavy bands — those bands are part of the sewing structure, and I didn’t want to impinge on how it worked mechanically.

Then I lifted up the leather along the edge of the front cover, pasted out the length of the exposed interior, and brought the two together, inserting the Kozo tabs under the leather. Once that was all positioned, I wrapped it in wide elastic bands and added weight all along the joint:

20170128_171213

Then I left it alone overnight to allow the adhesive to set properly. Leaving it alone is always the hardest part of this process, but you have to trust that you did it right, because if you try and look before the adhesive sets, it’s probable that you’ll cause the joint to be out of position.

Here’s what I found the next day:

20170129_1054500

That’s a nearly perfect joint. I was very pleased.

But I wasn’t finished yet. Now that the cover was properly aligned and partially attached, I needed to strengthen the joint from the inside of the cover.

I opened the book and removed the detached marbled endpaper:

20170126_140230

Previously I had carefully used lifting knives to get under the cloth joint cover and lift up the marbled paste-down:

20170126_161606

Now I peeled further back the marbled paste-down on the front cover, and applied a wide band of heavy undyed Kozo to function as an internal hinge:

20170130_111155

Then I put fresh adhesive on the exposed paste-down marbled paper and put it back into position, thereby securing the joint:

20170130_111604

Then I remounted the marbled endpaper with a narrow strip of Kozo on the back:

20170131_143005

Lastly, I put down a narrow strip of dyed Kozo on the outside of the cover to mask the broken joint and protect it. This was largely cosmetic, but helped to give the book a finished appearance. After an application of leather preservative and a bit of buffing, the book was finished:

20170131_14292120170131_142911

It’s a good repair. Eventually, the book will need to be rebacked in leather properly, but for now we’ve been able to stabilize the book and again make it available for classes and researchers at the University of Missouri.

What a fun project. I really do love doing what I do for a living, and I realize just how lucky I am to be able to say that.

Jim Downey