On this blog, we often post about new techniques that we are learning in order to take better care of our collections. We are always trying to continue our education and ensure that we are able to take the very best care of the items entrusted to us. But sometimes the new techniques we learn aren’t actually “new” at all, as was the case this past September.
In mid-September, we participated in a three-day workshop on historic bookbinding materials and structures taught by Atlanta-based conservator, bookbinder, and owner of Big River Bindery, Andrew Huot. Andrew taught us nine of the most common European methods of bookbinding in use from the eighth to the nineteenth century, as well as four methods of board attachment, how to make a laced case binding, and even generously included an impromptu headband sewing session! It was a busy few days, for sure! Understanding how books are made helps us “unmake” them, so we can repair them. It is probably unsurprising to hear that the print collections at many libraries are circulating less as focus shifts to electronic subscriptions and online information. Less circulation for the print collection means we spend less time fixing the everyday sort of damage books normally incur. Although we still work on many new items, we are finding that we now have more time to spend assessing the older portions of the collection, so we were very happy to have the opportunity to enrich our knowledge of pre-19th century bookbinding.
The Preservation Lab was approached recently by Carey Champion, Director of the Wylie House Museum, to collaborate on an upcoming First Thursday event in October, 2019. She had the idea to present writing materials as they existed in the 19th century for students to try out, along with correspondence (or facsimiles) by members of the Wylie family during this time. We rose to the occasion and said we could make some ink out of Black Walnuts (Juglans nigra). In spite of what one can find online, I don’t know of any reliable historic source or scientific analysis that has definitively attributed walnut ink to historic documents or artwork. If anyone out there can send me a citation to a reliable study, I’m interested! Nevertheless, it was likely used as a quick ‘frontier’ ink and is certainly fun to make.
Here in southern Indiana, the green husks of Black Walnuts are coming into maturity and even falling from a few tree specimens around campus and county. We gathered about 40, and gathered around the bag with smashing implements in gloved hands to strip the green husks off of the nuts themselves. The hulls sat in a bucket overnight to oxidize a bit. The next day they were beginning to turn quite black. The hulls were about 4 liters in volume and were boiled in several stages with additions at certain points. Although the recipe follows, it’s worth pointing out a couple of things:
-Steel wool (ie. iron) was added in order to darken the ink and create what is called a ferric tannate pigment which is insoluble in water. The ink we created is not too dissimilar from iron gall ink, which those of us who work around historic documents are all too familiar. IG ink was the chief manuscript ink for at least the first half of the 19th century.
-Gum arabic was added not as a binder or gloss agent, but as a suspension aid to keep the very fine precipitate particles of ink floating around in solution.
-A small amount of alcohol was added as a preservative, and cloves were added for the same purpose as well as to improve the smell.
Please stop by the Arts Plaza the evening of October 3 to say hi and try out our ink!
Hey there! Are you planning to be in the Wells Library sometime between April 3 and June 14? If so, why not stop by our exhibit currently on display in the Scholars Commons?
The exhibit is all about the professionalization of library preservation, and one of the biggest catalysts for this was the Florence Flood of 1966. The exhibit has all kinds of information about this and other pivotal events in preservation history, as well as some super interesting displays of past, present, and (possibly) future preservation tools and techniques! Unfortunately we can’t possibly include all the information we’d like to into one single exhibit, so I’d like to take the opportunity on this blog to expand a little bit on the Florence Flood. Buckle up, this is a long one!
We begin our story in Florence, Italy; heart of the Renaissance, birthplace of Botticelli, Dante, and Leonardo da Vinci. Nestled in the gently rolling hills and famous vineyards of Tuscany, Florence was built straddling the Arno River, so they are used to the occasional deluge. However, in the early morning hours of November 4, 1966, the Arno River quietly slipped the confines of its banks and swept in to the city with a fury never before seen in the modern era. The last time the city had flooded to such a degree was 1557 CE, some 400 years earlier, and even then the waters were only half as high. The city was utterly unprepared for a disaster of this magnitude and could only watch as the waters, carrying mud, oil, debris, and sewage, roared through the streets and alleys. Thirty-five people lost their lives in Florence that day.
As the flood waters receded, the shell-shocked Florentines were faced with a crisis of almost unimaginable magnitude. Not only was the structural damage to the city immense, but the amount of cultural heritage at risk was daunting. Books, carvings, paintings, sculptures, all these things were currently sitting under piles of mud and debris.
Nearly every library in the city was affected; private, public, and personal. In the collections of the Archives of the Opera del Duomo, 6,000 volumes of documents were damaged, along with 55 richly illuminated choral codices, representing the sacred music used in the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore for the last six centuries. In the Gabinetto Vieusseux Library, all 250,000 volumes held at the time were damaged. In the Florence State Archives, which contain records dating all the way back to 726 CE, 40% of the holdings suffered damage of some kind.
The most well-known victim was the National Central Library of Florence, which is the largest library in Italy and one of the most important in all Europe. It was founded in 1714, when a scholar named Antonio Magliabechi donated his 33,000 volume collection to the state. In 1743, it was required that a copy of every work published in Tuscany be submitted to the library. Since 1870, the library has collected a copy of every work published in Italy. Approximately 1/3 of all the library’s holdings (about 1,300,000 items) were damaged in the flood, most notably valuable items from the Magliabechi and Palatine collections. This library is where the subsequent conservation efforts would be concentrated.
Then-director of the library, Emanuele Casamassima, rushed there as soon as he could to find books and papers buried in several feet of mud, with pages still stuck to the ceiling from where the flood waters had peaked. It was obvious that the first thing that needed to be done was to dig up as much as possible, as quickly as possible.
Casamassima issued a call for help, and students from universities all around Florence rushed to respond. They formed long human chains to pull books and manuscripts out of the mud, working tirelessly, paying no attention to the muck and filth they were surrounded by. The grateful Florentines called them“mud angels.” Some of the items were covered in sewage and oil from burst pipes. These were rinsed and disinfected as well as possible. Although their efforts were well-meaning, some of the steps they took resulted in further damage to the items. Sawdust was spread around to soak up moisture, but was difficult to remove later on. Books were placed in tobacco barns, brick furnaces, and textile mills to dry out, which unfortunately resulted in them being singed and cockled. As the rest of the world began to hear about the tragic losses facing Florence, adventurous students from around the world rushed to the city to help.
It quickly became apparent that there was simply too much work for Italian conservators to tackle on their own, even with the help of the students. With help from the Council of Library Resources and the Imperial College, London, British conservator Peter Waters assembled a team and headed to Florence. He would go onto to spend two years there, overseeing conservation efforts, designing new treatments, and training a new generation of conservators. Help quickly arrived from every corner of the globe, Czechoslovakia, Denmark, Ethiopia, Germany, Ghana, Holland, Hungary, Poland, and Britain. 144 workers arrived in the first 6 months. Restoration stations were set up both in the library and in the Santa Maria Novella railway station.
Peter Waters was responsible for the organization of the cleanup effort. He began by devising a nine-step plan. This idea of phased conservation, treating things in stages, would eventually be adopted by many libraries and is now a pivotal principle of our work.
The nine steps were as follows:
Books were selected, then a card was filled out detailing treatment needed (with so many languages being spoken, the cards used symbols for ease of understanding).
Books were photographed. The photos would travel with the book through the entire restoration process and would be kept and filed at the end of it all.
The text blocks were pulled apart into signature or loose pages. The pages were then collated and verified and the covers were removed. The covers would be reused if at all possible.
If needed, books were washed and disinfected.
If needed, books were deacidified and buffered.
The text-blocks were then pressed to remove the water and flatten the pages.
The books were dried in specially-designed drying cabinets.
The pages were mended and the signatures were resewn.
Lastly, the items were wrapped in anti-microbial paper, then sent to the binding area, where they were bound in as close to their original structure as possible.
Although the flood was undoubtedly a disaster, there was a lot of good that resulted from it. Simply by bringing conservators from all over the world together in one spot, the Florence flood acted as a catalyst for the professionalization of the field of library preservation. As one of the foremost conservators in the U.S., Don Etherington, wrote in Flood in Florence, 1966: A Fifty-Year Retrospective, “before, people who had some certain technique wanted to hide it; nobody wanted to share. In Florence, talking about our individual techniques was like lifting a curtain.”Techniques were shared, modified, and improved upon. Some of the most commonly-used conservation treatments came out of this experience. For example, phased conservation, freeze-drying wet books, using detailed treatment documentation, mass deacidification, non-adhesive bindings, use of Japanese paper, heat-set tissue, vellum tensioning, and encapsulation. There was also a marked change in attitudes surrounding preservation. Those working in the profession began to call themselves conservators, rather than book restorers, and shifted to minimal, non-invasive procedures, preventative measures, and holistic collection care. Libraries developed disaster preparedness plans and trained staff to know how to respond to floods and mold.
Although this is undeniably a success story, it is not actually over. As of November 2016, 50 years after the flood, there were still about 19,000 items from the Magliabechi Collection, 3,500 from the Palatine Collection, and 30,000 miscellaneous items awaiting restoration at the National Central Library. Many items were lost forever, and many of the sculptures and paintings on display in Florence now are actually reproductions, as the originals are either too fragile or too precious to risk again. But there is hope! As the years pass, and new treatments are constantly being innovated and discovered, more things may be restored that were once thought irredeemable. I’ll leave you with a link to a story about a important Renaissance painting, damaged in the floodwaters, that was fully restored only a few years ago using new technologies.
Hi all! I’m Rebecca Jacobs, the new Paper Conservation Technician. I have worked in the lab for about a month and have spent my time learning new skills like mending and encapsulation, as well as creating custom boxes and enclosures. While I’m new to this position, I’m not a stranger to the Indiana University community. You may have seen me around a few years ago at the Kinsey Institute where I helped care for and digitize works in the art collection, or more recently over at Kelley School of Business where I worked as the Selection Archivist.
In addition to working with collections at IU, I’ve also worked for the Indiana Historical Society as a Metadata Cataloging Assistant and have held internships and worked on collaborative projects with many of the museums in the Indianapolis area. I’ve enjoyed working at the Preservation Lab so far because it has given me a chance to use tools that are new to me and to improve my skills on detailed work like mending, and focus on learning more about paper as a material type.
When I’m not working at the Preservation Lab, one of my favorite things to do is experience collections at other cultural institutions as a visitor. Getting to interact with objects in this way reminds me of why I was originally drawn to Collections Care and Preservation and prompts me to reflect on how my work connects to how visitors create their own experiences with collections. I’m excited to carry this intention into 2019 at the Preservation Lab, and hope to share more about projects I’m working on in the coming months.
Things have been relatively calm in our corner of the blogosphere for several months, so I thought I’d add a post about a treatment I’ve been working on in the Paper Lab. We received five leaves of correspondence from the US History manuscript collection at Lilly Library. The small collection of letters are written in German by Philip Boehm, a Union soldier, to his sister during the Civil War. All have been laminated in a manner that was new to me: it appears a well-meaning, but ultimately misguided person placed each leaf in a plastic3-ring binder pocket protector and then used a domestic iron to melt and seal it all together. The film is perhaps polypropylene or polyvinyl chloride (I didn’t do the testing to confirm).
Most laminations involve a commercial product: either a heat-set or pressure-sensitive adhesive backed film is applied to both sides of a document. Over time, the films can oxidize, turn yellow, and possibly go brittle. The enclosed paper document becomes exposed to this oxidation and hydrolysis and can also become impregnated with the melted plastic or adhesive from the film. Removal generally follows methods associated with pressure sensitive tape removal- the use of solvents to swell or dissolve the film and/or the adhesive deposit. Heat can also be applied in a variety of ways to effect removal.
In this case, a combination of the two approaches is proving effective. Rather than applying heat from above, with a stream of hot air or getting in-between the materials with a heated spatula, I found that heat from below was the most effective.
Here’s the set-up, and another shot of it being used:
A conventional tacking iron that every conservation lab possesses is set to the lowest heat setting and stabilized in a face up position. Using the surface as a mini hotplate, the document is stabilized on the iron with a Casselli spatula in my left hand while I slowly pull the softened film away with the other. In this manner, strips are removed from recto and verso sides. The process takes around 45 minutes.
After film removal, the paper still appears translucent and darkened due to plastic that saturated the fibers. Testing of solvents reveals that an immersion in acetone for about 15 minutes reduces this effect by swelling remaining laminate substances and leaves the paper in a close to original state. Mending tears with tissue and wheat starch paste follows. Humidification and pressing completed the work.
Items find their way to the preservation lab in a lot of different ways. Sometimes new items are sent to us the moment they arrive and other times items circulate dozens of times before coming to us for a face-lift. Collection managers and librarians contact us when they have a special project planned, but occasionally someone just finds an old, beat-up book sitting on a shelf and sends it over. We have a lot of allies in the libraries looking out for us, but sometimes the only way to really know the physical status of a collection is to go and look over the whole thing ourselves. We call this a Collection Improvement Project, and our current collection of choice is the East Asian Collection in Herman B. Wells Library.
The East Asian Collection at Indiana University was begun in 1950 by Professor Ssu-Yu Teng, Professor Emeritus of History at IU. Dr. Teng came to the U.S. from China in 1937 and immediately began work at the Library of Congress as Assistant Compiler of Orientalia. His love of books and libraries would continue for the rest of his life, and provided the foundation and impetus for the formation of the collection at IU. One of his colleagues once remarked that he was a “walking bibliography” when it came to East Asian sources.
Dr. Teng received his Ph.D from Harvard in 1942, and went on to teach history at the University of Chicago, Harvard, and finally, IU. He was one of the few people teaching Chinese history in the U.S. at the time and is considered one of the founding members of Chinese studies in America. Dr. Teng began the East Asian collection out of need for materials to use in his own classes, but worked tirelessly his whole life to expand it. The collection now contains about 320,000 items pertaining to China, Japan, and Korea, and supports one of the top-ranking East Asian Studies departments in the U.S. Dr. Teng passed away in 1988.
The main purpose of the collection is to support research and scholarship. As Dr. Teng himself once wrote, “Just as lively fish without water would die, so a research scholar without access to books could perish.” However, this is not the only reason why these items are so important. About 59% of international students enrolled at IU in the Fall 2017 semester were from East Asia (China, Taiwan, Japan, or South Korea). For these users and their families, the collection represents a source of leisure and enjoyment, in addition to a research option. The collection also provides materials through interlibrary loan to universities all over the U.S., but especially to smaller Indiana universities without access to large collections.
When making our decisions about how to conserve these items, we must first consider how they are used. Our first step was to meet with the Librarian for East Asian Studies, Wen-ling Liu, who gave us insight into what users value most about the collection and where problems may be found. We learned that the collection is browsed heavily, so it is important to have spine labeling clear and visible. We will also avoid putting the items in an enclosure unless absolutely necessary, as it can hinder browsing. These items are also less likely to be available in electronic format and are often not replaceable. Some represent new challenges for us, such as new formats and unfamiliar languages. We plan to carry out the survey by going through the collection methodically, shelf by shelf, pulling items that need preservation. At the same time, we have taken note of particular areas of need and will pay special attention to those. It can take a long time to go through such a large collection, but by the end of it, we will rest easy knowing that this important piece of IU’s library collection will persist for many more years to come.
Indiana University Bloomington, Libraries. “About the East Asian Collection.”
IU Office of International Statistics
IU Department of Honors and Awards
John K. Fairbank, “Obituary: S.Y. Teng (1906-1988),” Journal of Asian Studies 47 , no. 3 (August 1988): 723-724.
With the pranks packed up and the chocolate rabbits devoured, you’re probably staring at your computer screen, sighing, and wishing it were Memorial Day already. But I’m here to tell you about one more celebration that you should get excited for! National Student Employment Appreciation Day is April 11th and this month we here at the lab are highlighting some of our awesome student employees and the amazing work they do for us.
Student workers are an incredible resource for universities like IU. Not only do they help us accomplish more than we could ever do on our own, they also bring in new ideas and attitudes that get us thinking about and questioning our established procedures, andgive us an opportunity to provide on-the-job training and experience to the next generation (I, as a former student employee, particularly appreciate this part)! Plus, they’re pretty fun to have around! But they don’t always get the recognition they deserve. We, at the Craig Lab, have had dozens of wonderful student employees over the years, but I want to take this opportunity to applaud our current four. So let’s check in and see what they’ve been up to lately!
Of course, our students do so much for us that anything I show you is necessarily only a small sampling of it. They are endlessly dedicated, inquisitive, and amazing! From all of us here at the E. Lingle Craig Lab, THANK YOU!
I recently mended and made folders for items in a Lilly Library manuscript collection. The collection contains the papers of Charles A. Halleck, who served in the U.S. Congress from 1934 to 1968. There was nothing unusual about the contents of one particular box, just original drawings of political cartoons and ads regarding the congressman from the mid-thirties. Then I looked a little closer at one of Halleck’s portraits.
The hatching in the illustration looks too good. It looks manufactured, not hand-rendered, but the perimeter of the shaded areas follow the form of brush strokes, just like on Halleck’s inked lapels. I found two other drawings of Halleck with the same perfectly hatched and occasionally crosshatched tones filling out the shadows on his face and neck. Fortunately, the backs of the illustration boards are marked “Craftint Doubletone,” so that’s where I started my search.
The Ohio-based Craftint Manufacturing Company offered Doubletone and a similar paper called Singletone from 1929 until they sold the product to the Ohio Graphic Arts Center, now Grafix. Grafix renamed the product Duoshade and it was available until 2009 when it was determined obsolete in the face of programs like Adobe Illustrator, and discontinued.
Twentieth century reference books and journal articles describe Craftint’s seemingly magical paper as an illustration board with a latent pattern on its surface that, when brushed with a liquid developer provided by the company, appears where desired. In these books, there is no mention of the chemical response in these latent patterns. However, as commercially successful products, I knew there must have been a patent on them.
After some digging, I found an application filed by Henry M. Baker in 1927 and patented in April 1929, the same year that Craftint started offering its product. Baker explains that by developing a silver nitrate image (a pattern of dots or lines) and blanching it with a substance like mercuric chloride to render it undetectable, a sensitized and lightfast image remains dormant until activated with a liquid developer.
Baker does not specify the chemical agent used to redevelop the pattern in his application. However, a patent issued to Carl Maier and William Swaysland in 1930 also listed on Craftint’s July 1948 product catalogue uses a different approach, by which a lead sulfate (lead white) pattern is applied to the paper’s surface and a soluble sulfide is brushed on where desired, turning the lead sulfate to lead sulfide, a dark compound. And if you made a mistake on the paper? Hydrogen peroxide would convert the lead sulfide back to a white compound. Other inventors built off Baker’s initial process, leading to various combinations of chemicals and developers.
A few detail images of Halleck’s inked portraits show the blank, undeveloped surface, the India ink drawing, and the developed pattern. Since these images are on Craftint’s Doubletone paper, there are two different patterns printed on the paper’s surface. Independently, the patterns make up two groups of parallel lines that, when both are activated, appear as crosshatching. A light tone developer makes visible one set of lines. For a darker tone, another developer is applied, but only after work with the light developer is finished.
What made Craftint toned papers so useful for twentieth century graphic artists? The potential to bring out large areas of tone with no more effort than a brush stroke is one of Craftint’s most attractive qualities. Compared to hand-rendered hatching and stippling, the results would be swift and concise, and mistakes were easier to hide via hydrogen peroxide than scraping or masking ink. Other methods of achieving tones and patterns were not always as effective and, in the case of halftone reproduction, not as affordable. Ben Day dots, as they are known now, did not offer the same precision as Craftint’s toned papers and had to be applied one large area at a time and burnished to complete the transfer of pattern, although they were available in a variety of colors. The tonal variety seen on and around Halleck’s mouth would have been difficult to achieve with Ben Day dots. Additionally, Craftint reproduced well at reduced sizes. A proof of Halleck’s ad shows the artist’s rendering reduced to smaller than one-quarter of the original. At such a size, the hatching on the original appears as a smooth, even tone across his face.
This process is very far from magic, though it surely seemed that way for artists. After dipping their brushes in clear liquid, the path of their brushstrokes immediately turned dark as it traveled across the paper. The phenomenon was easy to overdo, leading to images with many toned areas that, when reproduced into small comic strips and magazine ads, turned out cluttered and unclear. Artists commended peers who knew when to stop.
Anderson, Murphy with R.C. Harvey. The Life and Art of Murphy Anderson. North Carolina: TwoMorrows Publishing, 2003.
Baker, Henry M. Camera copy, and method of, and medium for making the same. 1709600, 1929.
Although she has been working alongside us since late summer, I’m only now introducing Janelle Beasley to our blog audience. Janelle is the Works on Paper Preparator at the Eskenazi Museum of Art here at Indiana University.
The art museum is currently undergoing renovations and will reopen in the fall of 2019. Employees were relocated to offices across campus and as the construction began, Janelle was welcomed with a cozy corner in our lab here in IU Libraries Preservation where she will reside for the near future. The lack of public exhibition demands is allowing her to perform some comprehensive rehinging and matting work on aspects of the Old Master print collections as well as modern and contemporary photographic works. Improved conservation facilities are on the list of changes at the museum- giving Janelle first-hand experience with lab space development too.
Janelle has been with the campus museum for several years now and brings to her position a wealth of experience from the commercial framing world. She’s adding to this by acquiring some new skills in paper conservation and preservation through workshop attendance and mini-lessons from us. It’s a win-win situation for us here in the lab too! We get extra company, and we can share some of our tips and techniques while looking over Janelle’s shoulder at the beautiful wood engravings and etchings she busies herself with.
I have recently discovered a sure-fire way to keep things interesting in my job: endeavor to repair books about photography. As a result of the recent closure of the Fine Arts Library, we have seen a high volume of materials from that collection. We wanted to see these things. The move of the collection presents an opportunity for us to sweep in and gather up materials that need attention. Add to that the fact that we spent a good deal of the summer working on a project to give some love to the Science collections. Where do Science and Art collide? Well, a heck of a lot of places, actually. For example:
Another way in which Art and Science come together is in books about photography. And what does any self-respecting photography book include? Pictures of naked ladies. Actually, it often doesn’t include pictures of naked ladies any longer, because they have all been stolen. It’s like an epidemic. Except that the illness occurred decades ago and we are only now discovering the casualties.
It’s almost exclusively naked ladies. Either people don’t want to steal photos of naked men, or the photos of naked men weren’t there in the first place, or the books with photos of naked men have been more closely guarded over the decades. There is probably a whole course in gender studies waiting to be taught on just this topic. (Photos of Michelangelo’s David don’t count. And they don’t go missing.)
Also, I’m not going to be including pictures of any naked humans in this blogpost, so don’t get all excited.
I recently took over the lab task of tracking down missing pages. Pages go missing from books for a whole host of reasons. Here are just a few, off the top of my head:
Someone really needed that article for their research paper and the book could not be checked out.
Someone really disagreed with that article and didn’t want anyone else in the world to read it.
The book is old. The adhesive on the spine dried up. Some pages just fell out.
Pet chinchilla ate the pages.
Someone forgot to bring money for the photocopier.
Photocopiers hadn’t been invented yet.
Someone had a really bad cold and forgot their pocket handkerchief.
That chart/map/table is just very useful to have on hand.
That picture is really pretty and someone wanted to put it on the wall in their dorm room.
That picture is of a naked lady .
Ok – let’s be clear here. Some of these things still happen, but many of these problems occurred in the past and are just coming to light now. When you have the font of all human knowledge AND a camera on the device in your pocket, you don’t really need to steal knowledge or images from the library any more. But sometimes pets do get out of hand. Books are continuing to age. Pages still legitimately fall out and get lost. Sometimes. But thefts perpetrated in decades past seem to be the most common reason for missing pages.
Tracking down missing pages is a bit like traveling into the past. You start to question the motivations of the person who took the pages. In most cases, you feel that someone just thought a picture was so lovely that they wanted to frame it and hang it on a wall. So they got a pair of scissors and hacked that sucker right out of the book and went on their merry way. I expect this does still happen occasionally. But it is now more likely that you would just Google image search that thing and then print your own copy. Or make it the wallpaper on your phone. We won’t even go into how weird if feels for me to talk about phones having wallpaper.
Let us take just a moment to think of the images that are on the other side of the picture of the naked lady. These baby goats, for example.
Think about all of the people who have been unable to appreciate this cuteness because someone just had to have the naked lady on the other side of the page.
Or, possibly, there is actually important text on the reverse and someone might now be missing a critical piece of information.
In some cases, the loss is too devastating for us to do anything about it. If the book is still in print, or readily available digitally, we might suggest to the subject librarian that the whole book be replaced. Sometimes, it simply isn’t worth our time to replace pages. But in many cases, the books are not so easy to come by, or would be perfectly all right if that one missing page were replaced. In these cases, I will go page hunting.
Here is a quick overview of the steps that might go into tracking down missing pages:
STEP 1: Figure out that there are pages missing from a book. This can happen when we do our first review of an item as it comes into the lab. Often, library staff or patrons discover that pages are missing and send the book on to us. This is most often noticed when someone sees sad stubs of pages that have been torn out.
Technically, people don’t discover the missing pages. They are missing, thus undiscoverable. What is discovered is the empty space:
STEP 2: Go through the rest of the volume to make sure that there are no other, previously unnoticed empty spaces. There very often are. Especially in books of photography. Extra especially in books of photography that include photographs of naked ladies.
STEP 3: Once you know exactly what is missing, look the book up on IUCAT to see if IU owns other copies of the book.
Nope, not that IU Cat.
If you are very lucky, then the book is out of copyright and available on Hathi Trust.
If you are very unlucky, the book is a bound copy of a popular periodical (Life magazine for example) with poor page numbering and no clear article breaks. It is difficult to place an interlibrary loan request (see Step 4) when you can’t specify which pages you need. Sadly, people love to take old magazine advertisements. I get it. Sometimes they are hilarious. And don’t have numbered pages.
STEP 4: Based on the availability of other copies of the book, make a determination of the best way to get a hold of another copy of the same edition of the book, and request that a copy be sent to you.
This is my chance to point out that I am not the only staff member involved in this endeavor. I have to work very closely with the staff in Document Delivery Services to solve these problems.
Below is a list of the most likely missing page situations and a quick description of how to proceed in each case:
Another copy is owned by a library at IU Bloomington -Either go to the library to find the book on the shelf, or request delivery through campus mail.
A copy is owned by a library at another IU campus. -Put in a delivery request through IUCAT to have the book sent through inter-campus mail.
A copy is owned by another library somewhere else in the world -Put in an interlibrary loan request through Document Delivery Services.
There is a scanned copy available online in Hathi Trust -Hope very hard that the pages you need are not also missing from the online copy. If they are there, celebrate, and download the relevant pages. Skip to Step 8.
The book is a periodical. -Document Delivery Services to the rescue again. In many cases, one can request electronic copies of specific pages. This is a lifesaver when it works. It is heartbreaking when the library at the other end sends the wrong thing and you have to bother the DDS people again.
There are no other copies available anywhere. -You are out of luck and there are no options left, because drawing your own replacement pictures or writing your own replacement text is not an appropriate option.
STEP 5: WAIT. The folks at Document Delivery Services will work all of the magic that they can to get you what you need. They are amazing and fabulous and friendly and helpful and deserve all of the superlatives.
STEP 6: Receive the other copy of the book you need. Compare the copies to make sure that the editions are the same, and to see if the pages you need are in this copy. Understand that if you are looking for missing naked lady pictures, 80% of the time the same pages will be missing from the copy from the lending library. If this is the case, contact the DDS folks and start the whole request process over again. Repeat as necessary. Sometimes this can go on for long time, getting one page from the University of Michigan copy and another page from the Purdue copy, etc.
STEP 7: If the pages you need are in the other library’s copy, then you may rejoice. Scan the pages from the replacement copy. Due to fabulous advances in technology over the last 20 – 30 years, we have a high- resolution flatbed scanner, which is an important piece of lab equipment. (Nominations are being accepted for the name-the-scanner contest. The winner will receive absolutely nothing except the satisfaction of knowing that they are very clever.)
STEP 8: Clean up the scanned pages in Photoshop and print out nice clean copies of the pages on acid free paper
STEP 9: Attach the copies into the original book. Additional repairs will often be needed at this point, so take care of those as well.
STEP 10: Send the book back out into the world with beautiful new pages and hope to goodness that they don’t just get ripped back out again.
Ok – After laying that all out, I guess my point is that this process is not quick. As with all of the other books that we handle, books with missing pages present a unique set of problems, and must be evaluated and dealt with individually. Books with missing pages take a lot more thought and care and work than many other books that we care for.
We love all of our books and will do our best for each of them. But for goodness sake, if you really, really need that picture, take a trip over to the digitization lab and scan yourself a copy. Or just take a photo of it with your phone. The folks at Document Delivery Services will thank you. And so will I. I’m tired of looking at naked ladies.