Collection Management with a Preservation Perspective
In the fall of 2018 I joined the Preservation Lab as a Student Conservation Assistant. I was excited to engage my skills as a painter, printmaker, and DIY bookmaker to help preserve library materials. At the time, I was in the final year of my MFA in poetry and intended to continue at IU to complete my library degree. I started as most Student Conservation Assistants in the book conservation lab have: removing the staples from music scores and sewing them into pamphlet binders. To some it would seem a tedious job, but I found the meditative, repetitive task relaxing and I was eager to learn more.
For the next year and a half I learned treatments and tricks from everyone who worked in the lab, picking up details about how books are made, why they fall apart, and how books are identified and prioritized for repair or stabilization. By early spring of 2020, I was practicing just about every treatment available to Student Conservation Assistants in the lab. Then suddenly, like many others, everything changed because of COVID and I was no longer able to work in the lab.
Over the year of quarantine and lock-down that followed, I continued my MLS coursework remotely, leaning into my interests in collection management, research support, and teaching. When vaccinations became widely available in the spring of 2021, I was delighted to be offered the opportunity to return to the lab for the summer to participate in a de-duplication and preservation project for the Folklore Collection; a project designed as a pilot for larger de-duplication and preservation efforts. Working on this project both mobilized and tested my existing preservation knowledge, expanded on my database management skills, and deepened my understanding of library workflows, policies, and procedures.
For the next month and a half, hundreds of books passed through my hands. It was my role to look at each set and evaluate them based on how they were made, evaluate prior repairs, and their present condition (see the previous blog on this site, You Can’t Judge a Book by the Cover, which explains a lot of the thinking that goes into such an evaluation).
Some sets were easy: a copy sewn through the fold with little wear to the interior or covers was an obvious choice when compared to an over-sewn copy with too-tight binding, and brittle, torn pages.
When these decisions became difficult was when choosing between very bad copies of the same book.
This is where the skills I’d gained in my years as a Student Conservation Assistant really came in handy. Because of my past preservation experience, I could estimate how much time it would take to complete various repairs, identify opportunities for simpler, less-time consuming fixes, or know when to bring the two awful copies to my supervisor for her opinion.
As I worked my way through the project, giving recommendations for repair and turning the books over to the full-time conservation staff, I encountered binding methods I’d not yet seen, books with unidentified substances smeared across their pages, heart-warming inscriptions to beloved professors, and the unfortunate reality of acidic paper gone brittle and crumbling as I turned each page. Through conversations with the conservation staff, I expanded my knowledge of preservation techniques and witnessed how conservators make different decisions based on the item and its needs. There are a number of ways to approach a book in need of repair, and sometimes two conservators will make different decisions, or the same conservator might take a different approach on a different day, due to external factors like overall workload or the skill level of available staff. Like so many things in the library world, there is more than one way to do it! Hearing back from full-time preservation staff about how the treatment they ultimately performed aligned and differed from my recommendation was uniquely instructive, and served to deepen knowledge of book repair techniques and decision-making.
While I worked on the project, I evaluated the condition of over 1000 individual monographs. Beyond the preservation skills I expanded upon, I also deepened my knowledge of library management software, database software, and library workflows and procedures. While evaluating titles I uncovered and flagged numerous cataloging errors, a happy side effect of such a project. Between pulling books in the stacks at Wells, packing totes of books and organizing them on carts, and comparing copies and making recommendations, I read up on preservation management in libraries, and even had some time to make some conservation treatments of my own by mending torn pages with Japanese paper and wheat paste.
This project is a wonderful example of preservation staff and subject librarians working together to maintain the health and continuation of a collection. As I move into my new position as the Arts & Humanities Librarian at Central Washington University I’ll bring with me a theory of collection management that integrates principles of preservation and emphasizes cooperative relationships between public and technical library services, centering responsible stewardship of library resources with the shared goal of ensuring continued access to research collections for decades to come.
You can’t judge an apple by looking at a tree You can’t judge honey by looking at the bee You can’t judge a daughter by looking at the mother You can’t judge a book by looking at the cover. — Bo Diddley / written by Willie Dixon
Are you looking for reading recommendations?
or maybe a Bo Diddley recording?
If so, you are probably in the wrong place.
On the other hand, if you have books you want to keep for a long time, and perhaps pass on to your children, you may find this useful. Ditto if you work in a research library. Ditto if you’ve ever wondered how books are put together. We are talking here about things that affect a book’s chances of long-term survival.
For out of old fields, as men say, Comes all this new corn from year to year; And out of old books, in good faith, Comes all this new science that men hear. — Geoffrey Chaucer, Parlament of Foules
Book conservators know how books are made, and importantly, why and how they fall apart. So I’m going to share some secrets about how to distinguish between a book that is likely to last and one that may not. Hint: As the title of this post suggests, one with a worn cover could very well be a better choice than one that looks good from the outside. In truth, the choice is not usually clear-cut — not by a long stretch. Nevertheless, better choices can be made, and made more easily, when armed with information about the physical aspects of books and how they are put together.
Book conservators work hard to keep books in good condition so that they will be there when you need them. But do you know what has helped the survival of our collective intellectual record more than the collective efforts of book conservators?
Lots. Of. Copies.
Any particular book or journal is likely to be found on the shelves of many libraries. Everybody knows that, and that is a good thing. And an individual library very likely has duplicates even within its own collection.
Redundancy is good in the world of information preservation, whether it is physical books or backups of your computer files. When bad things happen to good books — as they do — there will still be other copies.
So why worry about better or worse copies when we have lots of them?
Well, in recent decades the cost of maintaining vast print collections has become a pressing problem for libraries. The space devoted to books diminishes a library’s capacity for other things, such as study space for patrons. When libraries run out of space, difficult choices often have to be made.
Since the 1950s, when post-war prosperity led to increasing rates of collection growth, libraries have used many strategies to cope. Microforms reduced the footprint of voluminous materials such as newspapers. Compact shelving was added. Interlibrary lending meant a library did not have to acquire every book. When those measures were no longer enough, high-density storage facilities were built to house books by size on 30-foot-high shelving. But today many libraries have filled up these facilities too, and financial support for yet more space has been hard to come by.
So what now?
You see where I’m going here. Shedding some of the copies would seem like a reasonable next step, especially older materials, which are no longer used as much as they once were. So this is indeed what many libraries are up to these days — withdrawing some copies, either within their own collections or in collaboration with other libraries.
Behold, the fool saith, ‘Put not all thine eggs in the one basket’ – which is but a manner of saying, ‘Scatter your money and your attention ; ‘ but the wise man saith, ‘Put all your eggs in the one basket and – WATCH THAT BASKET.’ – Pudd’nhead Wilson’s Calendar. — Samuel Clemens/Mark Twain.
In Part Two, I’ll get all technical and talk about how you can distinguish between a book that is likely to last and one that may not based on its construction. For now, I will pause and leave you to ponder this illustration. We’ll come back to it.
You Can’t Judge a Book by the Cover
In Part One I suggested that looks can be deceiving to the untrained eye when it comes to judging which copy of a book has better odds of long-term survival. And I promised to share what book conservators know about how books are made, and how and why they fall apart. So now we are going to look under the hood (the covers, that is).
But the increased demand for paper in the nineteenth century led to rag shortages, so in the 1840s papermakers began switching to wood pulp. Unfortunately wood-pulp paper becomes acidic, weak, and brittle over time, whereas older paper made from cotton or linen fibers has remained strong and flexible for centuries. By the 1980s, with the problem now quite evident in library stacks, papermakers began converting to making acid-free paper. But between the 1840s and the 1980s millions of books were produced. And libraries have lots and lots and lots of them.
So the condition of the paper is a big factor for long-term survival.
But now you are thinking that books published at the same time are likely to have the same kind of paper, right? And you would be correct. So this doesn’t help a lot by itself when comparing copies. But it is often a combination of factors, including paper strength, that leads to a book’s demise.
An essential thing that makes a book a book is that the pages are joined, or bound, together along one edge in some way. There are numerous ways this can be done. And the way a book is bound often does vary from one copy to the next. The main reason for this is that older books in libraries are likely to have been rebound at some point. And some of the rebinding methods used in the past were, shall we say, better than others. Also, wear and tear often varies from one copy to the next.
A simple but important feature to look for is openability — whether a book lies open on the table by itself, or if you have to hold it open. The way the pages are joined together largely dictates this. Openability is important, not only because those that don’t open well are less convenient to use — although they are — but because a restricted opening is one sign of a binding method that makes future repairs difficult or impossible. (Sometimes the thickness of the paper, or the direction of the paper grain also come into play.)
The openability of the most common binding, or “leaf attachment,” methods found in library collections are illustrated below. Restrictive bindings — those that do not open easily — put stress on the pages. Books that open easily allow the pages to move freely. A book with brittle paper and poor openability is likely to end up broken and sad. And difficult to save. But when a book is bound in a flexible manner, there’s hope, and the chances are better that it can be repaired.
Identifying Leaf Attachment Methods
Below are descriptions of the leaf attachment methods most prevalent in library collections, along with illustrations to help you know what to look for to tell one from another.
Sewing Through the Fold (5c above) is a traditional method of joining the leaves of a book together to form a text block, and has been in use since as early as the 2nd century AD. So it’s kind of time tested.
Sheets of paper (folios) are folded together in groups (called signatures, sections, gatherings, or quires).
and the groups are sewn one to the next with needle and thread.
Sewing through the folds is still the way that lots of books are made. Attaching the pages together through the folds makes a book that opens well, is flexible, and allows for future repairs. There is not a lot of stress on the pages, and that is helpful if and when the paper becomes brittle and weak.
Sewing through the folds can be found in paperbacks as well as hardcovers. Look for even stitches in the center folds and a scallop pattern at the top or bottom edge of the book.
Adhesive binding (5d) joins single leaves (rather than folded sheets) together with glue and results in good openability, because the pages are attached only by their very, very edges. As long as there are adequate margins, adhesive bindings usually can be rebound.
Burst binding is a variation of adhesive binding, but it’s a tricky one. They can be confusing to distinguish from a book sewn through the folds. The top edge has the scalloped edge like a book in signatures sewn through the fold. That is because it is in signatures. It’s just that instead of the signatures being sewn, slots are cut through the folds and adhesive is forced (or burst) through to hold the signatures together. When you look closely at a burst binding you will not see any threads. These usually can be rebound adhesively after cutting off the folds.
Most mass market paperbacks are made with poor-quality adhesives that dry up and cause pages to fall out or the text block to split, as shown below. But if the inner margin is wide enough, these can usually be rebound with a better adhesive, as only a tiny amount of the page edges need to be trimmed away.
Double-fan adhesive binding, which uses a high-quality, long-lasting adhesive, is done by commercial library binders and in book conservation labs. The pages are clamped in a press, fanned out, and adhesive is applied. Then the pages are fanned the other way and more adhesive is applied. This deposits adhesive on both sides of the pages (1/16 inch or less). This type of adhesive binding holds up well in most books, but does not work as well on books with thick, stiff pages.
Oversewing (5b), the most restrictive leaf attachment method, was used liberally until about 1985 by commercial library binders. Many books that were sewn through the folds originally were rebound later by oversewing, which requires chopping off the folds and some of the inner margin to make a stack of single sheets. Oversewing was also used to bind together the issues that make up journal volumes. Since the mid-1980s, oversewing has largely been replaced by double-fan adhesive binding.
To oversew a book, the folds are chopped off (if present) and a few pages are put into an industrial machine that has a row of threaded needles. The needles and threads pierce through the page edges many, many times. Then another clump of pages is added, and the machine sews through them and interlocks the stitching with the one before.
An oversewn book with flexible paper is probably going to last a long time, but if the paper is brittle, there will be a lot of page breakage, and you may not be able to put Humpty Dumpty together again.
Below is an oversewn book taken apart, page by page, snip by snip with fine scissors and tweezers. There is so much strong thread that it can take hours to take apart one volume. The resulting pages look similar to those torn out of a spiral-bound notebook.
Besides the restricted opening, another way to tell that a book is oversewn without taking it apart is to look for the close, irregular stitches in the inner margin. This is often visible in older books as they start to weaken.
Also, almost all oversewn books have plain buckram cloth covers.
Because oversewn books are made up of single sheets, rather than folded signatures, you won’t see a scallop pattern at the top or bottom as you do with books sewn through the folds.
Hand-oversewn books are less common, but sometimes repairs were done by a kind of oversewing. The most likely hand oversewing you would encounter is at the front of a book (where damage most often occurs first). Hand oversewing is also called whip stitching or overcasting. This type of oversewing restricts opening, but is not as damaging as machine oversewing because the folds are usually retained, there are not nearly as many stitches, and the stitches are much easier to remove.
Side sewing (5a) is another restrictive binding method. It can be sewn by machine or by hand. All the pages are sewn in one long row of even stitches. The stitches can be removed, allowing for rebinding. This can be a bit time consuming, but it can be done.
Japanese stab-sewn books are usually made with thin flexible paper and adequate inner margins.
Side stapled books are similarly restricted in opening, but they are usually easier to take apart to repair or rebind. Side sewing and side stapling are usually done on thin books or pamphlets made up of single sheets of paper, but sometimes books made from folded pages have been side sewn or stapled.
Pamphlet binding is a single signature of pages sewn together through the fold, often together with a simple cover. Like a book with multiple signatures sewn through the folds, this is a flexible leaf attachment method that can be repaired or rebound very easily. Pamphlets, musical scores, popular journals, ephemera and other short works are often made up of a single signature stapled through the center. Staples can be replaced by sewing to improve durability.
So, yes, it’s complicated, but at least now you know – you can’t judge a book by the cover.
For more information on book structures not covered here, see:
A la Recherché du Temps Perdu | In Search of Lost Time
And we’re back …
Well actually, some of us never left. A skeleton crew has been working in the IU libraries throughout the pandemic, just to keep the pipes clear so that information continues to flow for you, dear readers. Meanwhile, the rest of us were hunkered down for almost 4 months in our kitchens, dining rooms, bedrooms, and back porches, and yes, sometimes even in our parked cars in the IU Stadium lot in order to get an Internet signal. With eyes and fingers glued to our computers, we have been doing all the things a modern library can do online — placing orders for e-books, paying for them, reference services, cataloging, and so many other things you never even knew went on behind the scenes in a library.
As we prepare for Fall 2020, additional staff are back on campus, mainly those who work with the physical collections – the books, journals, and other things you can hold in your hands and sometimes even take home. Some staff re-shelve books, some repair them, some put the call numbers on them, some prepare them for deposit in our state-of-the-art collection storage facility.
We are following IU’s guidelines to keep you and ourselves safe. One concern unique to a library, but not addressed by the campus guidelines, is the handling of those physical collections we talked about. You may get up close and personal with the books you read, and when you return them, staff need to handle them — to get them checked back into the circulation system, possibly repair them, and re-shelve them. In ordinary times, that is.
So we thought you might want to know what we are doing about that.
Although we know that disinfectants are effective in killing the virus that causes COVID-19, unfortunately we also know they can damage library materials. Not to mention how long it would take to disinfect all the pages of a pandemic-appropriate book such as Marcel Proust’s A la Recherché du Temps Perdu. And please — don’t even think about microwaving books; nothing good can come of that.
But there is a simple solution (no, not that kind of solution). We just quarantine the books coming back to the library, because we know that the virus has a finite period of viability. Although we are still learning about SARS-CoV-2 transmission, recent studies to address library concerns found that the virus is no longer detectable on library materials after three days. The REALM project is ongoing, so check there if you are interested in what they are doing.
While the library buildings remain closed to the public, you can submit requests online to borrow books, and schedule a no-contact pickup appointment. Please know that any library materials you borrow will have been quarantined for three days after someone else has used them. And the staff preparing those materials for you are washing their hands, disinfecting surfaces, wearing face coverings, and keep six feet from others.
Beyond the physical collections, there are ten tons of books you can read online in HathiTrust, and lots of other e-books are available by searching IUCAT. Find up-to-date information on the current library services page about borrowing, research help, requesting articles, access to lots of online resources, and other services.
So please wear a face covering, wash your hands, and while you’re at it, maybe read a book?
Continue reading more from the Preservation Lab blog to find out about some of the ways we keep the collections in good condition so that they are there when you need them. Also find out how we have been managing through the pandemic, including this totally apolitical analysis of the meaning of a word – depending on your (book) world view. It is light-hearted fun, but also illuminating.
Lately I’ve been spending some quality time in our guest room.
In my quiet refuge, between Zoom meetings, I’ve been continuing work I began in a class I attended in early March on the conservation of leather bindings. In the class, led by the inimitable Jeff Peachey and held at the University of Notre Dame, we practiced the latest thing, called social distancing, as we practiced conservation treatment techniques for leather-bound books.
Perhaps you noticed the snowshoes on the wall there in my guest room. Although we use them now to impart a ski lodge ambience, those are real, old-school snowshoes. My father-in-law wore them in the Vermont woods in the 1940s.
They are made from ash wood and rawhide. The rawhide is intact and unbelievably strong. Rawhide is similar to parchment, in that it is made from animal skins. But rawhide and parchment, unlike leather, are not tanned. Tanning is what makes it leather, but is also more or less where the trouble starts. Acids from tanning, plus atmospheric pollutants, lead to leather deterioration. And leather used for bookbinding is typically pared very thin, especially in the areas of stress, so that exacerbates the problem.
Hence the need to know how to repair leather bindings.
The most common way that leather bindings fail is the attachment of the cover boards to the text. The joints — the place where the covers meet the spine — are flexed every time the book is opened.
So in class we studied and practiced many ways to reattach boards, considering the pros and cons of each method, and what constitutes a good candidate for each.
Boards can be attached mechanically or adhesively with thread, cloth, paper, leather, or parchment. There are many variations and combinations among these methods, just as every book presents unique properties and problems to solve. Factors to weigh in selecting an appropriate attachment method include size; weight; condition of the paper, boards, leather, and other components; original construction; prior repairs; anticipated type and amount of use; the conservator’s skill level; invasiveness of the treatment; importance of the original binding; and time (and therefore cost).
Over the first two days we discussed and practiced minimally invasive reattachment methods, including joint tackets, thread and cord extensions, board splitting, and Japanese paper hinges. These techniques are also less time consuming than traditional, shall we say old school, repairs such as rebacking or complete rebinding.
The spine of a book is also called the back, so rebacking is the replacement of a missing, damaged, or deteriorated spine with new material. Books sometimes have both detached boards and a damaged or missing spine, so they need both board reattachment and rebacking. Also, some reattachment methods involve removal of an attached spine cover to gain access to the spine of the text block.
Traditionally, rebacking was done with new leather, and was a cheaper alternative to full rebinding. Nowadays, however, other materials are often used because of concerns about leather deterioration.
Here is a book I repaired a few months ago. Both boards were detached and the spine cover was missing. Instead of leather, I used a laminate of Japanese paper and cloth. The paper and cloth are pasted together, and the paper, which faces outside, is toned to match the leather. The cloth underneath provides additional strength.
Here the book has been rebacked with a toned paper-cloth laminate.
But sometimes rebacking with leather is appropriate, so it is an important skill to have. So on the third through fifth days, we worked on rebacking, starting with identifying the pros and cons.
This is the little book I rebacked in leather. I started it in class, but had to finish it at home, having left a bit early the last day, times being what they are. Both boards were detached, and about half of the spine cover was missing. The thin leather has a smooth glossy surface, with the top layer flaking pretty badly in some areas. The spine covering was adhered over a hollow tube of paper attached to the book, and there are false raised bands under the spine covering.
Here a beveled cut has been made at a shallow angle along the length of the board edge, leaving a narrow strip of leather on the edge. The leather, which is thinnest at the edge of the beveled cut, is lifted off of the board from the cut line, but the narrow strip is left on. Later the new leather will fit under the lifted area and cover over the narrow strip.
Here the lifted leather is held up out of the way with a piece of folded mylar. The thread extensions sewn in around the original cords have been unplied (twisted to separate the three strands of the thread) and will be glued under the lifted leather, forming the attachment of the boards to the text.
Now the boards have been attached with the threads and a new hollow tube is being made. The middle section of the paper has been glued to the spine, then the flaps will be glued to each other. Later the new leather spine piece will be pasted out, centered over the tube, and the extended edges will be inserted under the lifted leather on the boards.
We learned how to prepare new leather for use in book repair, including “boarding” to make it soft and pliable so it will shape and adhere well to the book, toning it to blend with the original leather, paring it thin in all the right places.
Here the piece of leather that will form the new spine is being pared. The first pass has been made along one long edge with a French-style paring knife.
Here is the finished hollow tube with pieces of blotter glued on to create the look of raised bands. Three false bands are visible in the fragment of the original spine cover. The leather for the new spine is under the spine fragment, toned, trimmed, pared, and ready to prepare for attaching.
The new leather is wrapped in a damp cloth for a while, then thick paste is applied to the underside, left to sit, scraped off, pasted again, and scraped off. Then it is pasted again and put on the book. The leather darkens from the moisture, but lightens once dry. The softening helps with adhesion, shaping the leather around the bands, and getting the new leather under the lifted leather to be as flat to the boards as possible. While water is used to prepare the new leather, water on older leather is to be avoided at all costs (old leather can turn black permanently and become brittle) so the lifted areas of original leather are protected with the folded pieces of mylar.
Here the new leather has been pasted over the hollow tube and under the lifted leather on the boards.
After the new leather spine is nice and dry, the leather that was lifted from the boards is adhered down, and then pressed hard, one board at a time. The new leather compresses because it is soft and malleable, which helps everything come out smooth and flat.
Here the fragment from the original spine has been attached over the new spine, after removing the original hollow tube fragments from the back side.
Once the little book and I are back in the lab, I’ll make a paper label for the title and place it on the spine in the panel below the top band. I hope that will be before I need the snowshoes.
The Preservation Department and the Auxiliary Library Facility (ALF) hosted a group of local students this week for a tour.
The students are taking art classes taught by Sandra Tokarski at Bell Trace, a senior living community just down the road from the lab. The art classes cover a wide range of media, and most recently they did book arts. So I guess their visit was kind of their capstone experience!
They were especially interested in some of our big equipment, such as board shears, book presses, and hydraulic guillotine, since their book making was done using only hand tools.
Above Lara Tokarski demonstrates the guillotine, which cuts cleanly through thick stacks of paper and can be used to trim the edges of text blocks.
Here is Vaughn Nuest dazzling the group with facts and figures about the ALF. They also were treated to a peek inside the vault where millions of the Library’s books, archival collections, and AV media are housed.
One brave soul, Sandra Tokarski, was treated by Brian Johnson to a ride on the lift truck!
In April, we had a lovely visit from the Guild of Book Workers / Midwest Chapter, while they were in Bloomington for their annual meeting.
In General Collections Conservation, aka the Book Repair Lab, we discussed the many changes in academic libraries that have led to an evolution in book repair practices, and showed the group some of the newer treatment techniques we are using today. Here I reprise some of that discussion, and then describe one of the board reattachment methods we demonstrated for them, called “thread staples.”
Changing Practices to Meet Evolving Needs
Preservation practices must be able to respond to new patterns of use, and to collecting strategies that are constantly evolving. In the earliest days of library preservation programs, for example, a new type of use — the photocopy machine — helped lead to improved methods in commercial library binding. Double-fan adhesive binding, which has for the most part replaced oversewing since the mid-1980s, allows volumes to lay flat for good capture without causing damage.
And so much has changed in academic libraries over the last two decades. Libraries have adjusted their collection management strategies for print collections in light of the wide availability of digital content, lower use of print, and demand for the space that print collections have occupied in library buildings.
Information resources lead long lives (if they survive) and their value may change over time, so preservation efforts must be able to meet the needs of current users while keeping the long view in mind. Today, selection for preservation and treatment decision-making both take into account these changing values and uses of the print collections. Envisioning the future value collections may hold, and factoring that into the actions taken today, is a challenging but fascinating part of the work of preservation.
Likewise, the approach to the repair and conservation of research book collections has evolved to support these changing strategies and needs. Advances in techniques have come via cross-fertilization among practices in different conservation specializations.
Traditionally, there was a “partitioning” of responsibilities for the remedial care of books in academic libraries1. Repair of circulating, or “general” collections adhered largely to standardized treatment protocols, or “treatment to specification” as described by Glen Ruzicka2. With this approach, the treatment for an item is selected from a set menu. This provides both consistency and efficiency. By contrast, rare book conservation treatment is customized for each item. Typically, different staff in separately equipped labs applied these two distinct approaches, using different materials and methods.
Also in the past, the high-use, circulating books for which standardized treatments were designed often consumed all the available resources for book repair. At the same time, rare book conservation focused on special collections. Older materials in the general collection sometimes fell between the cracks. This was partly due to their lower priority. But it was also because the procedures and skill sets of general collections conservation labs were designed for modern, case-bound books with strong, flexible texts, not for older binding structures or the kinds of deterioration from which they suffer. Options for older materials may have included deferring action by boxing, or reformatting to preserve intellectual content.
Today, new approaches to book repair, which began percolating in the 1990s, have led to greater integration of general and special collections conservation approaches3. Techniques appropriate for older or “medium-rare” books have become part of the repertoire of general collections conservation today. These methods tend to be more reversible, less invasive, and are often less time-consuming. And some practices from the world of general collections that lend efficiency have been adopted in the work of special collections conservation. So with more tools in the proverbial kit bag, we now have the capacity to address the preservation needs of our collections more holistically.
New Tool in Our Kit Bag — Thread Staples
During the MWGBW tour, we showed a variety of techniques used in our lab to solve a common problem of 18th and 19th-century books – detached boards. The attachment fails due to deterioration of the materials, structural design, use, or a combination.
Our repertoire of board re-attachment methods includes Japanese paper hinges, linen tabs, full cloth hinges, cutaway cloth hinges, Ramieband, and one called thread staples.
It is useful especially when you don’t have access to the text block spine, such as in a tight-back binding. It is stronger than Japanese paper hinges, so it can be used on books that are a bit heavier or larger. The first and last signatures need to be well attached.
The thread-staples repair has some things in common with another board re-attachment method called “new slips.” A description may be found in “Binding Repairs for Special Collections at the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center,” by Olivia Primanis, published in the Book and Paper Annual, v. 19 (2000). http://cool.conservation-us.org/coolaic/sg/bpg/annual/v19/bp19-30.html
The basic idea for thread staples is that linen thread is sewn through the folds of the first and last signatures of the text block, and the thread tails are used to attach the boards.
Here is a diagram showing how the threads should end up after the sewing is done: one thread tail at the top and bottom, and two thread tails at every other sewing station:
Sewing can begin from the inside of the signature and come out at the point of the shoulder, or from the point of the shoulder on the outside to the inside of the fold, whichever is easiest. It depends somewhat on the depth of the shoulder. If starting inside, you un-thread the needle after the first pass, put the needle back on the thread inside, and then sew through the next sewing station from the inside.
I sometimes rub some thick paste into the threads right at the shoulder and press the tails toward the text block. This helps get the thread to lean in the right direction, but also protects against accidentally pulling the threads out during subsequent steps.
Next the thread tails are trimmed to the length that will fit under the lifted cover material (or paste-down), and then they are frayed out by untwisting the 3 plies first with your fingers, and then using a needle or awl to separate them further.
You should have something that looks like this:
Then the board is positioned on the text block
and the thread tails are adhered under the lifted cover material. The threads are splayed out, and made tight and flat using first a brush and then rubbing down/pushing inward with a spatula.
We enjoyed the visit from the Guild of Book Workers Midwest Chapter, and it was fun sharing some of our work!
“Integrated Book Repair,” by Gary Frost, Archival Products News, v.7, no. 3, Fall/Winter 1999-2000.
What could a ticket to a Cincinnati Buckeyes baseball game in 1869 have in common with a book of Sophocles’ works in Latin and Greek?
The ticket was signed by B.O.M. DeBeck, third-baseman for the Cincinnati Buckeyes. Here is the text of the advertisement of this rare bit of early baseball memorabilia:
“1869 pass issued by the first baseball team in American history, the Buckeye Base Ball Club of Cincinnati. Partially printed pass instructs: ”Admit Harry Heys and Lady to all games of the BBC” within a printed oval-shaped line. Verso is labeled ”No. 138” and is signed in black by the team’s former third baseman ”B.O.M. DeBeck” as Treasurer. The Buckeyes were the Cincinnati Red Stockings’ original rival, and were eventually absorbed into the Red Stockings. … A scarce baseball collectible.”
The connection is that B.O. M. DeBeck is the former owner of said book, now in the collection of the Indiana University Bloomington Libraries.
And from the number 2221 on the bookplate, it seems that DeBeck had quite a substantial library. A little more poking around on the old Internets reveals that besides playing baseball, B.O.M. DeBeck was a teacher in the Cincinnati public schools.
And he wrote this arithmetic book —
The sad state of DeBeck’s Sophocles is all too common. In the distant past, book repair in libraries meant the creative and copious application of tape. Now we spend our time removing it.
Here are all the pieces of bookcloth tape I removed from DeBeck’s book:
Fortunately, I have an effective method to reduce / remove the dry, crust of adhesive that this type of book cloth tape leaves behind. Klucel G in isopropanol is applied, and then “scrubbed” with a soft brush.
The crud softens, and can be wiped away. It usually take a few applications. I have used this technique with success on cloth and paper too, although it does nothing about the dark brown stains that penetrate the paper, as seen on the left edge of the title page below.
While working on this very damaged book, some words of advice from long ago kept ringing in my ears –
“DON’T PULL, JUST CUT!”
Some of our work is repetitive, tedious, perhaps meditative. For the hour I spent taking this book apart, stitch by stitch, I remembered this advice from long ago. That was way before I became a librarian, or even gave a thought to the idea that you could repair books.
I had a job working in the vast, dark, back room of a downtown retail furrier shop. My job was to repair all the coats brought in for cold storage and cleaning in the summer — all the holes in the fur’s skin, loose linings, fallen-off buttons, snaps, and hooks.
I worked with Bogdan, the furrier, who made new coats, and Stephania, who did alterations. The very first thing Stephania taught me was what to do if I saw a loose thread sticking out of the coat.
“Don’t pull, just cut. If you pull, you could pull apart whole coat!”
Said in the wonderful Polish accent with which she also told about her childhood experiences in a forced labor camp during WWII, and traditional recipes she liked to make, such as plum tarts and brains. I only tried the plum tarts.
The book, Welcome to Cincinnati, was brittle and oversewn. Many pages were broken off, leaving some text on the stubs still attached to the binding with gobs of thread and stitches, otherwise known as oversewing. The result of oversewing is much the same as when you rip pages out of a spiral-bound notebook.
Oversewing is a method of binding a text block that consists of individual sheets of paper, rather sections of folded pages. It is very strong, but also very difficult to repair. Oversewing has been replaced, for the most part, with double-fan adhesive binding — a durable, yet more easily reversible binding.
Oversewing combined with brittle paper is a recipe for disaster. Pulling on the thread would result in more damage and I didn’t want to make even more jigsaw puzzle pieces that I would have to put back together.
So, with tweezers, fine scissors, and a microspatula, I snipped and snipped and snipped until each each stub was free of the snarl of stitches. Then I rejoined the remnants of each page so they could be scanned. There are only a few copies of this book in libraries across the US, and our copy has circulated sort of a lot, which seems natural since it is about one of the big cities in a neighboring state.
I like to believe that no experience, however humble, is a waste of time. Little do we know how things we learn along the way may turn out to be valuable later on.
informal – make one’s own cigarettes from loose tobacco
noun – a cigarette that one has rolled oneself
And the Urban Dictionary provides this usage –
“A situation where someone needs to perform a task but the method to complete the task doesn’t exist so she has to create the solution herself. It derives from “rolling your own” cigarettes versus buying pre-made cigarettes.
Computer programmer #1: Is there a built-in function to filter the database?
Computer programmer #2: Sorry, man, you’re going to have to roll your own.”
How is this relevant to our work in Preservation?
We decided to take a do-it-yourself approach recently when an issue of the luxury art and fashion journal, Visionaire, presented us with something of a challenge.
This journal issue was too large to be stored flat. And although rolling is not ideal, as it may introduce a permanent curl, an object can be rolled onto the outside of a large-diameter tube to minimize this problem. This also avoids the damage that can occur when the object is put inside the tube. So we decided we would buy a 10” diameter tube, roll the journal issue (consisting of just a few pages) around the tube, and make a box to put the tube in. Easy. Oh, just one problem – one tube costs $100!
Being thrifty, and not shying away from a challenge, we decided to try to make our own darn tube. We were not sure it would work! But we took a large sheet of 40-point acid-free board, rolled it up so it was about 8 inches in diameter, and held it together with many rubber bands. Then we just let it sit there like that for few months.
Every so often, we do a group project on a Friday. We like to call these “Fun Fridays.” Sometimes we tackle a project that needs many hands; other times we learn and practice a new technique. Previous Fun Fridays have included making pre-coated repair tissues and forming an assembly line to construct a large batch of Kasemake boxes for delaminating lacquer disk recordings.
So, after a few months passed, we decided to set the roll free one Friday. We took off the restraints. It looked good!
We got the ends of the roll aligned and positioned so it was 10 inches in diameter. We debated how best to affix the inner and outer long edges of the board, both to maintain the diameter and keep the outer end of the board from forming a ridge. After considering PVA, packaging tape, sewing, and 3M 415 double-sided tape, we decided on the double-sided tape. Some of us were more confident about the efficacy of this choice than others, which created some suspense! We applied it to both the inner and outer edges of the board. It took three pairs of hands, but it held!
Then we cut a sheet of Volara, an inert foam, to cover the roll, so the two long edges would meet exactly. We stuck that on with double-sided tape too.
Then we cut a piece of Hollytex the length of the tube, and about 8 inches wider than the object. We laid the object on top of the Hollytex and rolled the two onto the tube together, so that the extra 8-inch tail of Hollytex fully covered the object. We tied it with woven cloth ties.
Finally, we made a box with a lid out of acid-free corrugated board on our Kasemake machine. The 40 x 60-inch board stock was not long enough to make the bottom out of one piece, so we cut separate rectangles with 3 flaps to cover each end and glued them in place.
So, no, we didn’t have to “roll our own” , we could have just bought the $100 tube. But we learned it was possible to make one using materials already on hand in our lab, and had a great Fun Friday working together to solve a problem.