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Summaries/Samenvattingen
Femke Prinsen - A valuable addition: the importance of waste material for book history
Printed or handwritten waste material used for bookbinding (‘maculatuur’ in Dutch) is common in books from every period of the history of the West European book. This article deals not only with the use and history of waste material in books, but also with the different values that can be attributed to waste material. It becomes evident that waste material is an intrinsic part of the book's binding material, but it also has a supplemental value because it contains a text or picture. This supplemental value can be appreciated in its own right, but it can also be appreciated for the additional information it may offer about the book it is used in.
The most common sources for recycled paper and parchment are manuscripts and printed books, charters, drawings, letters, pages and printed waste. There are various reasons why printed or handwritten texts have been discarded over time. For instance they could be too damaged to use or they had become obsolete or redundant or their contents were seen as reprehensible.
In the Middle Ages it is most common to find parchment manuscript waste used as cover material and as endleaves. In response to the invention of printing press structural changes began to occur in the bookbinding process. Holding on to medieval practices was no longer feasible; it was too costly and too labour-intensive. Paste boards, parchment covers and spine lining - all often made from waste - became more widely used. At the same time a growing supply of waste material emerged: manuscripts were replaced with printed copies and at the same time new sources of waste material came up, most notably waste from printed material and printer's waste. Over the course of the seventeenth century the use of parchment waste decreased in favour of the use of paper waste. From the eighteenth century, waste material occurred less as cover material, but it was still widely used on non-visible locations, such as back lining - and in case bindings also as inlays -, a practice still in use in twentieth century industrial books.
Waste material has a practical function in a book's construction. In this respect it merely has a material value. For instance the characteristic way strips of spine lining made from waste are cut in a similar way in two different bindings, which makes it possible to attribute both bindings to the same binder (Wolfenbüttel, hab Cod Guelf. 1110 and 1111). The fact that something is written on the waste, however, can make it easier to piece different parts together. Examples are cut-ups from the same manuscript bifolio employed in different locations within a single binding (Leiden, bt 1546) or manuscript waste from the same origin used in different books (Wolfenbüttel, hab E 182a Helmst. 2o, E 182b Helmst. 2o and O 41b Helmst. 2o).
The textual information contained in waste can be useful for establishing the provenance of a book, for instance when dates or (place-)names are mentioned. A piece of newspaper from 1622 used in a binding, for instance, provides a terminus post quem for the making of the binding (Leiden, bt 702). Sometimes there is even a direct relation between the
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contents of the waste and contents of the book. A striking example of this is the proof print of Monotessaron used as lining for the book containing the corrected version of Monotessaron (Leiden, bt 676). This suggests that the proof was either used as a temporary wrapper for the unbound Monotessaron or that the printer had provided printed waste - including the proof - along with the sheets of Monotessaron to the binder.
Apart from the value within the context of the book, waste material has a value in its own right. But then the relationship between waste and binding is still relevant: when a binding (not the book itself) can be dated, it provides a terminus ante quem for dating the fragment.
Because waste material in bookbinding is common in books from almost every period, book conservators inevitably have to deal with waste material at some point. If waste material is encountered during a treatment, alternative options should be examined to make the fragment accessible. For instance, in the case of bindings with missing spine covers where waste material has been used as spine lining, one should consider minimal intervention in order to leave the fragment visible. If that is not an option a photo might be sufficient or one can wait for the development of non-invasive techniques to make the fragment visible.
Furthermore, the value of books as historic objects is increasing and will only increase with the ever ongoing digitisation. In conclusion, in most cases it is advisable not to intervene with the waste material, let alone remove it from its original location.
Henri Defoer - The woodcuts in the Delft and Antwerp editions of the Ludolphian Life of Jesus
On 4 April 1487 appeared in Antwerp an edition of the Ludolphian Life of Jesus. The printer was Gheraert Leeu from Gouda, who in 1484 had moved his printing company to Antwerp. Half a year later, on 22 may 1488 in Delft an edition of the same work came off the printing press. Both editions are richly illustrated with woodcuts. The woodcuts in the Antwerp edition are attributed to three different masters. W. Conway in his Woodcutters of the Netherlands (Cambridge 1884) named them the Haarlem Woodcutter, the Second Gouda Woodcutter and the First Antwerp Woodcutter. The woodcuts in the Delft edition are by one single master, the Second Delft Woodcutter. His woodcuts and that of the First Antwerp Woodcutter match each other in form and composition so much, that we may assume that they have not arisen independent of each other. As the Antwerp edition is the oldest, it is usually assumed that the Antwerp woodcuts have served as an example for the ones in the Delft edition. However, when one looks at the woodcuts more accurate, then it turns out that there are misunderstood details in the Antwerp woodcuts. This is an indication that the ones of the First Antwerp Woodcutter go back on the woodcuts of the Second Delft Woodcutter. It is also clear that an earlier Delft edition is preceded the edition of 22 may 1488, for its title page was already used in a Passionael printed in Delft on 1 march 1487. As well in the Antwerp and in the Delft edition the woodcuts are of varying quality. This indicates, that the designs supplied by a painter can be cut in the wood block by different woodcutters. On the other hand in one atelier the craftsmen can cut the designs of different masters. Details from the woodcuts of the Second Gouda Woodcutter and the First Antwerp Woodcutter tell us that they are cut in the same atelier that probably was located in Gouda. The names given by Conway refer therefore to the designer of the woodcuts and not to the craftsman, who did
cut them. The woodcuts by the Second Delft Woodcutter are stylistically so related tot the paintings of the Master of the Virgo inter Virgines, that they must have been designed by this painter.
It is likely that the woodcuts of the First Antwerp Woodcutter had been especially made for the Ludolphus edition of 4 April 1487. This is not the case with the woodcuts by the Second Gouda Woodcutter and the Haarlem Woodcutter. Gheraert Leeu had used the ones by the Second Gouda Woodcutter previously inter alia in three editions of the Liden ende passie ons Heren in 1482, 1483 and 1485. He must have retrieved the woodcuts by the Haarlem Woodcutter from his colleague Jacob Bellaert in Haarlem, who had close ties with him. When one compares the full and half page woodcuts by
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the Haarlem Woodcutter in the Antwerp edition of 1487 and the ones by the Second Delft Woodcutter in the Delft edition from 1488 with the same subject, it is clear that the latter has based his compositions on that of the Haarlem Woodcutter. It is likely that the Haarlem woodcuts originally were part of a full-illustrated Ludolphus edition by Bellaert that is not been preserved.
Joris Oddens - Ghosts as commodities. A closer look at a 1766 polemic
This contribution deals with a polemic about the question whether ghosts and spirits could exist and whether they in fact did (still) exist. This ‘ghost controversy’ (‘spookgeschil’), as contemporaries called it, caused a short but intense hype among the Dutch reading public in 1766. The ghost controversy took place during the High Enlightenment, but it was partly a reiteration of the wider debate about the supernatural that had followed the publication of Balthasar Bekker's De Betoverde Weereld (1691). While making clear that even among the educated classes in the Dutch Republic the belief in ghosts had far from withered, most contributors to the ghost controversy set themselves apart from their late seventeenth-century counterparts through a playful tone and a propensity to capitalize on the reading public's hunger for sensation. This cannot be said of the The Hague-based Dutch Reformed minister Petrus Nieuwland, who published in 1765, as part of a multi-volume miscellaneous collection, a short essay in which he questioned that it was possible to prove the non-existence of ghosts. Nieuwland wrote for an small crowd of learned sympathizers and he never intended for his essay to spark a public controversy. The essay drew the attention, however, of Egbert Buys, a fellow citizen of The Hague and - according to Buys' own statement - a regular visitor of Nieuwland's services. Buys had condemned ghost belief as a superstitious practice in his own spectatorial weekly almost two decades earlier. Whether it was because he was sincerely annoyed by Nieuwland's rather condescending discussion of the topic or because he saw an opportunity to make some profit with relatively little effort is difficult to say, but Buys - using a pseudonym - responded to Nieuwland with a long treatise, for which he recycled parts that he had originally written for the spectator. Buys' treatise elicited a longer response from
Nieuwland, to which Buys in turn responded one more time. Moreover, the apparent appeal the topic of this exchange had among potential buyers triggered a number of others to attempt to get a piece of the pie as well. New publications included a pirate edition of Nieuwland's first essay - which normally would only have been available to buyers of the expensive collection of essays it had originally appeared in - and a satirical response to Nieuwland in verse. The publishers of the various contributions to the controversy advertised in newspapers, as did the Amsterdam booksellers who, incited by the renewed interest in supernatural phenomena that the controversy had spurred, made known to the public that they had been able to get their hands on some copies of an old edition of De Betoverde Weereld.
While briefly summarizing the argument at stake, this contribution is primarily concerned with the ways different actors - authors, publishers, booksellers - strategically engaged with expectations the eighteenth-century reading public had with regard to controversies (pennenstrijd). As well as to the controversy itself I pay attention to the meta-text that accompanied it in the form of publisher's prefaces, book reviews, newspaper adds, and a letter to the editor from an angry admirer of Nieuwland. Besides being a book historical case study about the phenomenon of controversy, this article also presents the ghost controversy as a key moment in a process that has been referred to as ‘the commodification of the ghost’: regardless of whether people were still believing in them, ghosts (or, more precisely, ghost stories) were discovered as commodities for which the reading public was willing to pay.
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Lieke van Deinsen - ‘Devoted to art alone’. Living and reliving the cultural past in the meeting room of the eighteenth-century poetical society ‘Kunst wordt door arbeid verkreegen’ (‘Art is attained through labour’)
In the second half of the eighteenth century, literary culture in the Dutch Republic was increasingly situated in a societal context. Eighteenth-century literary societies were primarily founded as a response to the urge to call a halt to the perceived decline of national culture. By combining forces, literature lovers tried to give a new impulse to the study of the vernacular literary tradition with the ambition to, eventually, recall the golden age of Dutch literature. These literary societies sought inspiration in the traditions and practices of the old chambers of rhetoric. From the fifteenth century onwards literati united in chambers with the intention to both improve the Dutch literature and purify the language from foreign influences. Especially the central function of the meeting room as a base for the literary activities of these chambers inspired eighteenth-century literati. In line with the old chambers, the ideal of literary sociability was, as this article will argue, embodied by the eighteenth-century society's meeting rooms and their, often comprehensive, material collections: an aspect of eighteenth-century societal culture that has received surprisingly limited attention.
One of the most active literary societies in the Dutch Republic was Kunst wordt door arbeid verkreegen (Art is attained through labour). The meeting rooms of this Leiden society functioned as a case study in the exploration of the fundamental interaction between material culture and eighteenth-century societal practices. From the establishment of the society in 1766, the several meeting rooms the society occupied not only functioned as the practical décor of the society's gatherings but also became symbolic places devoted to the flourishing of Republic's literary tradition. Members were surrounded during their meetings by the books, the poems and the portraits of their esteemed predecessors. A replica of the memorial placed on Vondel's grave in the Nieuwe Kerk in Amsterdam in 1772 decorated the wall, and the long table was decked out on special occasions with literary ornaments. The society's pride and joy, the Panpoëticon Batavûm, was aligned with the long table. This wooden cabinet containing the portraits of over 330 Dutch writers. Following the purchase of the cabinet in 1772, the Panpoëticon prompted several of the society's members to express the long-cherished wish to raise Dutch literature to a new level. A variety of other projects were initiated in the spirit of the Panpoëticon.
A digital reconstruction of the meeting room that housed Kunst wordt door arbeid verkreegen from 1772-1780 shows both this central position of the Panpoëticon and the importance of material culture for societal activities. The 3D model allows us to better understand the experience of the eighteenth-century visitor. Upon entering the room, the long conference table immediately draws the visitor's eye towards the cabinet which is placed against the southern wall. After entering the room, the visitor would most likely have taken a turn to the right passing along the society's extensive book collection, before coming face to face with the monument in memory of Vondel. After paying respects to the ‘prince of Dutch poetry’ and continuing the tour to the other end of the room the visitor would pass several literary memorabilia: portraits of poets, old blazons of chambers of rhetoric, an allegory on the arts over the chimney, a statue of Apollo, and framed poems from both admired literary predecessors as society prominents. The visitor would then reach the goal of the tour, the Panpoëticon Batavûm. The placement of the cabinet in the room was significant; it was opened up during annual meetings to give members a sense of belonging to the illustrious literary company it contained.
In an attempt to share this experience with a broader public, the meeting room became a semi-public space. Its accessibility was advertised in both national and international journals, stating that the doors were always open to interested visitors. Over the years, hundreds of literature enthusiasts from all over the country came to visit the meeting room to experience the nations literary past. Visitors from outside the Republic also travelled to the meeting room in Leiden. The accounts of these visits stressed how the direct proximity of books, portraits and poems of esteemed predecessors and other literary and historical memorabilia inspired both the society members and external literature lovers in their efforts to rehabilitate Dutch literary culture.
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Marja Smolenaars - 1766: the year of the Maatschappij der Nederlandse Letterkunde (Society of Dutch Literature) and the washing machine
This article is an adaptation of a paper given at a symposium in honour of the 250th anniversary of the Society of Dutch Literature. When any research is done on the book production in the Netherlands before the year 1800, the Short-Title Catalogue, Netherlands (stcn) must be consulted as an indispensable source. The author will show in this article that this does not necessarily entail just looking into serious multivolume tomes, as the book production of the year 1766 also had its lighter moments.
The Society was not primarily set up to amuse its members, but was to have an educational role in spreading knowledge about the Dutch language, its poetry and its history. Each year, the members were supposed to hand in a paper on one of these subjects. An annual publication of the papers proved a bit too ambitious, but the Handelingen (Transactions) appeared regularly from 1766 onwards. Is it possible to see a positive effect on the book production due to the efforts of the Society?
The author compared the book production in the years before and after 1766 using the data available in the stcn and, although the number of titles published in 1766 was greater than those in the years immediately preceding it, the 1760s as a whole saw a production lower than what it had been in the 1730s. The 1740s had seen an upward trend, but after 1750, a downturn developed with its lowest point in the year 1760. From then on, the trend was upwards with a peak in the late 1780s, caused by the steady stream of pamphlets directly related to the volatile political situation at the end of the eighteenth century. The year 1766 was not a particularly spectacular year as regards the number of published titles, nor can a link be established between the Society and the upward trend in production in the following years.
It is, however, possible to look at other aspects. Did the influence of the Society, for instance, cause more Dutch-language material to be published? Throughout the centuries, the prominence of the vernacular as the language of choice in publications had steadily increased, so it is no surprise that more than half the publications in 1766 were in Dutch. A look at the material published in that year, distributed according to the various subjects (history, literature, etc.), showed that official state publications were all in Dutch, not surprising if the general public was to be reached. On the opposite end of the scale were publications concerning the law; these were for the most part in Latin, which can be explained by the high number of academic dissertations in the database. Of note is the fact that only half the literary and scientific publications were in Dutch. Most literary and linguistic works not in Dutch were written in French, the rest in Latin. Even the Society, despite promoting the Dutch language, had no problem with contributions to their Handelingen in Latin.
Many more serious tables, graphs and comparisons can be made from the stcn data, but research into the 1766 publications also showed a more light-hearted side of life. An example is an anonymous Latin poem written to honour Stadholder Willem v, which hides its year of publication in a chronogram: maiorennis revntiatvs belgii confoederati habenas capesseret = miivivliicdic = mdccvviiiiii = 1766. A far more spectacular event was organised by the students to celebrate the Stadholder's visit to Utrecht: an impressive fireworks display. Songbooks were a regular part of book production, some more serious than others and in 1766, one of the more frivolous genre was published in Medemblik. One of the songs concerned four men who thought to earn good money with an oyster bank, but alas, the oysters did not survive the frost and had to be returned to the sea. A final example is a publication on the invention of the washing machine. Jacob Christan Schäffer had invented a way of making the washing process more efficient. The ‘machine’ shown in the illustration included in his booklet shows a remarkable similarity with the ‘Yorkshire maiden’ described in The Gentleman's Magazine of 1752, so it is debatable whether Schäffer was indeed the inventor of the washing machine.
Despite the earnest attempts by the Society, book production in 1766 did not just address serious literary, linguistic or historical affairs, but also the pleasures and irritations of everyday life. The number of titles in Dutch increased throughout the eighteenth century, but no correlation with the efforts of the Society could be established. Although 1766 was a milestone in the linguistic and literary history of the Netherlands, it was not a remarkable or important year in the history of Dutch book production.
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Hans Spijker - Verminkingen en foute vertalingen? De invloed van uitgevers en vertalers op de Franse, Engelse en Nederlandse postume edities van Isaac Titsinghs Beschryving van Japan
De 1391 dagen die Isaac Titsingh (1745-1812) in de jaren 1779-1784 doorbracht op Dejima, het kunstmatige eiland in de baai van Nagasaki, stonden naast zijn werkzaamheden als voc-opperhoofd in het teken van onderzoek naar Japan. Titsingh was, in grotere mate dan veel van zijn voorgangers en opvolgers, geïnteresseerd in het land waarmee zijn werkgever handel dreef. In een kleine vier jaar tijd wist hij met behulp van goed onderhouden relaties met Japanse contactpersonen informatie te verzamelen over verscheidene aspecten van de Japanse cultuur die tot dan toe onbekend waren in Europa. Uitgebreide beschrijvingen van huwelijks- en begrafenisrituelen en kronieken van Japanse heersers behoorden tot de nieuwe bronnen die Titsingh mee terug zou nemen naar Europa. Na zijn terugkomst in Europa in 1796 besteedde hij vrijwel al zijn tijd aan het afronden van zijn manuscript, dat de werktitel Beschryving van Japan droeg. Beschryving van Japan bestond uit drie delen, waarvan het laatste deel nooit afgerond zou worden. Het was geen reisverhaal, maar een bronnenuitgave van Japanse en Chinese literatuur, die Titsingh in samenwerking met Japanse tolken had vertaald tijdens zijn verblijf op Dejima. Deze bronnen werden zo nu en dan voorzien van eigen beschouwingen van Titsingh, maar over het algemeen waren zijn persoonlijke bijdragen ondergeschikt aan de vertalingen.
Titsingh had zijn manuscript, dat oorspronkelijk in het Nederlands was geschreven, zelf in het Frans en Engels vertaald. Hij veronderstelde dat dit de kans op publicatie vergrootte en bovendien tot een breder lezerspubliek zou leiden. Titsingh slaagde er tijdens zijn leven echter niet in om zijn volumineuze manuscript op de markt te krijgen. Hij stierf in 1812 in Parijs en zijn Beschryving van Japan bleef nog enkele jaren onuitgegeven. De Franse uitgever Auguste-Nicolas Nepveu bracht hier verandering in. Hij kreeg enkele jaren na Titsinghs dood een deel van diens collectie in handen. Deze collectie bevatte de Franse vertaling van Beschryving van Japan. Nepveu ging tot publicatie van dit manuscript over; in 1819 en 1820 verschenen de eerste twee delen van Beschryving van Japan, getiteld respectievelijk Cérémonies usitées au Japon, pour les mariages, les funérailles, et les principales fêtes de l'année en Mémoires et anecdotes sur la dynastie régnante des djogouns, souverains du Japon. Interesse in Engeland bleef niet lang uit en in 1822 werd Illustrations of Japan uitgegeven door de Brits-Duitse uitgever en boekverkoper Rudolph Ackermann (1764-1834). De Engelse journalist Frederic Shoberl (1775-1853) redigeerde het werk.. Ten slotte werden in 1824 en 1825 in Nederland twee delen van Bijzonderheden over Japan uitgegeven door Suzanna Martha Hebert (1783-1871). Deze twee delen waren niet gebaseerd op Titsinghs originele, Nederlandse manuscript, maar op Shoberls Engelse vertaling van de Cérémonies en Mémoires.
De postume publicaties gebaseerd op Titsinghs levenswerk Beschryving van Japan doen volgens Titsingh-experts als Frank Lequin en Charles Ralph Boxer geen recht aan het originele manuscript. Zij verwijten uitgevers en vertalers de verminking en misvorming van Titsinghs nagelaten werk. Waarom dit het geval zou zijn wordt door hen nauwelijks toegelicht. In dit artikel onderzoek ik waarop deze kritiek is gebaseerd en in hoeverre de inhoud van Titsinghs originele manuscript schade is aangedaan. Door middel van vergelijkingen tussen de Franse, Engelse en Nederlandse uitgaven van Titsinghs werk Beschryving van Japan, toon ik onderlinge verschillen tussen de afzonderlijke versies. De verschillen tussen deze uitgaven zijn vooral te vinden in de lengte en toevoegingen van voetnoten, herstructureringen van de tekst en weglatingen van passages. Tegelijkertijd poog ik de kritiek van historici als Boxer en Lequin te nuanceren door te wijzen op de gebreken in Titsinghs manuscript. Voornamelijk de incorrecte, inconsistente spelling van namen en plaatsen en de onvolledigheid van vertaalde teksten zijn factoren die meegewogen moeten worden in de uiteindelijke beoordeling van de postume uitgaven van Titsinghs manuscript. Ook is er aandacht voor verspreiding van Titsinghs collectie door Europa, een proces dat kort voor zijn dood in 1812 werd ingezet. Zijn collectie, die voornamelijk uit boeken, kaarten en prenten bestond, kwam in handen van verscheidene eigenaren uit verschillende landen. De verspreiding van Titsinghs collectie was met name een probleem voor de Nederlandse uitgevers. Zij wisten Titsinghs Nederlandse origineel niet te vinden en baseerden het tweedelige Bijzonderheden over Japan op de, zwaar bewerkte, Engelse uitgave van Ackermann.
De conclusie is dat het Nederlandse Bijzonderheden over Japan het meest afwijkt van Titsinghs origineel, en boven- | |
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dien het minst in de geest van Titsingh is uitgegeven. De Nederlandse vertalers hebben zijn wens om een zo compleet en allesomvattend mogelijk boekwerk over Japan op de markt te brengen, het minst vervuld.
Karin Scheper - The study of the book as object, the conservator as researcher
This paper is an adapted version of a talk the author gave on the occasion of receiving the De la Courtprijs for her bookarchaeological study of Islamic manuscripts.
Books are complex artefacts, and the study of the material aspects of the book requires specialist knowledge. The structural composition and the mechanical properties of the materials of which they are made are decisive for their functionality. Conservators have an extensive technical understanding of the objects they work with, and they are trained to examine the artefacts carefully and make a detailed documentation of their observations. Book conservators are, therefore, especially well-equipped for the kind of examination this field of study entails. However, not all of the knowledge that conservators have gathered from working with so many and diverse books is accessible for other scholars. Conservators nowadays may be academically trained, in their daily practice they are pressed to be productive in terms of conservation treatments; time or incentive to publish or conduct research is usually lacking. A large potential to gain information from their unique position and abilities remains therefore untapped, though some conservators do find opportunities to contribute to the history of the book.
For conservators, one of the motives for undertaking a study of the physical book or a collection is the need to obtain a better understanding of the objects in order to develop a conservation strategy. This was certainly the case when the author started working with the Oriental collections in the Leiden University Library (ubl). Secondary sources about the Islamic bookmaking tradition proofed insufficient. Most publications dealt with art historical issues, codicological information was scarce and biased. A large survey of the ubl's manuscripts in Arabic script generated new insights and lead to a changed understanding of the manuscript culture in the Islamic world. The study started out to increase knowledge that would allow for a better informed conservation approach and the development of new intervention techniques. The results of the physical assessment, however, when analysed and compared with the historic treatises and secondary sources, also offered book historical information that proved interesting to other scholars working with these manuscripts. Some bookbinding techniques and materials applied to produce these objects appeared to be regional specific or are used in a restricted period, and therefore support establishing a book's provenance. Furthermore, with the outcome of the larger study it was possible to refute several faulty ideas about a weakness in the Islamic bookbinding that have caused bookbinders and conservators to change original Islamic book constructions into western or hybrid structures, thereby destroying irreplaceable historical information.
This paper argues that the craft-based knowledge of a conservator results in a different angle of approach when it comes to the physical examination of the book and the interpretation of the findings. The study into the development of the Islamic bookbinding tradition is a case in point. It questions the depreciation of the Islamic manuscript as an artefact and explores the origin of these assumptions. It also shows that the expertise of a book conservator may lead to a better understanding of book structures and the observation of details that are overlooked by codicologists. Since the study of the book as an object has gained solid ground in the field of book history, it is important to acknowledge that the conservator plays a substantial part in it.
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Marieke van Delft - Illegal and underground in the sixteenth century? The ‘Delft book find’
In 1989 an antiques dealer in Delft found six heretical books hidden in his house. He offered these books to the Koninklijke Bibliotheek, National Library of the Netherlands (kb). One of the books was already available in the kb, but the others were not - in fact, they were in no Dutch public collection. Moreover, of four of them no other copy was known, although two were named in early modern sources. The kb bought five of the six books. One of them was a composite volume with three texts of the German spiritistic thinker Sebastian Franck: Getuygenisse der Schrift (ca. 1560), Hantboecxken (ca. 1560) and Van Christo den sone Gods (ca. 1555). The same combination is present in libraries in Göttingen and London. Then there was another text of Franck, Den boom, des wetens, (ca. 1554), a work by Dirk Philips, Van die rechte kennisse Jesu Christi (1564) and two often printed anonymous books, Summa der godtlijcker scriftueren (1557 =1560?) and the Theologia Duytsch, with a foreword by Martin Luther (1564). The sixth book, already in the kb and not acquired, was a book by Johannes Sleidanus, Waerachtige beschriuinge hoe dattet met de religie gestaen heeft (1558). Most of these editions can be connected with the Anabaptists, a Christian movement that had many followers in the Northern Netherlands. All books were printed anonymously, but five of the eight texts seem to be printed in Emden, a German town where many Dutch Reformation printers found a safe haven.
In the sixteenth century, the oppression and censure of heresies in the Low Countries - then ruled by Charles v and later Philip ii - was severe. Both the secular and religious authorities tried to suppress the Reformation through decrees that condemned certain books. Heretics were prosecuted and banned or even executed. Heretical books like the ones hidden in Delft were stricly forbidden. The printing, selling or possession of that kind of material was ruthlessly punished, as can be seen in the reports of the Inquisition.
In Delft, Reformation powers were strong. Early in the sixteenth century Lutheran ideas found followers in the city as did the ideas of the Anabaptists. After the Beeldenstorm or Iconoclastic Fury, the destruction of religious images by the reformers that took place in the Low Countries in 1566 - the Duke of Alva was sent to the Netherlands to prosecute rebels and heretics. Due to his oppressive government many were captured and fear reigned the country. In Delft the printer Harmen Schinckel was executed in 1568 in the Market square, as were some Anabaptists three years later. The house where the books were found is situated at the Vrouwenregt near the Market square. The executions, especially of the Anabaptists, may have caused a sixteenth century reader to hide them.
There was some discussion concerning the discovery of the books, because the construction date of the house at Vrouwenregt 2 is unclear. The Delft Historic Building Council dated the house to 1600-1625. With documents provided by the antiques dealer, research in Delft Archives and information of building historians it was assessed that the house was built in the second half of the sixteenth century, after the great fire that destroyed two-thirds of the city of Delft in 1536. It is plausible that the books were hidden in the house at Vrouwenregt 2 in Delft at a time when the persecution of heretics was at its peak. In 1571 several Anabaptist were executed in the Market square, very close to Vrouwenregt 2, the house where the books were found. This may have been the reason for the books to be hidden between the rafters of the ceiling of the ground level.
Bert Sliggers - The Taurel brothers, booksellers of erotica and pornography in Amsterdam, 1930-1940
This article describes the activities of the brothers André and Henri Taurel, two Amsterdam booksellers in the 1930s, who gave the local vice squad a lot of work. From 1930 their names can be found in legal reports. Successive convictions and even detention dit not stop them from starting their business in books, magazines and photographs which were considered offensive over and over again. After every confiscation of their trade, the Taurel brothers replaced their stocks in very short time. The doings of the Taurel brothers can be examined closely in the prosecution reports that are kept in the Dutch National Archives in The Hague.
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The confiscated trade of the Taurel brothers played an important role in the government's policy against indecent publications. The huge inventories in the Taurel bookstores formed the basis of lists of pornographic books and magazines produced by the Rijkbureau betreffende de bestrijding van de handel in vrouwen en kinderen en van de handel in ontuchtige uitgaven (‘State bureau for the prosecution of trade in women and children and of trade in indecent publications’).
These lists were considered necessary after 1930, when the Rijksbureau became an official institute for the detection of erotic and pornographic books. The Rijksbureau was given the task to provide the police departments and the legal system with detailed information on these publications, in order to allow prosecution. Therefore, the Rijksbureau had to create classifications of the offensive character of erotic books and magazines. Especially the distinction between the erotic as a form of art and the erotic as porn proved to be quite difficult to establish. For this task, a board of specialists (art historians, law professors and teachers) was added to the Rijksbureau. Erotic publications that were considered by the Rijksbureau not to have any relation with the arts, did not have to pass this board and were left to the prosecution policy of local police detectives.
After every seizure of huge amounts of dubious publications at the Taurels, the Rijksbureau produced new lists of indecent publications. They appeared in 1932, 1934, 1937, and 1943. From these successive lists several developments can be identified. The distinctions the Rijksbureau made between pornography and erotic or ‘realist’ literature seem to increase in this period. The erotic and ‘realist’ novels and tales were considered to be less harmful for the general public. The confiscation of these kinds of publications became less urgent in the eyes of the servants of the Rijksbureau. Pornography, however, and especially pornographic photography, was still considered to require urgent prosecution. The classifications of indecent and immoral photographs were also constantly based on confiscated examples that came from the bookstores of the Taurel brothers.
The Taurel brothers unwillingly played an important role in the Dutch prosecution of pornography in the 1930s. Their extensive trade in pornography in all its forms and the repeated confiscations of their piles of indecent publications urged the responsible state bureau to develop policy. This Rijksbureau created detailed classifications of the inventories of the Taurels, with rankings of immorality, that had to aid the prosecutors in court.
The police also tried to classify photographs, most of them from the Taurels, in terms of immorality. The conclusion is that the Taurels unintentionally defined the policy of the Rijksbureau with regard to scandalous books, magazines and photography.
Arno Kuipers - The realistic novel and the ‘realistic novel’. On the term ‘realistic novel’ as a code for erotic works (1880-1970)
During the second half of the nineteenth century the Dutch literary world experienced the rise of the realist novel. Under the influence of foreign, especially French authors like Gustave Flaubert and Emile Zola literary realism took the lead in het development of the Dutch novel. The romanticist, idealistic and historical novels of the preceding era were pushed to the margins of literary history. In the new realist genre authors turned to daily life in all its facets and at the same time explicit moral comments by the author's voice faded.
Especially with the intensification of realism in naturalism, attention for all the facets of daily life meant that sexual life became an essential topic for the new novels as well. For Emile Zola, the French founder of the naturalist novel, the close examination of bedroom behavior and its social context was at the heart of his literary project. In Dutch realistic novels eroticism also came to the foreground. The novels Klaasje zevenster (1866) by Jacob van Lennep and Lidewyde (1868) by Conrad Busken Huet caused scandals because of the explicit description of brothels and adultery. Moral outrage was also caused by Lodewijk van Deyssel who explicitly described a masturbating female character in his naturalist novel Een liefde (1887).
In the public opinion these developments lead to a strong tie between realism and the erotic. This relation was so strong that the apparently neutral designation ‘realist novel’ turned into a code for the erotic or pornographic novel. Pub- | |
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lishers in the lowbrow-market, especially those operating in the grey area between allowed and illegal publications, even went so far as to add the subtitle ‘realistic novel’ to the title pages of their erotic works.
This article examines the development of the designation ‘realist novel’ as a code for erotic books from the rise of realism after 1850 until the 1970s. It appears that the explicit use of code ‘realist novel’ disappeared after the sexual revolution of the 1960s. But up to present day the term ‘realism’ will occasionally pop up in a curious combination of euphemism and recommendation for erotic works. In this article it is argued that the use of the term ‘realist novel’ in the Dutch low brow media can be traced back to the realism and naturalism of Emile Zola and his Dutch nineteenth-century counterparts from the highbrow literary world.
Sjors de Heuvel - The free book in Leiden. The clandestine publications of the A.W. Sijthoff publishing company 1943-1945
During the German occupation of the Netherlands in World War ii, the Nazis introduced new censorship regulations that increasingly restricted the publication of new poetry and prose. To counter the lack of available literature in wartime, hundreds of Dutch amateurs and professionals engaged in the publication of ‘underground’ books and periodicals. According to the bibliographer Dirk de Jong, these publications can be divided into two categories: ‘clandestine’ literature was produced outside of the German censorship system, but did not necessarily agitate against the occupying forces. ‘Illegal’ literature was created under the same circumstances and harboured an explicit anti-German message. All were produced in small print runs, usually between ten and a few hundred copies.
In the years preceding World War ii, the A.W. Sijthoff publishing company (and print shop) of Leiden published a series of German-language academic books by German(-Jewish) scientists exiled by the Nazi regime. When the Netherlands became German occupied territory in May 1940, the company was strictly observed for suspicious activity. Sijthoff director S.G. van Looy saw the production rate of his company decline steadily over the years, as the Nazis approved fewer manuscripts for publication, and more and more staff was called to work in Germany. Between 1943 and 1945, Sijthoff participated in the publication of 25 clandestine works, including essays, poetry, and a novella. Eight of these titles were initiated by Van Looy, while the others were created at the request of various local authors, publishers, and literary figures. However, Sijthoff printed and bound all publications.
While Sijthoff's clandestine output shows a high degree of craftsmanship in terms of production and design, its contents vary in quality. With some notable exceptions, most were written by authors who have played only a minor role in Dutch literary history. As such, Sijthoff's clandestine works mainly catered to an audience of bibliophiles. They were sold under the counter of book shops, or distributed among a predesignated group of subscribers. In some cases revenues were donated to people in hiding. In general, the Nazis responded ambivalently to clandestine publishing activities. In practice only the publication of severely anti-German literature, or being caught red-handed in the production process would be followed by further investigation and arrests. As the printer and binder of 25 clandestine works, Sijthoff put itself at a considerable risk.
Taking into account the nature of the books published, the degree to which the company was involved in initiating new publications, and the Germans' ambivalence towards clandestine publishing in general, Sijthoff's underground output should not be regarded as a strong act of resistance. Instead, it is safer to view these works as an amiable continuation of the company's pre-war stance on the freedom of publication for all.
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Maghiel van Crevel - From China with love. Onofficiële Chinese poëzietijdschriften in de Universiteitsbibliotheek Leiden
De Universiteit Leiden bezit een unieke verzameling onofficiële poëzietijdschriften uit de Volksrepubliek China uit de late jaren '70 tot nu. Verrassend genoeg debuteerde iedereen die iets voorstelt in de hedendaagse Chinese poëzie juist in deze bladen. Met andere woorden: ondanks, of misschien wel juist door hun status als ‘onofficieel’, hebben deze bladen een grote invloed gehad op de hedendaagse literatuur en cultuur van China. Daarmee vormen ze fascinerend materiaal, zowel voor de boekgeschiedenis als voor de sinologie, de literatuurwetenschap en de cultuursociologie.
In het China van Mao - van de jaren 1940 tot en met de Culturele Revolutie (1966-1976) - waren literatuur en kunst een politiek instrument, met de beroemde opdracht om ‘het volk te dienen’. Maar sinds het einde van de jaren 1970 wordt de ‘officiële’ poëzie, die trouw is aan het cultuurbeleid van de regering - een ‘gezonde’ poëzie die de lof van het vaderland zingt, enzovoort - in de schaduw gesteld door wat in China ‘avant-garde’ poëzie wordt genoemd. De meeste, zo niet alle, avant-garde carrières beginnen in de ‘onofficiële’ poëziescene, die zijn wortels heeft in ondergrondse lees- en schrijfkringen tijdens de Culturele Revolutie.
De onofficiële scene is de bakermat van de tijdschriften in de Leidse collectie, maar ook van andere publicaties: boeken door een of meerdere auteurs, blogs en posts op sociale-mediasites en websites. Onofficiële publicaties verschijnen overal in het grijze gebied tussen legaal en illegaal - voor zover het Chinese rechtssysteem betrouwbare criteria biedt voor die termen. Zelfcensuur wordt gestimuleerd doordat de autoriteiten opzettelijk vage richtlijnen combineren met de dreiging van strenge straffen. Tegelijkertijd biedt de onofficiële scene oneindig veel meer verscheidenheid en ruimte voor experiment, en eenvoudigweg veel betere poëzie dan de officiële literaire kanalen.
Vanaf ongeveer 2000 heeft het internet een volstrekt nieuwe dimensie toegevoegd aan de verspreiding van poëzie in China. Het web biedt enerzijds onderdak aan de buitengewoon fatsoenlijke officiële verzen en anderzijds aan politiek dissidente teksten, én daartussenin aan een brede stroom van onofficiële avant-garde poëzie in alle soorten en maten. Het internet heeft duidelijk sommige functies overgenomen van de onofficiële gedrukte tijdschriften, en nieuwe toegevoegd, zoals het bevorderen van poëziegerelateerde multimediavormen. In de eerste jaren van de nieuwe eeuw leidde de groei van het internet tot een terugloop van gedrukte tijdschriften, maar inmiddels hebben die een comeback gemaakt, vanwege het instabiele, vluchtige karakter van web content in China, en omdat mensen het leuk vinden om gedrukte bladen te maken en te lezen.
Avant-gardedichters met enig zelfrespect zullen het etiket ‘officieel’ nooit accepteren als het gaat om literaire esthetiek, want dat zou betekenen dat hun werk staats-orthodoxe voorkeuren weerspiegelt, in thematiek en dergelijke. Maar naast onofficiële media, zien zo'n beetje alle dichters hun werk ook graag verschijnen in tijdschriften en boeken die in institutioneel opzicht wel degelijk gelden als ‘officieel’: formeel geregistreerde publicaties met een colofon met bibliografische gegevens, een vaste prijs enzovoort. Men kan publiceren in officiële bladen en boeken en desondanks erkend worden als een esthetisch onofficieel dichter, al zijn dit zeker geen oncontroversiële kwesties. Het omgekeerde komt nauwelijks voor. Dichters die als esthetisch officieel te boek staan publiceren zelden in bladen en boeken die onofficieel zijn in de institutionele zin.
Ondanks de grillige versoepeling van het cultuurbeleid vanaf de late jaren 1970 behoudt de onofficiële poëziescene zijn betekenis: niet alleen omdat de politieke onderdrukking voortduurt, en ook niet alleen in vergelijking met de officiële staatskunst, die staat of valt met haar inbedding in een orthodox discours. Het is eerder zo dat hoewel officiële en onofficiële poëziescenes niet langer tegenover elkaar staan en soms zelfs overlappen, de onofficiële scene ook op zichzelf blijft gedijen, in het hart van een levendig poëzieklimaat dat cruciaal is voor de ontwikkeling van individuele dichters, en van de scene als geheel.
Mijn recente veldwerk bevestigt eens te meer dat de onofficiële tijdschriften een onuitwisbaar stempel hebben gedrukt op de Chinese poëzie, dat de Leidse collectie een groot aantal baanbrekende en invloedrijke exemplaren bevat, en
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dat deze tijdschriften vooraan hebben gestaan bij een explosie van creativiteit in literatuur en kunst, en een waterscheiding in de Chinese cultuurgeschiedenis.
Kevin Absillis - ‘Publishers are tragic people’. On the biographies of Emanuel Querido, Geert van Oorschot, Johan Polak, and Rob van Gennep, traders in books
This article reviews four recent biographies of major twentieth century Dutch publishers, viz. Emanuel Querido (1871-1943), Geert van Oorschot (1909-1987), Rob van Gennep (1937-1994) and Johan Polak (1928-1992). The author discusses their strong points and weaknesses successively, but ultimately aims to read these four books as chapters of an overarching story on literary publishing in the Netherlands, indicating unexpected connections, more generic evolutions in the profession as well as blind spots in current biographical research.
The following observations stand out: notwithstanding a notable increase in scale, Dutch literary publishing remained a small, only loosely organized and sometimes inefficiently managed business. Contrary to the autonomous character the Dutch literary field supposedly attained in the twentieth century, all four of these publishers maintained outspoken and clearly visible ties with mostly left wing and in the case of Van Gennep even extreme left wing political parties and/or programs. The biographies on Querido and Polak especially underscore a Jewish minority's formidable contribution to the Dutch literary culture.
Finally, this article confronts the outcome of the recent biographical research under scrutiny with the theoretical ambitions of a sociological approach to literary publishing history and suggests that the latter ambitions are perhaps always doomed to fall short in view of the capriciousness of history documented by books such as the ones under review here.
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