Author: saucyindexer

Several weeks ago I came across an illustrated collection of tools held by Bibliothèque et Archives nationales du Québec (BAnQ). The approximate date of the collection is 1740, which pre-dates Roubo’s “l’art du Menuisier.” 

The collection, acquired in 1970, includes 84 illustrations. In the BAnQ’s description it is noted the illustrations may be from a catalog as there are prices and the number of tools noted on each page. 

The tools were used by French military forces working on fortresses north of the Rhine. The construction of the fortresses began in the 17th century and were originally led by Marshal Vauban, famed military engineer. 

As the tools were used to build and maintain military battlements, not all were used for woodworking. The gallery below has 20 illustrations, but there may be a few more (I was kicked off the website after falling to prove I was human).

You can view the entire tool collection held by BAnQ here.

A bientôt,
Suzanne Ellison

It’s Labor Day in the United States and Labour Day or Fête du Travail in Canada.

A celebration of the creative work accomplished by hand seems appropriate for today.

The hands making things and hands made by hand were made by:

No. 1 & 8: The right and left hands of “David” by Michelangelo Buonarroti, 1501-1504, Gallerie dall’Accademia, No. 2 & 7: Detail from the woodblock, “Women enacting the process of cutting and printing woodblocks for popular prints,” by Utagawa Kunisada, 1857, British Museum. No. 3: Snapping a line detail from “The Holy Family in the Carpenter’s Shop,” attributed to Jean Tassel, 1608-1667, photo via artnet. No. 4: Detail from “Builders n.1,” by Jacob Lawrence, 1974, Musei Vaticani. No. 5: Detail of a relief panel carved from gypsum alabaster, Neo-Assyrian from Nimrud, ca. 883-859 BCE, Met Museum. No. 6: Detail from “The Lacemaker,” by Johannes Vermeer, 1669-1670, The Louvre. No. 9: Detail of a relief panel carved from gypsum alabaster, Neo-Assyrian from Dur-Sharrukin, ca. 8th century BCE, The Louvre.

Happy Labor or Labour Day – Bonne Fête du Travail!

–Suzanne Ellison

Last November, the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, D.C., received a printing press similar to the type used to print Shakespeare’s First Folios. The printing press was to be part of the Folger’s recent expansion of its exhibit space.

Although Joseph Moxon’s “Mechanick Exercises: Or, the Doctrine of Handy-works: Applied to the Art of Printing” was published six decades after the First Folios were printed, Alan May, an experienced hand at building historic presses, used Moxon’s descriptions as a guide to build the Folger’s press. He also traveled from England to Washington to assemble it.

May notes that Moxon mentions the old-fashioned presses used in England, but is really pushing, and provides much more details on, a new-fashioned press from the Netherlands. Here’s the passage written by Moxon:

Plates 3 and 4, below, show the old-fashioned press (left) and the new-fashioned press (right).

A link to an article about the Folger’s printing press, including May’s approach to building the press and a short video, can be found here.

The Folger has digitized copies of the plays from the First Folio. I pulled up the opening page to “The Tragedie of Julius Caesar,” one of Shakespeare’s plays that mentions a carpenter. As the play begins, the citizens of Rome are taking a day off to celebrate the return of a triumphant Julius Caesar. Two tribunes, Marullus and Flavius, encounter and scold two “certaine Commoners” for not working and not wearing the clothing that signifies their professions. A cobbler accompanying the carpenter, responds to the tribunes’ challenge with some sauciness.

As for Julius Caesar, we know his fate. Don’t we, Marcus Junius Brutus?

— Suzanne Ellison

Scholars, translators, transcribers and writers have always needed to have multiple books and other resources within easy reach. Illustrated manuscripts give us a good look at how medieval scribes stored and arranged their often large and hefty books. 

In the image above, Saint Jerome, identified by the halo, red galero and the lion with a thorn in its paw, is viewed in his study. The shelf above his desk, and the large open shelves surrounding his desk, are cluttered with books as Jerome works on translating the Bible into Latin. The nails on the side of the desk reveal it is of boarded construction, while joinery on the small chest (with Jerome’s red galero atop) is frame and panel.

An image drawn and painted over 700 years earlier gives us a different arrangement.

The Prophet Ezra, a scribe and priest, is illustrated in the Codex Aniatinus, the earliest and most accurate copy of Saint Jerome’s translation of the Latin Bible. He sits in front of a cupboard with a pediment and frame-and-panel double doors. The left-side door has an astragal fashioned into the shape of a column. The frame above and below the doors is carved (or painted) with decorative shapes and symbols. The cupboard resembles a temple, as is appropriate, for within, the shelves hold a Bible in nine bound volumes. Ezra works with his book propped on his lap and seems to have consigned his writing slope to be a footrest. 

According to the Library of Congress this “illumination is among the oldest images in the Western world to show a bookcase and the bindings of books.” The codex is also huge. It has 1,030 folios and measures approximately 505 mm by 340 mm (19.9 in. x 13.4 in.) and weighs 34 kg (almost 75 lb.). 

The codex was made in Northumbria, England, and was to be a gift to Pope Gregory. Ceolfrid, a Benedictine monk, was in Italy on his way to Rome when he died in 716 (hence the date of before 716). A further note is the codex was one of three copies of the Bible made in Northumbria, but the only copy to survive.

Why Were Books Stored Flat?

Although many medieval books written on thick parchment or vellum and often bound in leather could possibly stand on end, titles were not put on the spine until the 16th century. There was also no standardization of book sizes. Some books were small enough to fit in one hand, while others were so large and heavy it took two people to lift one. As a result, books were placed flat, often with the spine turned inwards. The title might be handwritten on the fore edge or foot edge. Alternatively, the title could be written on the cover.

Boethius, in his rather spare accommodations, allows us to see that all the books on his bookshelves have titles on the cover. The titles of the books on the lower shelf are “Musica” and “Arithmetrica.”

In this opening scene of the “Romance of Troy,” the manuscript’s author has imagined the moment when Cornelius Nepos, a Roman biographer, discovers the history of Troy as written by Dares the Phygian. This generous cupboard has sturdy shelves and – not bifold – but tri-fold doors and stands below a small vault that looks to be recessed into the wall. The vault is presumably for the most precious or controversial books.

The appearance of bifold doors in medieval manuscripts makes sense. Books were valuable and needed to be secured in cupboards and scholars and scribes worked in small and cramped spaces. The bifold door with its small footprint was the solution, in fact, it was a very old solution.

Bifold doors were found in ancient Egyptian tombs and have been found in Herculaneum.

The dimensions of the household shrine are 163 cm x 73 cm (64.2 in x 28.7 in). It has all the construction details one would expect in a full-sized cupboard. The Romans used metal for door hinges, as well as bone and ivory. The shrine hinges are an example of bone or ivory.

These types of doors are also described in the temple built by King Solomon in 1 Kings 6:31 and 33.

“For the entrance of the inner sanctuary he made doors of olive wood with five-sided jambs.”

“In the same way he made four-sided jambs of olive wood for the entrance to the main hall.”

A Roundabout Device for More Clunky Books 

On the left, Cornificia, Roman poet and writer of epigrams is unhappy. She needs more books, but her desk is too small. The bookcase is almost full and the wall shelf holds only one measly book. Proba, on the right, also a poet, also has limited work space. She suggests a rotating book holder might be the solution.

Marcus Tullius Macrobius takes a short break from his commentary on Cicero’s “The Dream of Scipio” to agree with Proba. He suggests a book carousel will double your poetic output.

The book carousel was, and still is, an efficient tool on which to prop, and refer to, multiple open books. It can be a desktop tool and has also been configured as a stand-alone piece.

On the left, Saint Luke pauses his writing to mend his quill pen. His study is crowded with a bookcase,  desk and a roomy and ornate hexagonal book carousel. On the right, Saint Luke has a double-decker carousel with the possibility of raising the height for improved reading ergonomics.

Benvenuto da Imola and Saint Luke also benefited from the innovative swing-arm carousel. On the left, Benvenuto, nestled in his own private letter, pauses a moment in his contemplation of Dante’s “Divine Comedy.” He has a revolving carousel that he can swing forward as needed. Saint Luke, on the right, has a swing-arm lantern, a really clever addition to a carousel and a clear precursor to today’s task lighting.

The Whole Enchilada

This scribe, responsible for the manuscript in which he appears, sits ensconced behind his desk. In easy reach are a book cupboard (with bifold doors) and a double-decker carousel. Get a load of the wide book bench with three locking compartments. In his rich and fur-lined garments he mocks us (perhaps that’s just me) with his plethora of book storage. It would serve him right if, despite such bookish ostentation, there is no door behind the blue curtain and he is stuck in this panel of his own making.

What About the Rest of the World?

Many things were underway in other parts of the world. For instance, China invented paper with a full documentation of the papermaking process appearing around 105 CE. Papermaking techniques began in Vietnam in the 3rd century, spread to Korea in the 4th century and on to Japan in the 5th century.  

Documents and books moved from handwritten to printing with woodblocks. Printing with moveable wooden type was developed in China around 1040. The printing of the first books with moveable metal type occurred in Korea in 1234. 

Although the first 13th-century books printed in Korea with moveable metal have not survived, there is one portion of a 14th-century book that did. “Jikji” is a Buddhist text printed in 1377 and is the earliest extant book printed using this new technology. This treasure is in residence at the Bibliothèque Nationale de France.

Stitch-bound books in China, Korea, Vietnam and Japan had paper covers with the title written on the cover, or a label with the title was affixed to the cover. Similar to the European practice, the title might also be written on the fore or foot edge.

Books did not have rigid spines and were placed flat in open shelving. An example can be seen in this chaekgeori, or scholar’s screen, from Korea. 

It was painted by the artist Yi Eungrok and is dated 1860-1874. Chaekgeori translates as “books and things.” The things are items, such as vases, flowers, fruit and the scholar’s writing implements. King Jeonjo (reigned 1776-1800) is credited with the introduction of these screens. When his screen was introduced, court officials thought they were looking at real bookshelves.

In the 8th century in Baghdad, paper began replacing parchment for administrative documents. The Grand Library shows a similar arrangement to the open and evenly spaced bookshelves in Asia.

Before heading back to Europe, it should be noted one other very important paper item came about when the Chinese invented paper: toilet paper. 

The Book Carousel Grows Up

In 1588 Capitano Agostino Ramelli had an idea for a book carousel. In his description of the device he wrote, “…it is very useful and convenient for study, especially for those ill-disposed…because with this type of machine a man can read a large quantity of books without moving from one place.”

Ramelli’s bookwheel had epicyclic gears, with one gear rotating around another, such that the shelves holding the books are held at a constant 45° angle. 

Of course, smaller bookwheels, perhaps inspired by Ramelli’s idea, were made and used in libraries and they have their own kind of elegance. 

Ramelli’s bookwheel did not stay on the pages of his book. The bookwheel and two other learning machines were made for Daniel Libeskin’s exhibit at the 1985 Venice Architecture Biennale. 

The link below provides a few more details about the bookwheel’s construction, difficulties encountered in Venice and what happened to the device after the Biennale.

On The Making Of The Lost Biennale Machines Of Daniel Libeskind

The Robbins Library at the University of Rochester (New York), a non-circulating medieval studies library, has a Ramelli bookwheel. In 2018, the bookwheel was a collaboration between the librarians and four engineering students from the Rochester Institute of Technology. Turning the wheel is described as “an invigorating experience, both physically and intellectually.” The students made a second wheel for the Cary Collection, a graphic arts collection, at RIT.

And, a link showing details of the construction:

https://www.rit.edu/carycollection/renaissance-bookwheel

However you organize your books (alphabetical by author, by subject, by research project, or the I- know-where-everything-is method), Charles Dickens said it best, “We never tire of the friendships we form with books.” Treat them well.

– Suzanne Ellison