Publishing in the Republic of Letters: The Ménage–Grævius–Wetstein Correspondence 1679–1692 (review)

There is considerable scholarly merit in abstracting a particular seam of archival material in order to illuminate a few specific areas. This is the purpose of Richard Maber's highly scholarly yet accessible edition of two interlocking series of correspondence written between 1679 and 1692 — the letters of the great French scholar Giles Ménage to the Utrecht-based historian Johann-Georg Grævius; and those of the Amsterdam publisher Henrik Wetstein to Ménage in Paris. Their shared subject is the preparation of Ménage's celebrated second edition of Diogenes Laertius, finally published in 1692. Although the Wetstein-Grævius side of the triangle is lost, and the other two sides survive only in one direction, the resulting lattice is richly informative, and, despite the price, Maber's exemplary presentation of this material should be required reading for anyone interested in the later workings of the republic of letters or the history of the book in this period. Maber's introduction presents the dramatis personae of the correspondence and then Ménage's magnum opus itself, his Diogenes Laertius; textual and editorial matters are also clearly explained. The correspondence is sequenced chronologically, presenting the French text of each letter followed by a brief summary in English highlighting points of particular interest; further scholarly annotation is keyed to the text of each letter. Flipping backwards and forwards is thereby avoided, and there are full bibliographies and an index. The achievement of this elegant edition is to offer a unique window onto how scholarly and publishing networks functioned and interacted in the period — and one could not wish for more entertaining characters than the grand old Ménage and the dry, pragmatic Wetstein. Ménage's obsessive interest in the material details of production belies the idea that scholars just left matters up to their printers. '[L]e papier et l'ame de l'édition', Ménage claims (p. 89), but he also demands an expert proof-reader and typesetters who will respect his exact orthography and punctuation. Nor is Wetstein a mercenary: he expertly balances scholarly, aesthetic and pragmatic priorities, and has no problem telling the touchy septuagenarian that he is behaving like a twenty-year old, 'preferant une petite satisfaction de Vous-méme à l'utilité publique' (p. 81). The other great character of the correspondence is Marcus Meibomius, their corrector. Brilliant but unpredictable, Meibomius perennially 'lanterne terriblement' (p. 147); a man born to ruin booksellers, as Wetstein bitterly complains, he is an engagingly serio-comic figure, disappearing for a week without trace, or abandoning his work in order to pursue his pet theory that all the Old Testament is in verse. However, what persists above all is the interdependence of all these men. When Ménage tries to order his printer around, Wetstein resists in no uncertain terms; but even though Wetstein tore his hair out over Meibomius, he himself published the latter's conjectures on Hebrew verse. Behind all the gossip and exasperation of this fourteen-year correspondence lies the fact that these men all needed each other, as collaborators, correctors, publishers, occasional agony-uncles and, above all, mutual publicists.