Une archéologie du livre français moderne (review)

In this book Alain Riffaud provides a step-by-step introduction to the production of the hand-press book in France in the early modern period and offers an intimate insight into contemporary typographic customs. By means of a multitude of well-matched examples the author reveals the finer points of what he likes to call the ‘archaeology of the book’, a method that delves into the materiality of the hand-press book. Moreover, throughout this study Riffaud convincingly demonstrates both the fertility and relevance of material bibliography, and that is no small achievement.

It is clear that the author is a seasoned book historian and an expert on mid-seventeenth-century French theatre. However as a result of this focus on the seventeenth century, the book does not quite deliver all that its title promises, though even this is quite a lot. Riffaud not only systematically unfolds a coherent and comprehensible discussion of the material book, he does so with mastery and humour. With well-chosen examples he pulls the reader along, not failing to point out the implications of every single physical detail of the early modern hand-press book.

The first three chapters form the introduction and are devoted to the materialization of the book, and although one may disagree with the exact order of the parts, all essential elements are discussed. The first chapter examines the structure and technical composition of hand-press books. Riffaud starts from the reader’s perspective, beginning with an explanation of the signatures at the bottom of the printed page—one of those conspicuous features that are strange to modern readers, but at the same time crucial in understanding the nature of hand-press books. This is followed by a brief treatment of gatherings and the collational formula. This part suffers for not being as precise as it could be. Many bibliographers would not agree with Riffaud’s notation of unsigned gatherings (‘[]² ou bien π²’), or how missing and added leaves should be indicated—χ, for instance, is not mentioned at all.

Chapter Four gives an account of the possible types of errors in texts composed by hand, and how they come into being. By means of suitable examples and illustrations, Riffaud familiarizes the reader with contemporary printers’ jargon, for which the author draws on both Anecdotes typographiques by Nicolas Contat (1762) and the oldest French printers’ manual, La science pratique de l’imprimerie (Saint-Omer, 1723), by Martin-Dominique Fertel. We learn, for instance, how different mistakes require compositors to set out for ‘Saint-Jacques’ (i.e. the rectification in the forme of a single word), or to ‘Germanie’ (the rectification of an entire line of text), or to ‘Galilé’ (involving the rearrangement of pages). More importantly he demonstrates how each of these interventions may affect the printed text and what a modern editor may deduce from that. The fifth chapter deals with the distribution of work, whether over different presses and/or workshops and the complications of these practices. In addition the characteristics of printing illustrations in relief (woodblocks) and intaglio (with copperplates) are discussed.

In the next chapters Riffaud really settles into his stride. With clear diagrams he explains the differences between editions, issues, and states and how the ‘archaeologist of the book’ may reconstruct the editing history of a work. The seventh, fairly original, chapter sheds more light on the subtle and often implicit rules typographers had to know. In this process the aesthetics of printing—‘netteté, élégance et clarté d’une mise en page’ (p. 154)—are at the heart of the matter. Chapter Eight demonstrates how printing shops can be identified by the appearance of ornamental initials and other elements when books are lacking imprints on their title-pages. Chapter Nine deals with the phenomenon of pirated editions and mystifications. A too-succinct tenth chapter...