A Critical Edition of the Private Diaries of Robert Proctor: The Life of a Librarian at the British Museum ed. by J. H. Bowman (review)

On 1 July 1903 Robert Proctor described his now famous diary as 'this chronicle of very small beer'. This is an unfairly critical self-assessment, given the bibliographical jewels held within. Proctor seems to be referring to the extraordinary level of detail he goes into about some apparently trivial areas of his life — the reader reaches the end of the 345 pages of text in this critical edition by John Bowman knowing a great deal about train times, early twentieth-century weather and the details of Mother's health, but surprisingly little about Proctor himself, much at odds with the modern obsession with constant self-reflection. Reading the book can be an exhausting experience, as Proctor wrote every single day (bar a period of two weeks just before the 'small beer' description cited above) and lived with relentless energy. He was able to work a full day at the British Museum, follow this up with a few hours' work in his garden in Oxshott and reading late into the night, then repeat it all again the next day. The modern reader is left with a deep respect for Proctor and his remarkable achievements at such a young age.

Proctor's diary has been cited by biographers before, notably Scholderer and Johnson, but this is the first time the full text has been edited. The amount of work Bowman has undertaken must not be underestimated; the extensive footnotes he appends to nearly every daily entry are essential for comprehension of Proctor's heavily abbreviated style of writing. Bowman has consulted an array of contemporary source material to identify nearly every person mentioned in the diary, from the major bibliographers with whom Proctor worked and socialised to the servants who passed through the Oxshott household in such large numbers. As a record for the social historian the diary gives a wealth of information about the difficulties in recruiting and maintaining a household staff, as well as the nature of village life. We learn, for example, that it was necessary for Proctor to purchase and erect 200 yards of wire netting to stop children playing in the wilderness area of the Oxshott garden over the summer. To political historians, however, Proctor is something of an enigma. His radical political leanings led him to rejoice at the deaths of Queen Victoria and other European royals, and to support the Boers against the British, but apart from these major events we learn surprisingly little about the political activity of the early twentieth century.

The book is of greatest value, of course, to bibliographers and library historians. It is only with hindsight that we appreciate just how eminent were the circles within which Proctor moved. He spoke or wrote daily to Pollard, Cockerell, Jenkinson and Quaritch amongst many others. A visit to stay with the family of William Morris (whom he idolized) in Kelmscott is described in the same way as any other weekend, with an account of the weather and a few bibliographical activities. Contact with the eminent mattered little to Proctor; what he was moved by, unsurprisingly, were books. We read on 12 July 1901 that he has received a batch of 41 books from Sotheby's to look over, 'the most exciting lot I have ever had to handle; they kept Pollard & me busy till past 3'.

The great impression of Proctor is of a modest man, immensely hard working and industrious. His reorganization of the Museum's incunabula was undertaken virtually singlehandedly, including the physical relocation of the books into the newly shelved Arch Room. The publication of his The Printing of Greek in the Fifteenth Century (Oxford, 1900) raises no more comment than 'My Greek book is out'. He also exemplifies the great speed with which business could be transacted...