Used Books: Marking Readers in Renaissance England (review)

The increased interest in the history of reading has led to greater scrutiny of marginalia and readers’ marks than ever before. Marginalia by famous people have always been of interest, but scholars have now begun to show how much can be learned from all readers’ notes. William H. Sherman’s excellent book is a valuable addition to this growing body of literature, not only presenting exemplary analyses of specific instances but also offering more general reflections based on his impressively extensive examination of English Renaissance books with contemporary markings—reflections that make this book (especially its first and last chapters) a helpful starting point for anyone wishing to study reader-use in any period. One of the delights of the book, by the way, is the first detailed history of the “manicule” (the pointing hand).

As one would expect, Sherman is critical of the preference for clean copies that has dominated the thinking of collectors and antiquarian dealers for so long, and he properly condemns their frequent erasure of readers’ marks. Without disagreeing in the slightest, I must add a footnote on the value that unused copies also have. Although Sherman does note, in speaking of the ethics of restoration, that evidence of manufacturing practices (as well as of use) can be lost through restorers’ efforts, he perhaps does not give sufficient recognition to the social history that is conveyed by pristine copies. A question raised at the end, unworthy of a writer with the subtlety he shows elsewhere, poses a false opposition: “Are books from the past,” he asks, “precious relics, in which marginalia are dirt or desecration, or are they inanimate objects (like pots or arrowheads) that are only brought to life by traces of the human hands and minds that used them?” One can recognize that marginalia, far from being “dirt,” are valuable without believing that objects are brought to life “only” by the traces (more various than simply annotation) of persons who “used” them.

The daily lives of printing-shop workers, at least the routines of their working hours, are revealed (through bibliographical analysis) in copies that show no signs of use. Furthermore, copies that are as untouched as possible help us to see what contemporary book buyers encountered; and they give us the best evidence for reconstructing some of the bookmaking practices and materials involved. (For example, since binding entails trimming the leaves, unbound copies offer better evidence for determining the dimensions of the original sheets.) It is understandable that Sherman finds marked-up copies more interesting than clean ones; but copies in original condition have their scholarly uses also. I realize, however, that it was not necessary for him to pursue this point, and we should be grateful for what he does accomplish so well. His book is one more reminder that artifacts have many stories to tell of the times through which they have existed, and their testimony is always worth attending to.