The State Library and Archives of Texas: A History, 1835–1962 (review)

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then there is no better emblem for this engaging book than the photograph that graces the front cover of the dust-jacket, which shows Marguerite Hester, a diminutive librarian in size but not in spirit, circa 1945, “with one foot planted on the very top of a six-foot ladder and the other on the edge of a wooden shelf, using both hands to haul down a bound volume of newspapers weighing nearly a third as much as she herself” (108). This kind of acrobatic spectacle in the stacks is reflected in David Gracy’s history itself, in which competing visions, colorful personalities, state politics, inadequate funding, and woeful storage conditions are balanced in a kind of equilibrium, a complicated tale of one institution’s history, generation unto generation.

The history of the State Library and Archives is, ultimately, a tale of progress and remarkable achievement but, in this carefully documented and thoughtful study, it is not a simple story of the ultimate triumph of truth and beauty. Sheer persistence in the face of adversity and neglect might be more appropriate, and one of the reasons why this is so stems from the nature of the state library itself. (And Texas is not alone in this regard, as Gracy points out.) Virtually all state libraries in this country have struggled with the question of definition and structure. A state library is, obviously, a library, a collection of books, especially printed state and federal statutes but branching out into other bibliographic fields as well. A state library is often, too, the agency responsible for preserving and providing access to the official records of state government as well as to the myriad other historical documents (family papers, military records, business papers, etc.) that it has accumulated or attracted over the years. And last, but not least, the state library is, by design or by default, the advocate for general public library service in any state.

One of the many strengths of Gracy’s book is the way he places these three functions—library, archives, and public champion—in the context of Texas politics and culture. Progress was made (or not), depending on the climate of the times and the incumbents in office, both in the library and in the halls of government. Meticulously researched and gracefully written, this is an essential book for the profession and a splendid model for institutional history (often dry as dust: not the case here). The book is also an instructive volume for anyone interested in Texas history and the cultural institutions (such as libraries and archives) that are largely responsible for preserving the primary materials needed to study the past.

Why a terminal date of 1962? The answer: that was the year of the opening of the current building on Brazos Street in Austin, a suitable home (at last) after generations of wandering in the wilderness. The story of the State Library and Archives since 1962, also rich in history, waits to be told; but for the important early years of the Library’s existence, David Gracy has given us a fine book indeed.