This is the time of year when I often feel assaulted by information overload: there are new books and articles being published in both of my fields of research, I’m behind on my New Yorker, novels are piling up by my bedside, and then don’t forget all those blogs and websites to check in with! Sitting down and constructing my syllabus exacerbates all this. There are too many new works to read that I might want to include, and even worse, I can’t always remember where I read that fascinating study that absolutely needs to be included. Didn’t I read something in that gigantic book that will help us understand the mise-en-page of printed Bibles? But where? And has it been eclipsed by something more recent that I haven’t gotten to yet? Information overload. It often comes up as the bane of the electronice age, something that the email…
Author: Sarah Werner
owning your words
In a Chronicle of Higher Education column, Jennifer Sinor writes about having one of her course syllabi used by a colleague at a different institution, posing the question “Is it plagiarism when a colleague borrows your syllabus and then uses it in its entirety for his own course?” It’s an interesting question. When do you own your words and when are they up for grabs by everyone else? Sinor’s experience suggests to her that although she feels she owns her syllabus, and its appropriation by someone else was plagiarism, the others she talks to are less certain. Her department chair’s response, interestingly, is that she doesn’t own her syllabus: the university does. As Sinor’s column goes on to discuss, the question of what aspects of a professor’s output are property of their employer and what are their own intellectual property are not entirely straightforward these days. But I’d like to…
Cranach Press Hamlet
On my last post about woodcuts, I promised some beautiful twentieth-century ones, so here you are: This is the opening to a German book arts press edition of Hamlet, printed in 1928 by Count Harry Kessler’s Cranach Press in Weimar. The book consists of Gerhart Hauptman’s translation of the second quarto of Shakespeare’s play, surrounded by the relevant source texts of Saxo Grammaticus and Francois de Belleforest. Throughout the book are beautiful woodcuts done specifically for this edition by Edward Gordon Craig. (A second version of this book, with the play in English, was printed in 1930.) The Cranach Press Hamlet does a remarkable job of using the woodcuts not simply to illustrate but to interact with the text and to perform its meanings through shaping the look of page. Notice how the nervous guards huddle against the majuscule “W” in the opening scene, while the form of the…
more on medieval books
Since in his most recent post, Got Medieval has included my brief thoughts on why books should be one of words when defining “The Middle Ages in Seven Words (or less)“, I thought I would flesh out my earlier post a bit. For me, there are two equally important parts in the question of whether books are medieval: what are books and what is medieval? For most people, I’d hazard, “book” means something in print, made from moveable type or from the computer software equivalent thereof. It’s something that is printed and exists in multiple printed copies. (I’d actually go further, and say that for most people, “book” means something that is made and sold by a publishing company, rather than a vanity press. If someone says, “I wrote a book!”, I think we assume that it will be bought and sold, not that it’s languishing in our bottom shelves…
more woodcuts
Last time I posted a picture of the big, full-page woodcut facing the first page of Genesis from the 1527 Latin Bible. There is another full-page woodcut in the Bible, facing the first page of the New Testament. But there are also lots of small woodcuts that appear at the heads of books and initial woodcuts that appear (sometimes) at the start of chapters. Here is an example of both of those. The one on top–God with kneeling angels on either side–appears at the top of the page, on the left-hand column of text, just before the summary of the chapter. Below it is a smaller, square woodcut illustrating another moment of God’s creation of the world. (According to Baudrier’s Bibliographie Lyonnaise, these woodcuts were not designed by the master who did the full-page one, but by G. Leroy.) I mentioned last time that woodcuts were investments that were…