reviews


 

Book Reviews 197 

saviors of Western Civilization were by 
and large high-spirited artisans whose 
world and work focused on colors, tex­
tures, and production processes rather 
than words, texts, and the higher criti­
cism. But because the object of their cult 
was The Book, these hard-drinking, col­
orful characters were numbered among 
the cultural elect. They made the best for 
the best. The fact that only few of them 
had more than a high school education 
mattered little. In a democratic society, 
everyman is always a potential saint. 

Whether or not you are persuaded by 
Benton’s arguments, you have to admire 
the wealth of information she has as­
sembled on the business and production 
practices of her core group. In fact, I sus­
pect that the enduring value of the book 
lies in the pages and pages of documen­
tation it presents to provide a detailed 
view of the world of fine printing in the 
1920s. An appendix lists some 300 titles 
that constituted her sample group. Beauty 
and the Book thus gives the first detailed 
and systematic look at the business of fine 
printing; and for that alone, it earns a spot 
on your shelf. 

Because the book tilts decidedly to­
ward production rather than consump­
tion, it provides at best a partial view of 
the phenomenon it wants to explain. In 
focusing exclusively on relations between 
American printers/publishers and their 
clients, Beauty and the Book ignores the 
other streams that fed the market for 
finely made books. By the 1920s, Britain, 
France, and Germany had vital and im­
portant traditions of fine printing and 
artists’ books, and America was a grow­
ing market for them. If the issue is “cul­
tural distinction in America,” what bet­
ter source than Europe to look for tokens 
and emblems of “having arrived.” 
Benton’s book leaves plenty of room for 
further work on collectors and collections 
in the early twentieth century. 

That being said, Beauty and the Book is 
a smart monograph that helps bridge the 
gap between the self-conscious attempts 
of high modernists to wed text and arti­
fact, marvelously captured in Jerome 

McGann’s Black Riders (Princeton 1993) 
and Jan Radway’s study of the emergence 
of American middlebrow culture, A Feel­
ing for Books (North Carolina 1997, re­
viewed in C&RL vol. 59, no. 3). Benton is 
a scholar who appreciates the fact that not 
all books are made or bought to be read; 
books are artifacts as well as texts.— 
Michael Ryan, University of Pennsylvania. 

Borgman, Christine L. From Gutenberg to 
the Global Information Infrastructure: Ac­
cess to Information in the Networked 
World. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Pr., 
2000. 324p. $42, alk. paper (ISBN 
0-262-02473-x). LC 99-39906. 

Few observers would disagree that the 
dissemination of information, and the role 
of libraries in it, are at a major crossroads, 
with few road signs pointing to the next 
destination. Print has reigned supreme for 
centuries, and before that, similar prin­
ciples prevailed. In the 1950s and thereaf­
ter, microforms came briefly to steal part 
of the show, although more as a preserva­
tion and space-saving expedient than as a 
substitute for print. Despite exuberant pre­
dictions, microforms never played their 
predicted role; they were too inconvenient 
to use, were poorly indexed in public cata­
logs and on the reel, and never contrib­
uted much to saving shelf space because 
libraries seldom discarded the materials 
they ‘replaced.’ In these instances, what­
ever the changes, they were relatively 
modest and never threatened the status of 
libraries as indispensable intermediaries 
between information and its seekers. 

This is no longer the case. Cyberspace 
is, or at least is seen to be, as much nem­
esis of traditional libraries as benefactor. 
The reasons for this are all too obvious: 
convenience and efficiency are the two 
most often advanced. Christine Borgman’s 
study employs a wide canvass in present­
ing a status questionis. On the whole, 
Borgman steers a middle course between 
the Scylla of nostalgia and the Charybdis 
of futurism. She is especially careful to treat 
issues on a quid pro quo basis, scrupu­
lously and systematically discussing both 
advantages and disadvantages. 



 

 

198 College & Research Libraries 

Borgman’s work is a tour d’horizon, and 
the scope is international. As a result, few 
topics can receive extended treatment, but 
a few discussions, though brief, seemed 
to be of special interest. These include her 
discussion of paper/electronics trade­
offs; fee versus free; the perennial issue 
of what to preserve in the original (that 
is, when are books artifacts and when 
merely vehicles?); and “the politics of ac­
cess.” Her last two chapters discuss pros­
pects for a “global digital library,” a pros­
pect that will incite fear in some and an­
ticipation in others. Whatever the view­
point, Borgman makes it clear that a 
wealth of initiatives is bringing the day 
closer. Another interesting thread is her 
attention to the value of digitization in 
preservation. Heretofore a Sisyphean la­
bor, preservation promises to benefit 
greatly from any number of applica­
tions—and in many cases, just in time. 

Despite her wide-ranging writ, there 
are two points that Borgman glosses over. 
She treats off-site storage only in passing, 
even though it could ultimately have as 
great an effect on library collections and 
access as the electronic world. It might 
easily serve as a greater incentive to digi­
tization than other factors, for instance, 
by comparing the costs of the latter with 
those of new construction, document de­
livery, and the like. Nor has Borgman 
anything to say about the potential fiscal 
perils of replacing print with cyberspace. 
Whenever this is discussed, it is hard not 
to conjure up the parable of the spider and 
the fly. Not even the most ingenuous li­
brarian can have failed to notice that in­
formation is the hottest commodity in the 
marketplace and it is being purveyed 
without the slightest vestige of altruism. 
We see very visible and unembarrassed 
moves toward monopolization, not only 
at the corporate level, but, more frighten­
ingly, also at the format level. Who among 
us cannot foresee at least the possibility 
of being victimized by the kinds of mo­
nopolism that is impossible with print? 

As Borgman points out, the distin­
guishing feature of libraries is that they 
house information, organize it consis-

March 2001 

tently and continuously, and are con­
stantly intent on providing effective ac­
cess not only to those who come with a 
name, a subject, or an idea, but also to 
those who come to do nothing more than 
gather data on subjects they know little 
about. The Internet will not often modify 
the behavior of this last group, but a com­
petent and enthusiastic librarian or two 
may have more than a fighting chance to 
do just that. It is considerably easier to 
walk away from a session on the Internet 
piqued, bemused, and befuddled, yet 
with the notion that the data have been 
domesticated—case closed. 

One question is whether From 
Gutenberg will find a readership outside 
the profession. Even though Borgman 
addresses users, or at least their concerns, 
a certain abstractness about her discourse 
leaves a disembodied feeling. Discussions 
are usually cast at a rarefied level, and her 
arguments are seldom illumined by hy­
pothetical case situations that would of­
fer more immediacy. At no point does she 
wax passionate and thus her own posi­
tion remains unclear. This is not neces­
sarily a bad thing, but in light of the failed 
predictions of the past, it might have been 
well to stake out a position, if only in a 
preface (there is none). For some, the great 
unknown is the ability—and the utility— 
of the mass of users to circumvent librar­
ies and librarians on the cruise through 
the Internet. Some library users have al­
ways managed to do this, whatever the 
medium. The question, one that must re­
main hypothetical, is whether they were 
better off for it. Nowadays, the tempta­
tions to give the nearest library a pass are 
almost overwhelming. The tee-shirts that 
say “So Many Books, So Little Time” must 
be updated to “So Much Cyberspace, So 
Little Time.” 

Borgman does a good job of embrac­
ing the future without forsaking the past. 
Along the way she sketches any number 
of issues that readers will want to know 
more about, which is always the sign of a 
stimulating work. In aid of this, she pro­
vides a substantial, up-to-date bibliogra­
phy. She does not try to offer a range of 



 

Book Reviews 199 

solutions, realizing that the evidence is 
not up to that; but she does a fine job of 
bringing most of the issues together into 
a thought-provoking whole. In today’s 
kaleidoscopic world of information tech­
nology, no work can be timeless, but From 
Gutenberg promises to have a more ex­
tended shelf life than most.—David 
Henige, University of Wisconsin at Madison. 

Conaway, James. America’s Library: The 
Story of the Library of Congress, 1800– 
2000. Foreword by James H. Billington; 
Introduction by Edmund Morris. New 
Haven, Conn.: Yale Univ. Pr., in asso­
ciation with the Library of Congress, 
2000. 226p. $45, alk. paper (ISBN 
0-300-08308-4). LC 99-058751. 

James Conaway’s history of the Library 
of Congress focuses on the thirteen Li­
brarians of Congress who have served 
our national library for the past two hun­
dred years. The accomplishments of each 
are examined in the context of contem­
porary historical events. The first Librar­
ian of Congress, John James Beckley 
(1801–1807), appointed by Thomas 
Jefferson, served concurrently as clerk of 
the House of Representatives. His dual 
career ended with his death on April 8, 
1807, when he was succeeded by Patrick 
Magruder (1807–1815), the second Librar­
ian of Congress, also appointed by 
Jefferson. During the presidency of James 
Madison Magruder continued the dual 
role of clerk and librarian. In the course 
of an attack on Washington by the British 
during the War of 1812, the Library of 
Congress was totally lost to fire. The li­
brary survived due to the purchase of 
Jefferson’s private collection of 6,487 vol­
umes for the price of $23,950 in the win­
ter of 1814. 

Magruder ’s successor, George 
Watterson (1815–1829), appointed third 
Librarian of Congress by President Madi­
son, was the first librarian charged with 
serving in the position without taking on 
the additional duty of House clerk. A po­
litical activist, Watterson matched wits 
with General Andrew Jackson and lost 
when Jackson won the presidency. Presi­

dent Jackson appointed the fourth Librar­
ian of Congress, John Silva Meehan (1829– 
1861), a former publisher with a more 
pleasing personality than his predecessor, 
who served under nine presidents, from 
Jackson to Buchanan. The apex of his ten­
ure was the designation of the Library of 
Congress, along with the Smithsonian 
Institution, as the official depositories for 
copyrighted works in 1846. The nadir 
came five years later, in 1851, when fire 
destroyed 35,000 volumes, including 
two-thirds of the original Jefferson collec­
tion purchased in 1814. 

Appointed the fifth Librarian of Con­
gress by President Abraham Lincoln, John 
G. Stephenson (1861–1864) spent most of 
his tenure as a colonel in the Union army. 
He is remembered best for bringing in as 
his principal assistant, Ainsworth Rand 
Spofford (1864–1897). When Stephenson 
resigned from his position at the end of 
December 1864, Lincoln lost no time in 
appointing Spofford (1864–1897) as the 
sixth Librarian of Congress on New 
Year’s Eve that same year. Serving under 
nine presidencies, from Lincoln through 
the second presidency of Cleveland, 
Spofford saw the Library of Congress 
through its metamorphosis from legisla­
tive resource to national cultural institu­
tion. Under legislation signed by Presi­
dent Ulysses S. Grant in 1870, the Library 
of Congress became the sole depository 
for copyrighted works, a role previously 
shared with the Smithsonian. The mag­
nificent Library of Congress edifice that 
today graces the Washington landscape 
was Spofford’s brainchild. 

President William McKinley appointed 
John Russell Young (1897–1899) the sev­
enth Librarian of Congress. Young is re­
membered for presiding over the open­
ing of the then new Library of Congress 
and for increasing its international hold­
ings. He died in office in January 1899. 
Young’s successor, also appointed by 
McKinley, was Herbert Putnam (1899– 
1939), who served under eight presidents, 
from McKinley to Franklin Delano 
Roosevelt. Putnam’s forty-year tenure 
surpassed that of any other Librarian of