=The Literary Side of Library Rebinding=
After satisfactory materials and methods of binding for a library have
been discovered and adopted, there still remain many questions which
can be well answered only by one having a wide knowledge of books. Nor
is a general knowledge of books alone enough to qualify one to answer
wisely these questions. Close acquaintance with the library's policy in
regard to book-saving and book-buying and of its attitude toward the
demand for popular and ephemeral fiction; knowledge of its reference
work; of the amount of handling its books receive by the public, and
of its financial condition and policy--all this and much besides the
person in charge of binding should have before she can make wise
decisions. And particularly she needs knowledge of paper, editions,
prices and similar matters.
Take fiction for example. More than half of the binding bills of most
free public libraries are probably chargeable to novels. One of these
comes to the hands of the person in charge of binding in such condition
that at the first glance it seems desirable to rebind it. Let us
suppose that it is still in publisher's cloth; is quite soiled outside,
but still fairly clean within; that the cover has parted from the book
in front; that several leaves are loose and two of them frayed at the
edges; that at the back the outside sheets of several signatures are
nearly worn through or broken; and that the label is off. Should it
be rebound; or what should be done with it? Before deciding its fate,
questions like the following must be answered.
If this is not the only copy of this book now in the library, are the
other copies in good condition?
If they are, can the library spare this copy because the demand for
this particular title is past? And is it not better economy to throw
it away or sell it--as it will probably never be wanted again--than to
spend money in binding it?
That is to say, if it is bound, will it not stand idle on the shelf?
If it continues to be somewhat popular, and this copy would get some
use if it were replaced, still, is it a book the use of which it is the
library's policy to encourage?
If not, has it not served its purpose and should it not be put away,
rather than entail on the library another expense item in cost of
binding?
If it is the only copy in the library, is it a book the library wishes
to retain or has it been in effect on trial, and has proved not to be
worth keeping?
If so, would not the binding of it be a use of money far less
justifiable than its original purchase?
Or is it perhaps of interest now simply as a part of the history of
fiction and so still worth keeping?
But, if kept for this purpose, does it need binding at all? Will not
a little mending make it hold together sufficiently well? Perhaps the
best plan would be to reclassify it for the literature section, wrap it
in paper, mark the wrapper, and put on the shelf.
If it is a good book, in constant demand, the question is still not a
simple one. Is it on poor paper, so poor that in our style of rebinding
it will last but a short time? If so, would not a new copy be a better
investment than the rebinding of this one?
If the paper is good enough for rebinding, will it stand mending and
further wear without making its ultimate binding very difficult?
If there are other editions of this book obtainable, does this sample
indicate that this particular edition is the best one to buy hereafter?
These and many other questions confront the librarian every time a
book, of any kind, comes up for binding. Because they are not wisely
answered the shelves of every library show examples of the unwise
expenditure of money. To take a specific example in this same field
of fiction. The library has several sets of Cooper. In each of them
is the Chainbearer. Consider any one of the library's copies of this
book: No one reads it. But mere shifting on the shelf gradually wears
it out. It goes through the bindery, and, being by Cooper, and a novel,
it is bound, in the same style as the Spy which happens to go with it,
in half leather. The Spy is used; the leather on it keeps soft and
pliable and wears a year or two, until the book is too dirty to keep
it longer. But the Chainbearer stands untouched and its leather hardens
and breaks. It must be bound again within three or four years, even
though it has not been lent once in that period. If it had received
a plain cloth binding, that binding would have cost less and lasted
indefinitely. If it had been thrown away the library would have been
the gainer.
The problem is not less complex when books in classes other than
fiction are up for consideration. Many of them are rarely used; why
rebind them at all, no matter how broken? To tie a string about them
or to wrap in paper and mark them would often be wiser economy. Often
they are single volumes from long sets, an edition, for example, of
some history bound about 1800. The binding is calf. In rebinding, to
match the set is very unwise, for all calf now on the market will rot
in a few years. It must be bound, let us suppose, as it is occasionally
called for; yet it will not, like a popular novel, wear out or become
unbearably dirty in a half century.
Shall it be put in morocco? This would be a mistake, for it is doubtful
if present-day morocco will last 50 years, probably not half that time.
The only alternative is cloth, and that with no leather title label on
the back. One of the best things is, for a large book, heavy duck back,
light gray or light green, lettered in printers' ink, with sides of any
good book cloth. This spoils the looks of the set. Moreover, the cloth
catches dust and dirt, and grows soft and flabby. But it is today one
of the few safe bindings. If the book is small, full art canvas or
imperial morocco cloth is better.
So, as I have said, paper, leather, cloth, sewing, joints, gold,
and many other things the librarian must know; and to these must
add knowledge of literary values, popularity of books and authors,
editions, prices and a score of other things before he can be sure, if
he ever can be sure, that he is really binding economically, in the
long run.