Happy almost birthday, Shakespeare! Or should I say Bard-thday? Recently, in honour of the 400th anniversary of William Shakespeare’s death (conveniently for celebratory purposes, he was born on April 23 1564 and died on the same day in 1616), I was given the incredible opportunity to have a private audience to go through the University of Glasgow’s copy of the First Folio, page by page. I’ve written a short article for the University Library’s blog, which you can find here, but I wanted to share some other images on my own blog that I didn’t have room for on the official post!
The University of Glasgow’s First Folio (more properly known as Mr. William Shakespeare’s Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies) is able to tell so many more stories than those of the plays contained in its pages- of the history of the antiquarian book trade, of the printing practices of the Renaissance, of book ownership and value. Rest assured, you’ll probably be seeing posts from me in the future about all of these things, as well as the typographical ornaments used in the book, which I found fascinating. The University’s Folio is particularly interesting due to the notations by past owners, including one who had apparently seen at least one of the original Chamberlain’s Men “By eyewittnesse”. But my favourite bit of the later additions is the morbid little poem on the reverse of one of the flyleaves: “Pitty it is the fam’d Shakespeare/ Shall ever want his chin or haire.”
A superb introduction to the first folio in the care of the University of Glasgow Special Collections by my Wife Alexandra Newman. Within this short piece is a link to a University of Glasgow Library blog post written by the same author which goes into further depth to concisely explain what the first folio is and the interesting features of this particular book.
Some books in old bindings may not be entirely what they seem… in addition to housing the text of the main book, they may also harbor fragments of much older manuscripts! Known as “manuscript waste,” these fragments range from single teeny tiny strips to reinforce the binding’s inner structure to entire pages that could be recycled into covers. The strength and durability of vellum means that sometimes when such waste is found, its work of origin can be determined.
From around the 15th to the 17th century, attitudes towards religious practice fluctuated throughout Europe. A particularly violent shift occurred in England under the reign of Henry VIII, in which monasteries (and their books) were all but destroyed. This, as well as numerous less noticeable changes of religious opinion, meant that many religious manuscripts (particularly liturgical works like songbooks) were suddenly outdated; And due to the fact that the majority of medieval manuscripts were written on vellum, an expensive and sturdy material, people were loath to simply throw them away. Instead, they recycled the vellum in creative ways, reinforcing not only book bindings but clothesas well!
(The practice of reinforcing bindings with waste didn’t stop in the 17th century- examples of books using printed paper waste can be found in bindings done all the way up to the 20th century!)
(Books from Senate House Library, the University of Glasgow Library, and my personal collection)
Manuscript waste is such an interestiing topic in book history.
