Tag Archives: Renaissance

Session 5: Visit to the University of St Andrews Special Collections

4 December 2015
St Andrews: Martyrs Kirk Research Library (Napier Reading Room), 80 North Street
Gabriel Sewell and Rachel Hart

For the final session of my postgraduate training programme ‘Studying Early Modern France: Archives, Texts, Images’ we headed over to the Special Collections of the University of St Andrews in the Martyrs Kirk Research Library. We browsed some of the original editions we’ve had reference to in earlier sessions (especially Graeme Kemp and Shanti Graheli’s session on the French book world in the Renaissance) as well as some manuscripts dating from the early modern period, with a French provenance.

Gabriel Sewell (Head of Special Collections and Assistant Director of Library Services) and Rachel Hart (Muniments Archivist and Deputy Head of Special Collections) gave brief introductions to some of the major items on display, ranging from fine illuminated manuscripts to learned tomes by significant authors, and kindly answered any question we might have about the sources.

Since it would be rather unwieldy to convey in words the ‘qualia’ of doing archival research—i.e. what it’s like to turn the pages of an age-old document—I decided to make a collage of photos* of some of the prettiest and most interesting sources on display. If you want to consult any of the selected items, please email Special Collections (speccoll@st-andrews.ac.uk) requesting the document(s).

*All photos are taken by me, unless otherwise specified.

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Session 4: Making the Archive Last: Storing and Retrieving your Sources

20 November 2015
St Andrews: Buchanan Building (room 306), Union Street
Dr Sarah Easterby-Smith

Our fourth session on storing and retrieving archival material, led by Sarah Easterby-Smith from the School of History, suitably tied in with the practical advice given by Julia Prest, Guy Rowlands and Roy Dilley during our first session on planning trips to French archives. Besides reviewing how best to organise our archival records when returning home from these trips, we also looked at broader discussions—both past and present—of how to store and organise information.

The early modern archive

Michel Foucault’s 1966 book Les mots et les choses: Une archéologie des sciences humaines served as a springboard for a discussion on the different épistémès or systems of understanding according to which people have organised knowledge throughout history. The prototypical repository for knowledge in the Renaissance (c. 1450-c. 1650) is the Wunderkammer or Cabinet of Curiosities in which information was stored on the basis of symbolic ‘resemblances’ (see image 1 and header image). Items were ordered so as to reflect the divine order of the universe.

38041800063257 Double page illustration from Museum Wormianum..; by Ole Worm (1588 - 1654); published by Lugduni Batavorum : Apud Iohannem Elsevirium; Dutch (Leiden); 1655.

Image 1: Frontispiece of Museum Wormianum … by Ole Worm, published by Lugduni Batavorum: Apud Iohannem Elsevirium, Leiden (1655). © National Art Library, London

According to Foucault, the ‘classical’ period (c. 1650-c. 1800) marked a shift towards language as the primary grid of all things, inasmuch as verbal signs came to represent and hence order thought. The museum vitrine or glass cabinet typically illustrates this shift, as it allowed the viewer to observe things from a distance, detached from the world they originated from, and neatly arranged on the basis of similarity or genus (see image 2). The ‘modern’ age (from the 1800s onwards) finally witnessed a reflexive approach to knowledge. Language was no longer privileged, but widely regarded as a historical construct. In other words, language became an object of study (i.e. epistemology) itself.

Cabinet de Bonnier de la Mosson (1744), Muséum National d'Histoire Naturelle, Paris

Image 2: Panorama of the eighteenth-century Cabinet de Bonnier de la Mosson at the Muséum National d’Histoire Naturelle in Paris.

Sarah pointed out that public archives are products of the 1790s. The French Revolution introduced a way of thinking that regarded historical consciousness as the basis of national unity. Before that time, archives primarily served administrative and personal needs and were thus mainly owned by private individuals, governmental organisations or businesses such as insurance companies. The modern archive served a different function, namely diffusing the historical consciousness of a nation among a wide public.

Roy Dilley from the Department of Social Anthropology suggested during our first session that it often proves useful to retrace the history of archival collections: why did precisely these records end up in this particular archive? As is well known, inventories of European archives usually favoured a white and male dominated history, thus leaving out marginalised groups of people and other controversial matters. Reflecting on how and why archival material has been compiled may prompt us to re-evaluate certain episodes in history.

Archiving in the twenty-first century

The remaining part of our session focussed on modern tools and ways of archiving historical material. Recurring themes concerned the accessibility, ordering and sustainability of our personal archives. We agreed that Zotero and iPhoto are particularly useful in organising and storing sources. Zotero is a free and open-source reference management software that allows you to easily manage bibliographic data as well as related research material, such as PDF files and personal notes (see image 3). It offers the added possibility to share data with others. iPhoto enables you to organise photos by adding descriptions and tags, which makes it easier to search for particular documents.

Interface Zotero

Image 3: Zotero’s user interface.

Sarah revealed that she always keeps hard copies of her most important documents, such as transcriptions of manuscripts. We agreed that digital repositories like Dropbox and Google Drive offer essential, cloud-based backup storage, but we also raised concerns about their long-terms sustainability. Project management applications such as EverNote and Scribenote can greatly assist with organising research, but can become unwieldy because they take up a large amount of space on computers and other devices.

Crucial for managing your sources effectively, is thinking how best to order them. Personal notes can be structured by using Zotero (you can create text fields for each bibliographic reference) or MindManager (a software application for the creation of mind maps). Depending on the focus and scope of your research, you might want to use an alphabetical (e.g. using a person’s surname) or chronological order (e.g. using the chronology of particular historical events or the time period during which you’ve worked on a research project). If you plan to reuse the collected material, it might be helpful to refer to archives and collections instead. By all means, don’t have too many ordering systems at the same time!

A question that has entertained people for centuries is how best to preserve knowledge. We found that most twenty-first century technologies are in fact rather poorly equipped to store information. This seems counter-intuitive at first sight. New areas of study, notably the digital humanities, put much effort into the digital preservation of a wide variety of sources, both analogue and digital. At the same time, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep track of the growing number of languages used to programme digital archives. And what to think of such widespread communication tools as e-mail and social media? When taking into account their ephemeral nature (most people will store only their most important messages), it may seem that the physical, strong paper of the early modern period is more capable of standing the test of time.

Reading tips:

Derrida, Jacques. Mal d’archive: Une impression freudienne (Paris: Éditions Galilée, 1995).

Foucault, Michel, Les mots et les choses: Une archéologie des sciences humaines (Paris: Éditions Gallimard, 1966).

Steedman, Carolyn. Dust: The Archive and Cultural History (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001).

Written by Bram van Leuveren

Session 2: The French Book World in the Renaissance

23 October 2015
St Andrews: Buchanan Building (room 306), Union Street
Dr Shanti Graheli and Dr Graeme Kemp (Universal Short Title Catalogue)

The goal of our second session was to introduce the history, historiography and core issues in the study of the early modern book world in France. Shanti Graheli and Graeme Kemp from the School of History provided a detailed understanding of the development of French printing in the latter half of the fifteenth century through to the spreading of the Reformation and Counter-Reformation in the sixteenth century. Special attention was given to the bibliographic ‘instruments’ needed to study the book—and, hence, print—culture of early modern France.

Shanti explained that print culture in France only emerged from 1470 onwards. In that year, the kingdom witnessed the publication of its first printed book—in Latin and written by an Italian humanist (Epistolae, Gasparino Barzizza; see image 1). Until then, the so-called pecia system, which allowed users to rent and copy separate book sections or ‘peciae’, was the preferred practice of knowledge dissemination. The procedure was widely used at the University of Paris. Such an established, well-functioning system made sure that tradition was hard to leave behind.

Epistolae (Gasparino Barzizza, 1470)

Image 1: Epistolae printed by Michael Friburger, Ulrich Gering and Martin Krantz, Paris, 1470 (BnF, Réserve des livres précieux, cote Rés. Z. 1986).

The first printed books, in France as well as throughout Europe, were imitations of manuscripts. Ornaments, handwriting styles, even the size of individual letters resembled those of the manuscript book (cf. image 1). The current figure for the French printed output between 1450 and 1600 is of 81,665 printed books (as opposed to 76,622 in the Italian states and 102,920 in the Holy Roman Empire). But print culture in these different domains was very different from case to case. The Germanic system saw the emergence of many centres, producing between 6,000 and 8,000 editions in the first 150 years of printing. In the Italian States Venice was, by far, the most important centre with over 26,000 printed books, but it was followed by other significant cities such as Rome and Florence. France, on the other hand, concentrated its output in Paris with over 47,000 editions, followed by Lyon (22,000). The other printing centres produced a negligible output. Despite this fact, the book trade networks could reach even the most remote locations of the kingdom thanks to a highly developed system. The bookseller, more than the printer or the publisher, was the key figure to the circulation of books in early modern France.

The output of printed books in France during the (second half of the) fifteenth, sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was predominantly religious and political in nature, especially in the late sixteenth century when the French Wars of Religion reinforced differences between Catholics and Huguenots. Other popular book releases included scholarly and scientific treatises (arithmetics, medicine) as well as poetry and literary texts (chansons, novellas). Besides religion and politics, the printing industry of the seventeenth century developed a keen interest in drama texts and satirical pamphlets.

Session 2 04 (lower resolution)

Image 2: Graeme Kemp (l) and Shanti Graheli.

Graeme indicated that the French civil wars in the latter half of the sixteenth century affected the production of books to a large extent, almost bringing it to the verge of collapse. The production of political, polemical pamphlets, on the other hand, thrived, and this can be seen when we visualize the quantitative production of editions in relation to the deaths of royals during that period. The French Wars of Religion also brought on a significant need to alter the rules for the printing world. It became compulsory for the printer/publisher to acquire royal permission (privilège du Roi), as a means for the king to control the market. Nevertheless, pirate editions of copyrighted work still circulated widely. Only with Henri IV’s conversion to Catholicism in 1593 did the Parisian book industry start to recover.

Graeme went on to demonstrate the various ways in which you can search for French sources in multiples archives and libraries online. The St Andrews-based Universal Short Title Catalogue (USTC) is a collective database of all books printed in early modern Europe until the late sixteenth century: http://ustc.ac.uk/index.php. The catalogues of the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BNF) cover a vast amount of French sources: http://www.bnf.fr/fr/collections_et_ser-vices/catalogues.html. The state of cataloguing is not yet complete, in particular for certain type of ephemeral items. See also Gallica, the BNF’s digital library, which provides high resolution photos of both books and bindings: http://gallica.bnf.fr/. Both of these catalogues have recently been renewed into a user-friendly look and are now very advanced research tools.

The Catalogue collectif de France (CCFr), a national Meta-OPAC which is joined by libraries on a voluntary basis, is the best resource to use in order to get a general overview of collections in the provinces: http://ccfr.bnf.fr/portailccfr/jsp/portal/index.jsp?success=/jsp/portal/index.-jsp&profile=anonymous. However, it is always recommended double-checking every search both in the CCFr and the individual library catalogues. Finally, Sudoc allows you to search for university collections: http://www.sudoc.abes.fr/. Graeme noted that through the years the archives municipales have kept control over their own collections, in contrast to the British situation where archives are mostly centralised (in or around London) and state-regulated. This probably has to do with the traditionally strong identity of the French provinces.

Session 2 05 (lower resolution)

Image 3.

The second part of our workshop session was devoted to a partly theoretical, partly hands-on demonstration of how to apply bibliographic ‘instruments’ in the study of early modern French books. To begin with, we did a collective brainstorming in order to gather our general perception of what features constitute ‘a book’. This allowed the participants to develop a stronger sensitivity between edition-related concepts (that is, features of a whole print-run, such as the title page, the number of pages, etc.) or copy-related, linked to the specific history of one copy (for instance any marks of ownership, the size of the individual book, the book binding, and so on).

Shanti explained that a comprehensive understanding of edition-related and copy-related information helps the early modern scholar to determine and understand the broader conditions in which books were printed, sold and used. The format of a book, for example, is often indicative of the type of audience who read it as well as the kind of environment in which it circulated. A folio was naturally expensive, as it contained more paper, and often wider margins. Smaller formats were more portable and usually much cheaper (although we must allow for exceptions, as in the case of the famous enchiridia printed by Aldus Manutius in Venice). The in-quarto was the usual format adopted by academic publications, and the octavo is particularly suited to literature and poetry.

The examination of the material aspects of the early modern book is a key aspect to our understanding of how a book was used and perceived, what audience if was intended for, what section of the market was presumably able and willing to purchase it. Such aspects, however, need to be combined with the context of the book production, and more generally a wider understanding of French history in the Renaissance in order to yield fruitful research outputs.

During our next session on November 6, Elsje van Kessel (School of Art History) will talk about the fascinating task of working with a variety of source materials, both written and visual. It takes Parisian art exhibitions as an example of the challenges that come with the reconstruction and analysis of fleeting historical events.

Written by Bram van Leuveren