Notes on Bookbinding for Libraries

by John Cotton Dana

In most libraries of moderate size and in all large ones, there should be a supervisor of binding and repairs; a person thoroughly familiar with the whole routine of library work, familiar also with literature, keeping close watch of the rise and fall in popularity of new books. Such a person could say, for example, that the library’s third copy of the Valley of Decision and the fourth copy of the Crisis, if ready for repairing or rebinding, could with good economy be placed on a reserve shelf, not accessible to the public, there to be held until the delivery desk assistants find a call for them. That is, she would know that with two or three copies in good condition of these books in circulation there would almost always be one in the library. When the library’s stock of such books as those named becomes reduced to one sound copy she can then tell, from the demand for it, if it is wise to bind one copy, or all; or if it is wise to do more than mend.

This omniscient person who has charge of binding and repairs, reports to the head of the library that such and such books are past repairs; that they will cost 35 to 50 cents apiece to be properly rebound, and asks, “Will the library ever want them again?” If not, then she will advise that they be given away and their cards removed from the catalog. Or, if they must be kept for historical or religious or superstitious or other reasons she will advise that they be neatly tied up in paper, labeled, and put back on the shelf.

Knowledge of the art of mending implies not only knowledge of the process of making a book by machinery and by hand; but also knowledge of the different kinds of paper, how they wear, if they break easily, if they will soon grow brittle, and the effect on them of attempts to hold them with paste or glue.

Along with this knowledge should also go knowledge of the cost of each individual book, and such knowledge of their use as will enable the repairer to decide at once whether 10, 20, or 30 cents spent in repairs will or will not pay.

As long as there are so few assistants who are at all familiar with paper, type, binding, literary quality, popularity, cost, etc., it is well to discourage almost all book repairs.

As soon as we admit, as we must, that a good book, costing from one to two dollars, must be mended carefully if at all, we have opened the door for a large expense. An assistant can easily spend an hour or two on a book, repairing its cover, mending a few leaves and putting it in order. When she gets through she will have put from 30 to 50 cents’ worth of time into it, has probably permanently injured it, and in a few months or years it will be in worse condition than if she had never touched it at all. Moreover, the same amount of money put out in cash instead of time would in many cases have rebound it.

In a measure the remarks just made apply even to popular books, much used by children or adults. It is easy to spend more money in mending them than good economy can justify. Mend sparingly; rebind early.

The reason for this warning against mending lies in the anatomy of the book and the injury it receives from handling after it begins to break up, and especially after its first breaks have been mended by a prentice hand.

The weakest point in a book is the joint. In publishers’ binding of today this joint is made by a piece of super, which is glued to the back of the book and then to the inside of the cover, plus the end paper which is pasted over it and also onto the cover. This super is weak. If it is put on with a poor glue that glue soon grows hard and the joint is further weakened thereby. It breaks or tears easily. Also, it parts easily from the back to which it is glued and from the cover. No strings or tapes pass from the book to cover. When the joint once comes loose from either back or cover, or breaks, it cannot well be either attached or mended again. It is sometimes possible to take a broken book out of its case entirely, remove the old and attach new super, add new end sheets, put it again into the case and get considerable use from it. But any other kind of mending of the joint is almost futile and even this is injurious. And the better such mending seems at first to succeed, the greater the harm it is really doing to the whole book. For the mending usually consists in pasting a strip of strong paper or cloth along the joint. This simply conveys the strain from the joint proper, where it belongs, to the first leaf of the first signature. This is only paper, usually poor at that. It soon breaks and lets its other half loose. Very commonly other injuries are worked at the same time. The book gets loose again, if it was ever really tightened. The super with hard glue attached rubs about on the backs of the signatures; several of them are cut through, and the possibility of a rebinding with proper sewing is either gone forever or can be regained only after the long labor of mending many signatures.

When the cords or bands are broken in a book in which they are used it is as useless to attempt to fasten book and cover together as it is when the super gives way in publishers’ binding.