In bindings and rebindings one of the most essential things to be secured is ease of opening. A book that opens out easily, and lies flat without being pressed or held in position, will probably keep clean and whole for more than twice as many lendings as one that is held together tightly at the back. As a great many of the library books which call for rebindings have to be trimmed at the back and overcast, it is essential that the overcast sewing be of a flexible nature, one that permits of the easy opening of the book. Probably few of the factors in book construction and book injury have been more effective than the tight binding, held open with difficulty, which is produced by nearly all of the current overcasting or whipstitching.
Another point that cannot be too strongly insisted on is that books not only differ from one another in their natures and so require different treatment in binding; but also differ in the use they are to receive, and require different bindings on that account.
It should be understood that bookbinding is a craft in the best sense of that word. To bind a book well calls for good judgment and care at every step. The librarian can draw up schedules with infinity of detail, and make them as correct as he may please, basing them on experience without end; and the binder, so far as material and processes are concerned, may seem to follow these specifications exactly, and still may produce poor bindings. To secure a good binding the spirit of the binder must go into it. In drawing the thread, in paring and placing the leather, in applying the paste and glue, and in every other of the many processes involved, the man without good will, as the man without skill, can spoil the whole binding. Librarians should learn to esteem bookbinding highly. It is a craft which lies close to them. It is preëminently their business to encourage it to grow in excellence. They should develop their local binder’s interest in his calling, stand by him, urge him on to better work, and pay him adequately for it.
One may frankly say that the character of binding done in nearly all libraries in America has been, up to the present time, a discredit to the library profession. We owe it to ourselves to take up this craft and do what we can to elevate it.
One objection sometimes made to bindings of the highest grade is that they last too long; and after the book is too greatly soiled and tattered within to be longer kept, the binding itself still holds, showing that more care has been put into its construction, and consequently more cost, than it needed. The objection needs only to be stated for its absurdity to be seen. The thorough binder, the skilled craftsman, adapts his binding to the book and to the use, as far as he can judge of it, which it is to receive.
He binds each book so well that it will hold together to the end of time; or until its paper fairly drops to pieces. He can issue with each volume no guarantee that it will not receive more than its proper baptism of dirt from careless borrowers long before the paper in it begins to give way and fray out. The binder’s obligation is to bind the book well. It is the librarian’s business to see that the book is, as to its interior, well treated. As to its binding lasting too long, why should the librarian concern himself about the shell after the kernel is eaten? It should be noted again, however, that a book well bound, opening easily, and lying open without pressure from fingers or thumbs, keeps clean many times longer than one that opens hard.
The sum of all my observations is, the best is the cheapest. If a book is worth binding let it be bound by the best man available. If possible, buy books so well bound from the publishers’ sheets, that they will never need to be bound again.