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Nicholas Culpeper’s herbal (cat. 47), a compendium of natural cures, gives its reader tools for self-diagnosis and self-healing. The reader of this book looked toward a future self and also measured his or her present self against an implied norm, such that anger, sorrow or melancholy, for example, could be understood as conditions to cure. While books like this allowed readers to be their own physicians, they also subjected them to norms of health that potentially marked everyday emotions and reactions as symptoms of pathology. potentially marked everyday emotions and reactions as symptoms of pathology.

Figure 52 Nicholas Culpeper’s herbal (cat. 47), a compendium of natural cures, gives its reader tools for self-diagnosis and self-healing. The reader of this book looked toward a future self and also measured his or her present self against an implied norm, such that anger, sorrow or melancholy, for example, could be understood as conditions to cure. While books like this allowed readers to be their own physicians, they also subjected them to norms of health that potentially marked everyday emotions and reactions as symptoms of pathology. potentially marked everyday emotions and reactions as symptoms of pathology.

Related Figures (81)

From Whitney, Choice of Emblemes
From Whitney, Choice of Emblemes
Alexander Read, Somatographia Anthropine (1616, from 1634 ed.) the scale and organization of the human “store-house of memory,
Alexander Read, Somatographia Anthropine (1616, from 1634 ed.) the scale and organization of the human “store-house of memory,
tion of the particular person and life. It thus seems disconcerting that several of the woodcuts are used multiple times, and that they come
tion of the particular person and life. It thus seems disconcerting that several of the woodcuts are used multiple times, and that they come
For a book to be usable, it must of course be legible, Hieronymus Hornschuch’s Orthotypographia (cat. 2) was the first technical manual for print- ers, specifically for correctors, those hired by the printing house to proofread the individual sheets of a book. Hornschuch’s manual for regularizing produc- tion aimed both to eliminate error and make books clearer and thus more usable; at the same time, it demonstrates how a book could be subject to use even during the process of making it. The proofreaders’ marks that Hornschuch illustrates vanish from the corrected page and the printed book, rendering the process of correction all but invisible in the historical archive of early print. Hornschuch’s printed marks remind us, then, that the corrector’s manuscript marks, though seldom preserved, were integral to the making of books: proof- reading is on a continuum with the reading it facilitates, evincing a highly prac- tical (if conventional) engagement, on the part of a specific kind of reader, with an author’s text.
For a book to be usable, it must of course be legible, Hieronymus Hornschuch’s Orthotypographia (cat. 2) was the first technical manual for print- ers, specifically for correctors, those hired by the printing house to proofread the individual sheets of a book. Hornschuch’s manual for regularizing produc- tion aimed both to eliminate error and make books clearer and thus more usable; at the same time, it demonstrates how a book could be subject to use even during the process of making it. The proofreaders’ marks that Hornschuch illustrates vanish from the corrected page and the printed book, rendering the process of correction all but invisible in the historical archive of early print. Hornschuch’s printed marks remind us, then, that the corrector’s manuscript marks, though seldom preserved, were integral to the making of books: proof- reading is on a continuum with the reading it facilitates, evincing a highly prac- tical (if conventional) engagement, on the part of a specific kind of reader, with an author’s text.
One way to mark a book is to write one’s name in it. This is a sign of identifi- cation, ownership, property, but not necessarily use. The three texts illustrated here carry evidence of ownership and also of private and public use. The cover of the small seventeenth-century Bible (cat. 4) was embroidered, and its front edge elaborately decorated, possibly by the women of an Anglican community at Little Gidding, which ran a well-known bindery that concentrated on Bibles and devotional works. Given that books in this period were often bought unbound, a binding could indicate the owner’s economic status and his or her (as opposed to the author's) sense of the book. This binding is unusually expres- sive of the owner’s relation to the book as a precious object for devotional use. sive of the owner’s relation to the book as a precious object for devotional use.
One way to mark a book is to write one’s name in it. This is a sign of identifi- cation, ownership, property, but not necessarily use. The three texts illustrated here carry evidence of ownership and also of private and public use. The cover of the small seventeenth-century Bible (cat. 4) was embroidered, and its front edge elaborately decorated, possibly by the women of an Anglican community at Little Gidding, which ran a well-known bindery that concentrated on Bibles and devotional works. Given that books in this period were often bought unbound, a binding could indicate the owner’s economic status and his or her (as opposed to the author's) sense of the book. This binding is unusually expres- sive of the owner’s relation to the book as a precious object for devotional use. sive of the owner’s relation to the book as a precious object for devotional use.
As is true today, early readers wrote in their books by underlining passages of interest or by adding commentary, queries, objections. The short text edited by Léger Duchene (cat. 5), made up of proverbs and maxims spuriously attri- buted to the Roman philosopher Seneca, was printed for use at the University of Paris. While marginalia are often a striking index of personal engagement, the manuscript annotations (ca. 1560) that fill this book and its margins are probably a student’s notes on his professor’s lecture, and thus point to a complex negotiation among readers experiencing and using the text collectively.
As is true today, early readers wrote in their books by underlining passages of interest or by adding commentary, queries, objections. The short text edited by Léger Duchene (cat. 5), made up of proverbs and maxims spuriously attri- buted to the Roman philosopher Seneca, was printed for use at the University of Paris. While marginalia are often a striking index of personal engagement, the manuscript annotations (ca. 1560) that fill this book and its margins are probably a student’s notes on his professor’s lecture, and thus point to a complex negotiation among readers experiencing and using the text collectively.
Burton’s title (by no means the longest in the period) is in many ways typical in elaborating its subject matter and indicating the book’s internal struc- ture. By referring to the fields of philosophy, medicine and history, Burton’s title designates its multiple methodological and market orientations. The illus- trations on the title page are so complex as to require a commentary, called the “Argument of the Frontispiece,’ on the facing page. The image of Burton at the bottom center continues a tradition of author portraits from the manu- script era and works as the early modern version of a dust jacket photograph. In the highly competitive early print market, the title page was a crucial adver- tising strategy, a site where the author and printer could authorize the contents that followed. By means of the title, the book not only described its uses, but also reflected on itself by imagining the social and intellectual spheres to which it contributed and belonged. In this sense, it can be said that a book’s theoretical dimension was produced partly by the market, even as the market was in turn refined by textual and disciplinary specialization.
Burton’s title (by no means the longest in the period) is in many ways typical in elaborating its subject matter and indicating the book’s internal struc- ture. By referring to the fields of philosophy, medicine and history, Burton’s title designates its multiple methodological and market orientations. The illus- trations on the title page are so complex as to require a commentary, called the “Argument of the Frontispiece,’ on the facing page. The image of Burton at the bottom center continues a tradition of author portraits from the manu- script era and works as the early modern version of a dust jacket photograph. In the highly competitive early print market, the title page was a crucial adver- tising strategy, a site where the author and printer could authorize the contents that followed. By means of the title, the book not only described its uses, but also reflected on itself by imagining the social and intellectual spheres to which it contributed and belonged. In this sense, it can be said that a book’s theoretical dimension was produced partly by the market, even as the market was in turn refined by textual and disciplinary specialization.
As interested as Micrographia is in scientific accuracy, in fact, the book seems enthralled by the pleasure of its visual effects. In his description of the flea, for example, Hooke draws a distinction between the “strength and beauty of this small creature.” For strength, “the Microscope is able to make no greater disco- veries of it then the naked eye”; “But, as for the beauty of it,” he says, “the micro- scope manifests it to be all over adorn’d with a curiously polish’d suit of sable, Armour, neatly jointed, and beset with multitudes of sharp pinns, shap’d almost like Porcupine’s Quills, or bright conical Steel-bodkins” (210). The turn here to aesthetic detail and the delight of seeing the world up close suggests how book technology could forge new relationships between science and visual pleasure.
As interested as Micrographia is in scientific accuracy, in fact, the book seems enthralled by the pleasure of its visual effects. In his description of the flea, for example, Hooke draws a distinction between the “strength and beauty of this small creature.” For strength, “the Microscope is able to make no greater disco- veries of it then the naked eye”; “But, as for the beauty of it,” he says, “the micro- scope manifests it to be all over adorn’d with a curiously polish’d suit of sable, Armour, neatly jointed, and beset with multitudes of sharp pinns, shap’d almost like Porcupine’s Quills, or bright conical Steel-bodkins” (210). The turn here to aesthetic detail and the delight of seeing the world up close suggests how book technology could forge new relationships between science and visual pleasure.
Humanists like Erasmus gave Terence a prominent place in the school curri- culum. Schoolboys were encouraged to mine the comedies both for their moral pithiness and for the rhetorical fullness of the Latin. The three remaining Terences shown here convert the plays into a practically useful phrase book. Cornelius de Schryver’s 1533 phrase book (cat. 12) abstracts Terence’s plays, digesting them scene by scene into the phrases or verbal formulae that a schoolboy might be expected to take away from his reading and commit to memory for later use. As a pedagogical crib, it is a precursor to short-cut guides to literary texts.
Humanists like Erasmus gave Terence a prominent place in the school curri- culum. Schoolboys were encouraged to mine the comedies both for their moral pithiness and for the rhetorical fullness of the Latin. The three remaining Terences shown here convert the plays into a practically useful phrase book. Cornelius de Schryver’s 1533 phrase book (cat. 12) abstracts Terence’s plays, digesting them scene by scene into the phrases or verbal formulae that a schoolboy might be expected to take away from his reading and commit to memory for later use. As a pedagogical crib, it is a precursor to short-cut guides to literary texts.
ed To take an example from later in the century, a Restoration reader gathered together eight separately printed plays of James Shirley in a single volume, adding a rudimentary manuscript table of contents on the front flyleaf. However modest this book may seem in comparison to Jonson’s, the compiler has articulated a similar sense of the dramatist’s literary authority by consti- tuting a new whole. has articulated a similar sense of the dramatist’s literary authority by consti-
ed To take an example from later in the century, a Restoration reader gathered together eight separately printed plays of James Shirley in a single volume, adding a rudimentary manuscript table of contents on the front flyleaf. However modest this book may seem in comparison to Jonson’s, the compiler has articulated a similar sense of the dramatist’s literary authority by consti- tuting a new whole. has articulated a similar sense of the dramatist’s literary authority by consti-
Prefaces and errata sheets help us think about book use because they establish particular relationships between author and reader. Like the titles, prefaces to the general reader or to a specific patron guided use by highlighting or theo- rizing the social significance and methodological stakes of the topic. Furthermore, they offered the opportunity for presenting a version of the reader to himself or herself, as a patron worthy to be flattered, or as one of those capable of being educated.
Prefaces and errata sheets help us think about book use because they establish particular relationships between author and reader. Like the titles, prefaces to the general reader or to a specific patron guided use by highlighting or theo- rizing the social significance and methodological stakes of the topic. Furthermore, they offered the opportunity for presenting a version of the reader to himself or herself, as a patron worthy to be flattered, or as one of those capable of being educated.
Bookends: Preface and Errata
Bookends: Preface and Errata
Prynne’s fate dramatically shows that indexes are not'neutral. This is no less true of the index that concludes The Temple, George Herbert’s posthumously published collection of poems (cat. 22). This was the first such index to an English book of poems. Although it does nothing more than list the titles of the individual poems in alphabetical order, it was innovative in thus making the book available for a specific, devotional use. A reader, that is, could use the The index (from the Latin for “forefinger” and “point out”) became instru- mental to the use of the book, not only by making the contents usefilly acces- sible but also by identifying what were, at least in theory, the book’s central subjects. Indexes allowed for non-sequential reading and for accessing informa- tion in ways other than those suggested by the book’s narrative logic. In fact, it was possible to read an index first, or even instead of the book. Something like this happened in the case of Histrio-mastix (cat. 21), a massive anti-theatrical treatise by the Puritan polemicist William Prynne. An entry in the concluding index or “table” cost Prynne his ears. Under the heading “Women-Actors” Prynne had directed his readers first to “notorious whores. p. 162, 214, 215, 1002, 1003.” This entry was taken by King Charles to be an insult against the Queen, Henrietta Maria, who took speaking parts in plays presented at court.
Prynne’s fate dramatically shows that indexes are not'neutral. This is no less true of the index that concludes The Temple, George Herbert’s posthumously published collection of poems (cat. 22). This was the first such index to an English book of poems. Although it does nothing more than list the titles of the individual poems in alphabetical order, it was innovative in thus making the book available for a specific, devotional use. A reader, that is, could use the The index (from the Latin for “forefinger” and “point out”) became instru- mental to the use of the book, not only by making the contents usefilly acces- sible but also by identifying what were, at least in theory, the book’s central subjects. Indexes allowed for non-sequential reading and for accessing informa- tion in ways other than those suggested by the book’s narrative logic. In fact, it was possible to read an index first, or even instead of the book. Something like this happened in the case of Histrio-mastix (cat. 21), a massive anti-theatrical treatise by the Puritan polemicist William Prynne. An entry in the concluding index or “table” cost Prynne his ears. Under the heading “Women-Actors” Prynne had directed his readers first to “notorious whores. p. 162, 214, 215, 1002, 1003.” This entry was taken by King Charles to be an insult against the Queen, Henrietta Maria, who took speaking parts in plays presented at court.
index to find poems on a given religious topic appropriate for meditation: “Avarice,” “SelfCondemnation,” “Conscience,” “The Crosse,” “Easter,” “Love,” “Mortification,” “Sunday,” “Ungratefulnesse.”
index to find poems on a given religious topic appropriate for meditation: “Avarice,” “SelfCondemnation,” “Conscience,” “The Crosse,” “Easter,” “Love,” “Mortification,” “Sunday,” “Ungratefulnesse.”
use at the dinner table. By their nature, manuscript commonplace books such as Ducke’s would seem to be most useful to their compiler. This was not always the case. An interesting feature of the book is that it was used by a second reader around 1686, one Edward Jones, who supplemented it by adding stories and jokes, mainly of a sexual nature. Most remarkably, he added an index to the pages compiled by Ducke sixty years earlier. Jones’s appropriation of Ducke’s book can be seen as a logical step in a process in which all reading was appropriation.
use at the dinner table. By their nature, manuscript commonplace books such as Ducke’s would seem to be most useful to their compiler. This was not always the case. An interesting feature of the book is that it was used by a second reader around 1686, one Edward Jones, who supplemented it by adding stories and jokes, mainly of a sexual nature. Most remarkably, he added an index to the pages compiled by Ducke sixty years earlier. Jones’s appropriation of Ducke’s book can be seen as a logical step in a process in which all reading was appropriation.
Legal abridgments like Thomas Ashe’s condensed version of Plowden (cat. 34) helped lawyers avoid in another way the difficulties of sifting through innumerable particulars in their practical and case-by-case pursuit of method. Early readers of both Ashe and Plowden have left marginalia, the traces of their part in completing the books by synthesizing and generalizing from their particulars. The blank space of the margin here is critical matter for methodical work. Early readers of both Ashe and Plowden have left marginalia, the traces of
Legal abridgments like Thomas Ashe’s condensed version of Plowden (cat. 34) helped lawyers avoid in another way the difficulties of sifting through innumerable particulars in their practical and case-by-case pursuit of method. Early readers of both Ashe and Plowden have left marginalia, the traces of their part in completing the books by synthesizing and generalizing from their particulars. The blank space of the margin here is critical matter for methodical work. Early readers of both Ashe and Plowden have left marginalia, the traces of
Devotional manuals are designed, of course, to help readers find their ways to the ultimate reward: God. Jeremy Taylor’s immensely popular devotional (cat. 52, not illustrated), a late example of the genre, directly connects theo- logical ideals and quotidian practice: by fitting specific prayers “to the seueral Days of the Week,’ Taylor allows his readers to orient themselves beyond time. Peter (Pierre) Berault’s book (cat. 53) moves the reader in the opposite direc- tion. Nominally a devotional, it is also a language manual, printing all of its prayers in English and French on facing pages. Indeed, Berault uses the book’s front flyleaf to advertise his skills as a language tutor, and to provide directions to the house where he gave Latin and French lessons. Readers of his book could orient themselves to the divine, in order then to perfect a worldly skill.
Devotional manuals are designed, of course, to help readers find their ways to the ultimate reward: God. Jeremy Taylor’s immensely popular devotional (cat. 52, not illustrated), a late example of the genre, directly connects theo- logical ideals and quotidian practice: by fitting specific prayers “to the seueral Days of the Week,’ Taylor allows his readers to orient themselves beyond time. Peter (Pierre) Berault’s book (cat. 53) moves the reader in the opposite direc- tion. Nominally a devotional, it is also a language manual, printing all of its prayers in English and French on facing pages. Indeed, Berault uses the book’s front flyleaf to advertise his skills as a language tutor, and to provide directions to the house where he gave Latin and French lessons. Readers of his book could orient themselves to the divine, in order then to perfect a worldly skill.
Ottavio Fabri’s beautifully illustrated treatise on the squadra mobile, a newly invented adjustable set square (cat. $5), promoted the instrument by demon- strating its theory and usefulness to cartographers, surveyors, navigators and others involved in the measurement of distance and depth. The first part of Leonard Digges’s Geometrical Practise (cat. 56) similarly teaches Euclidean prin- ciples through the application of traditional instruments such as the geometric
Ottavio Fabri’s beautifully illustrated treatise on the squadra mobile, a newly invented adjustable set square (cat. $5), promoted the instrument by demon- strating its theory and usefulness to cartographers, surveyors, navigators and others involved in the measurement of distance and depth. The first part of Leonard Digges’s Geometrical Practise (cat. 56) similarly teaches Euclidean prin- ciples through the application of traditional instruments such as the geometric
square, semicircle and planisphere. The illustration shown underscores Digges’s sense that practice perfects knowledge of theoretical principle. This is a point that Digges makes in terms of his own book: by “searching out the reason and demonstration” of the book’s basic principles, he notes, “the diligent prac- tizioner” will learn to think for himself and discover or “inuent manifolde meanes to resolue the like or other stranger questions” (L3v).
square, semicircle and planisphere. The illustration shown underscores Digges’s sense that practice perfects knowledge of theoretical principle. This is a point that Digges makes in terms of his own book: by “searching out the reason and demonstration” of the book’s basic principles, he notes, “the diligent prac- tizioner” will learn to think for himself and discover or “inuent manifolde meanes to resolue the like or other stranger questions” (L3v).
sometimes consisting of multiple layers. On the page shown (588), there are in total five separate and movable layers. The weighted threads extending from the circles’ centers allowed the user to calculate spatial positions and relations for particular times. The book was useful for making scientific calculations of astronomical phenomena within the Ptolomaic system, and also for making astrological calculations for the creation of horoscopes or the identification of propitious and unpropitious times.
sometimes consisting of multiple layers. On the page shown (588), there are in total five separate and movable layers. The weighted threads extending from the circles’ centers allowed the user to calculate spatial positions and relations for particular times. The book was useful for making scientific calculations of astronomical phenomena within the Ptolomaic system, and also for making astrological calculations for the creation of horoscopes or the identification of propitious and unpropitious times.
Vincenzo Coronelli’s cosmographic atlas (cat. 60) came equipped with far more elaborate and geometrically detailed foldouts. These extend the space of the page and the book, transforming their rectilinear shape into a circle in order to represent the terrestrial and celestial globes. The foldouts allow readers to use the text as a substitute for the scientific instrument (the telescope) that produced them. That said, it is notable how fragile the manipulable pages are as tools, and what a delicate touch is required to unfold them and return them back to the space of the book. Might it be that copies of Coronelli’s book in which these maps are so well preserved are those that were, in fact, never used? produced them. That said, it is notable how fragile the manipulable pages are as
Vincenzo Coronelli’s cosmographic atlas (cat. 60) came equipped with far more elaborate and geometrically detailed foldouts. These extend the space of the page and the book, transforming their rectilinear shape into a circle in order to represent the terrestrial and celestial globes. The foldouts allow readers to use the text as a substitute for the scientific instrument (the telescope) that produced them. That said, it is notable how fragile the manipulable pages are as tools, and what a delicate touch is required to unfold them and return them back to the space of the book. Might it be that copies of Coronelli’s book in which these maps are so well preserved are those that were, in fact, never used? produced them. That said, it is notable how fragile the manipulable pages are as
In contrast to extendable paper surfaces, the arts of perspective and chiaroscuro offered ways of representing depth or three-dimensionality using only the flat plane of the page. The engravings in Humphrey Prideaux’s guide to the Earl of Arundel’s collection of classical marbles (cat. 61) depict statues and reliefs through the use of light and shadow (chiaroscuro). The figures seem to emerge from the page, but less as natural human bodies than as distinctly sculptural forms, suggesting the priority of aesthetic mediation in these por- trayals of the human. While engraving technique allowed the page to approxi- mate the contours of space in the material world, it also encouraged a more self-conscious attention to the aesthetics of dimensional representation.
In contrast to extendable paper surfaces, the arts of perspective and chiaroscuro offered ways of representing depth or three-dimensionality using only the flat plane of the page. The engravings in Humphrey Prideaux’s guide to the Earl of Arundel’s collection of classical marbles (cat. 61) depict statues and reliefs through the use of light and shadow (chiaroscuro). The figures seem to emerge from the page, but less as natural human bodies than as distinctly sculptural forms, suggesting the priority of aesthetic mediation in these por- trayals of the human. While engraving technique allowed the page to approxi- mate the contours of space in the material world, it also encouraged a more self-conscious attention to the aesthetics of dimensional representation.
Acts of memory always require a movement of the mind in time. Memory texts aided memorization by locating or anchoring memory, instead, in space, notably in a familiar room or on the human body. The two illustrations from Filippo Gesualdo’s Plvtosofia (cat. 64) demonstrate how the art of memory drew on forms of dimensional thinking being perfected in the domains of architecture and anatomy. and anatomy.
Acts of memory always require a movement of the mind in time. Memory texts aided memorization by locating or anchoring memory, instead, in space, notably in a familiar room or on the human body. The two illustrations from Filippo Gesualdo’s Plvtosofia (cat. 64) demonstrate how the art of memory drew on forms of dimensional thinking being perfected in the domains of architecture and anatomy. and anatomy.
reader’s attempt to find a simpler and more easily remembered guide to practice. Heinrich Dobel's memory treatise (cat. 65) depends on the material dimension of language itself, on words occupying both space and time as writing, reading and speaking. As shown in the illustration, Débel’s system for remembering historical dates recodes them as significant letters (as given in Roman capitals) in a simple verbalization of the event to be remembered. As this system reminds us, one of the oldest mnemonic aids is organized language, especially in the form of poetry. The manuscript poem added to the flyleaf of William West’s collection of legal forms and formulae (cat. 66) constitutes an art of memory. A popular mnemonic on land conveyance (“Whoe wilbe wise in purchasing”), it lays out a set of simple rules by which a purchaser or attorney could test whether a real estate transaction was secure. In contrast to West’s extensive elaboration of prescriptive legal forms, the poem records one reader’s attempt to find a simpler and more easily remembered guide to practice.
reader’s attempt to find a simpler and more easily remembered guide to practice. Heinrich Dobel's memory treatise (cat. 65) depends on the material dimension of language itself, on words occupying both space and time as writing, reading and speaking. As shown in the illustration, Débel’s system for remembering historical dates recodes them as significant letters (as given in Roman capitals) in a simple verbalization of the event to be remembered. As this system reminds us, one of the oldest mnemonic aids is organized language, especially in the form of poetry. The manuscript poem added to the flyleaf of William West’s collection of legal forms and formulae (cat. 66) constitutes an art of memory. A popular mnemonic on land conveyance (“Whoe wilbe wise in purchasing”), it lays out a set of simple rules by which a purchaser or attorney could test whether a real estate transaction was secure. In contrast to West’s extensive elaboration of prescriptive legal forms, the poem records one reader’s attempt to find a simpler and more easily remembered guide to practice.
This copy of Batman is interesting, in fact, for the information added in 1600 and 1605 by one of the book’s early readers. Adapting the book to per- sonal needs, the owner used the front flyleaf to record useful practices from other sources, notably local and oral ones. The owner takes care to authorize these as dependable, either by identifying their source or by giving brief testi- mony regarding the history of their use. In one dramatic instance, a medical remedy is called “soveraigne” because it was used at court, “proved throughly vppon margarit Homerson, wife to one of the Kings servantes.”
This copy of Batman is interesting, in fact, for the information added in 1600 and 1605 by one of the book’s early readers. Adapting the book to per- sonal needs, the owner used the front flyleaf to record useful practices from other sources, notably local and oral ones. The owner takes care to authorize these as dependable, either by identifying their source or by giving brief testi- mony regarding the history of their use. In one dramatic instance, a medical remedy is called “soveraigne” because it was used at court, “proved throughly vppon margarit Homerson, wife to one of the Kings servantes.”
ulation and division, to approach the acoustical phenomena that are the book’s
ulation and division, to approach the acoustical phenomena that are the book’s
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