III
Another question related to arrangement is how best to number the
entries. The numbering can of course only reflect, and not determine, the
arrangement of the material, and in many ways it is a trivial matter.
Unquestionably there is a convenience in having entries numbered for
reference, but one might assume that any system of numbering (or
lettering), as long as it enabled one to locate an individual item, would
serve the purpose. And so it would. Difficulties arise only when one wishes
to make each number convey more information than simply a position in a
sequence of entries. Bibliographers have been increasingly concerned with
inventing entry numbers that reveal the place of an item in the general
scheme of organization of the bibliography in which it appears. In early
author bibliographies entries were either unnumbered or (as in Sadleir's
Trollope) assigned simple consecutive integers, from 1
onward.
Even after letters were introduced to identify the sections of
a bibliography, the entry numbers still might be a straightforward numerical
series within each section; thus in John Slocum and Herbert Cahoon's
bibliography of Joyce (1953), entries 3, 4, 5, and 6 in section A all are
concerned with Chamber Music.[52] A further development, generally
associated with the Soho series and widely imitated in other bibliographies,
was to assign a single number to each work and then to identify various
editions with an attached lower-case letter ("A3b" would refer to the second
edition of the third separately published
work by the author). This system was sometimes used illogically, with the
appended letters occasionally referring to selected impressions (often
subeditions) or issues as well as editions; and the Pittsburgh Series in
Bibliography, beginning in 1972, sought to refine the system. Although the
Pittsburgh volumes have varied somewhat from one to another, the general
approach was set by Matthew J. Bruccoli, general editor of the series, in
his bibliography of F. Scott Fitzgerald (1972). He employed references such
as "A8.1.a*," in order to specify impressions ("a") and issues ("*") as well
as editions ("1").
[53] There can be no
doubt that his reference numbers follow a more rigorously logical system
and convey more information than those previously
employed—though
at the cost of some rather cumbersome combinations.
The discussion of entry numbering has not stopped there, however,
for Craig S. Abbott, the author of another Pittsburgh bibliography (of
Marianne Moore, 1977), has written an article on the subject, proposing a
system that goes beyond Bruccoli's by taking subeditions into account
(although he confusingly calls them "issues" and thus uses "issue" to mean
two different things).[54] Each of his
numbers contains a single period, which follows the edition designator;
after the period, the figure indicating impression can be combined with
lower-case letters to mark subeditions (if the letter precedes the impression
number) and issues (if the letter follows the impression number), as well as
with parenthetical numbers to mark states. An Abbott number might
therefore look like "A9b.a6b(2)." The same number might even become
"A9b.a6[b](2)," since italics specifies simultaneous
publication[55] and brackets denote
indeterminate order. Nor is this all, for if one accepts the suggestion that
roman numerals be used for volume numbers and parenthetical letters for
binding variants, one might have "A9b.a6[b](2)II(b)."
Abbott's
proposal has not put an end to the devising of systems: James L. W. West
III, in his Styron bibliography (1977), sets forth and uses still another
scheme[56] designed to convey almost
as much, if in part rather different, information. An example of West's
notation is "A4.I.a.1†
b," in which
roman numerals refer to editions, lower-case letters to platings, arabic
numbers to impressions, and superscript letters preceded by daggers to
issues (superscript letters preceded by asterisks signify states). Both Abbott
and West recognize the need for a level of classification between
edition and
impression, but one chooses
subeditions
and the other platings. As we have already noticed, these two approaches
cannot be employed simultaneously for the actual arrangement of entries;
they could, however, be combined in reference numbers, but such
numbers—containing elements that do not relate to the position of the
entry in a bibliography—would raise the fundamental question of
what the
function of reference numbering is. Indeed, the systems of Bruccoli,
Abbott, and West already raise this question, for each seems to be moving
beyond the use of the number as a locator for an item and toward the idea
that the number is part of a notation system for recording in
shorthand fashion many of the significant aspects of any copy of a
book.
One may begin to think about this matter by observing that the
complexity of a reference number does not increase its usefulness for
locating an entry in a bibliography. Simple whole numbers, unencumbered
with letters or decimals, will serve as well as complex combinations; in
fact, they are preferable for this purpose, for they are generally easier to
print in an index and (unless they are very long) to remember. The
motivation for elaboration is obviously the desire to make the numbers
meaningful and not merely arbitrary, and up to a point making them
meaningful may also make them easier to remember—and at the
same
time makes an index particularly efficient, since each reference conveys
some further information without the need for explanatory phrases. But as
the impulse to elaborate grows, a point can be reached where the numbers
are no longer very efficient simply as references, and their primary function
becomes the provision of a coded statement. The latter approach is
taken for granted by Abbott throughout his discussion. "The importance of
reference numbers," he says at the outset, "has increased in recent years,
largely because bibliographies that seek to be definitive must now reflect the
findings of extensive machine collation." To anyone who thinks that
reference numbers exist primarily to facilitate reference, the idea that their
importance is affected by machine collation will be incomprehensible. The
connection is not greatly clarified by his next sentence: "The numbers are
needed to signal the ordering of more complex bodies of work and more
complete descriptions of the various impressions and issues of an edition."
Complex organization and description do not require complex reference
numbers unless those numbers are meant to convey fairly detailed
information about the items referred to. And whether the numbers ought to
perform that function
is not a question with an obvious answer. Actually Abbott appears less
interested in the labeling of entries than in the construction of a symbolic
language for referring to books. By providing for the specification of
binding variants, for instance, he is going beyond what would be called for
in an entry number, since binding is only one of the matters that would be
covered in an entry, and since other parts of the entry would deal with
features that do not vary, or vary independently of the binding. His system
seems headed in the direction of offering a means for denoting specific
copies of books. He also explicitly claims another use for his reference
numbers: "exact reference in apparatuses such as indexes of textual
variants." An example of what he means is the use of index entries to
sketch the textual history of a work by arranging the references in
chronological order (thus often placing periodicals or anthologies before
books by the author) and substituting other
marks for commas to separate the figures (an equals sign to mean no
revision and a plus to signify revision): "Ba55a=Ba55b=A1+A3.1+A3.2"
(p. 73). This suggestion (though it is unlike the previous one in not tending
toward the specification of individual copies) again assumes the value of
making utilitarian references convey additional meaning: if reference
numbers are to encode information about the items referred to, then an
index citing such numbers is perforce informative, even without explanatory
phrases, and one is naturally tempted to make it still more informative
through the addition of a few more symbols.
Obviously one can use any reference number, however bizarre or
unwieldy, to locate an item; one just accepts whatever number is provided
and makes do with it. For this reason the whole question, as I have said,
may be considered trivial. The only thing that makes it worth discussing is
the possibility that a complex number may offer little, if any, advantage to
compensate for its awkwardness. There is no question that many of the
aims proposed as reasons for the elaboration of reference numbers are in
themselves worthwhile; the issue is whether there is any point in attempting
to achieve those aims by means of the reference numbering. The use of a
classification scheme for reference numbers does frequently occur in certain
areas, as in the arrangement of books on library shelves, where the
motivation is to maintain a meaningful order and therefore to allow for
indefinite expansion at any point. For the same reasons subject checklists
may sometimes employ numbering systems
akin to library classification schemes. In a descriptive bibliography of an
author or publisher, on the other hand, or of an area or genre during a
particular period, expandability has not generally been a major concern,
even though new printings or editions of particular works may occur, and
new works may be discovered. The elaborate
systems that have been used in author bibliographies in recent decades do
provide for the addition of later editions and impressions to a sequence
already begun but do not conveniently allow for the future discovery of
editions, impressions, or works that would need to be interpolated between
those already recorded. Embedded in these systems, therefore, is the same
problem of interpolation that exists with a simple system of single
sequential numbers. Letters or decimals can always be added, but if the
references already contain letters and decimal points the result will be even
more awkward. In any case such additions would decrease the utility of the
references as conveyors of information, for numbers or letters would then
not necessarily indicate the absolute position of an item in a series: "A9,"
for instance, would not mean the ninth book or pamphlet if "A6.5" had
been inserted between "A6" and "A7." (The same would be true, of course,
if numbers were skipped over in the
original plan in anticipation of insertions.) It is clear, in other words, that
the increased complexity of reference numbers has not produced an
improvement in the way in which insertions are handled. Any possible
benefits from their complexity must be looked for in another
direction.
Those who have devised these complex systems obviously did not
intend them to facilitate insertions but were concerned instead with creating
references that would convey considerably more information than merely
the location of an item in a bibliography. In fact, allowing for insertions,
as we have just noticed, would in some respects work against the provision
of information; the irony of this situation is that the former is a clear
responsibility of reference numbering, whereas the latter is not directly
related to the job of reference at all. This confusion of priorities is curious,
since these systems were specifically designed for use in numbering entries;
but from the results one can see that the designers were really interested in
something else. In effect the goal of each (an explicit goal of Abbott's) was
to develop a system of notation for referring to particular printings of
particular editions of particular works; they then proposed to use this
notation for numbering
entries, without examining whether it was appropriate for that different
purpose. Many of the situations in which bibliographical citations are used
involve contexts that make such notation superfluous. A dealer's catalogue
entry, for example, would make clear that the item described is a second
printing or a third edition even if the appended citation included a reference
number encoding that fact; the citation is purely a reference to a standard
authority, and a simple arbitrary reference number would be no less
informative in such a context. In an index to a bibliography a case can be
made for reference numbers that contain
some informative elements, in order to eliminate the need for certain
subheadings; but reference numbers of considerable complexity rarely offer
additional benefits in an index, for they (however informative) cannot
substitute for the entries themselves and are no more efficient in guiding
one to the places where full information can be found. Abbott's idea that
a notational system can be useful in an index to show textual revision is
doubtful for similar reasons. Stringing the notations referring to particular
editions together with plus and equals signs cannot possibly convey much
about the textual history of a work and can neither substitute for the textual
information that should be present in the actual entries nor direct the reader
more effectively to those entries.
[57]
Numbering for reference purposes, one must conclude, is not likely
to be assisted, and may be made more awkward and inconvenient, by the
assumption that some kind of work-edition-impression-issue notation can
serve to form the reference numbers. But to say this is not to imply that
such notation may not have value for other purposes. Formularies for
concise notation are always potentially useful, to be drawn on at those times
when saying the equivalent in words would be cumbersome and would
impede the flow or reduce the clarity of a statement or discussion.
However, a system for reducing phrases like "the second issue of the
second printing of the third subedition of the first edition of the author's
sixth book" to symbolic form cannot be expected to play as central a role
in description as the formulary for signature collation does. In setting forth
a collation formula one is making a substantive statement that would nearly
always be less clear if expressed in words, and one
can use symbols that remain constant in their signification from book to
book. The places where one may at first be tempted to use a
work-edition-impression notation, in contrast, will often prove to be places
where the substantive content of the notation is not necessary (and any kind
of reference number will do as well) or places where words seem preferable
in the context; and while the general system can remain the same from book
to book, the effective meaning of the symbols will vary. In bibliographical
discourse there is frequent need to refer to a particular leaf or
page—as
a physical object—in terms of its place in the structure of a book,
quite
apart from any concern with what is printed
on it; but there is relatively little occasion to cite, for instance, the third
edition of an author's second book as such, without intending that the
reference be translated into a particular title, publisher, and date.
Nevertheless, I would not wish to deny that a standard notation for
this purpose may be desirable. My only concern is that symbols not be
needlessly multiplied. Some of the more elaborate possibilities derived from
these proposed systems, like the one cited earlier tending toward the
specification of an individual copy, lead one to anticipate an eventual row
of symbols beginning with a Library of Congress classification number (and
perhaps an International Standard Book Number), followed in turn by a
number of the Abbott or West type (including symbols for states of sheets
and binding variants), a signature collation, a "fingerprint" (as proposed by
John Jolliffe),[58] a National Union
Catalog symbol for the library holding the copy, and the call number or
shelf mark of the copy. What purpose might be served by this long
sequence I am not sure, though I am willing to believe there is one. But the
piling up of symbols can, I think, be extended beyond
the point of usefulness. A potential danger is the blurring of the distinction
between reference to individual copies and reference to a scholarly
description of an entire edition, impression, or issue[59] —which is to say, the
distinction
between an entry in a catalogue and an entry in a bibliography. Reference
numbers attached to entries in a bibliography cannot be references to
specific copies but must be references to accounts based on the examination
of a number of copies. This central distinction can be maintained, and
maintained efficiently, by a two-part plan operating within each entry: (1)
a record of copies examined is placed at the end of the entry, each copy
(sequentially numbered) identified by library symbol and call number or
accession number, followed by an indication of defects or peculiarities that
result from the post-publication history of the copy (and therefore not
encompassed by the concept of ideal
copy);[60] (2) any variation,
among copies on which an entry is based, that results from the printing and
publishing process (and is therefore encompassed within ideal
copy)—such as states of a given leaf or sheet—is
documented
parenthetically
by the citation of the numbers assigned to the copies containing the
variation in question. Whether or not one wishes to distinguish in form the
references to entries from the references to copies (as in "copy 5" of
"A9b"), the distinction is basic and must not be lost sight of.
We now return, by what may seem a circuitous route (but is, I
believe, a necessary one), to the matter of arrangement. Entry numbering
can be expected to reflect arrangement, but some kinds of numbering, when
adopted as a standard and rigidly applied, can also determine arrangement.
For example, I have heard people refer in a general sense to "A items" and
"B items"—by which they mean books wholly written by an author
and
books contributed to in some way by the author. This usage, roughly
reflecting a widespread (but by no means universal) bibliographical
practice, in turn influences other bibliographers to set up their
bibliographies in the same fashion. Although bibliographers should certainly
survey the practices of their predecessors, they should not be content to
have imposed on them a system of arrangement (or a system of numbering
implying an arrangement) that does not emerge from the circumstances of
the particular bibliography they are working on. There is not, in
fact, any great uniformity in the definition of the B section, so that general
allusions to "B items" are not very precise. If one uses the term simply to
mean "books contributed to by the author," then one is referring to items
sometimes included in the A section (e.g., books edited by the author) and
others at times separated into C or D or E sections (e.g., if books
containing original contributions, collected pieces, appearances, and letters
are segregated). Presumably one might deplore this lack of uniformity if
one could adduce an overwhelming reason for the necessity of a term like
"B items." But it serves no useful purpose—any more than the
presence
of the "B" in dealers' citations tells one something not already stated in
their descriptions. Certainly there can be no reason for such a usage that is
worth the price of having to submit to a single scheme of arrangement
prescribed in advance. In speaking about a particular bibliography, one
might wish to refer to "B
items" or "F items"; the terms would be clear in the context. But when
such terms are used to refer to bibliographies in general, their function is
shifted from the descriptive to the prescriptive, making reference numbering
an organizing force rather than a reflection of organization.
It follows that bibliographers should feel no less bound to use "A" for
a section dealing with books by an author than to use "B" for a section
recording some or all of the other books with which the author was
associated. One should first plan the arrangement of the bibliography and
then see what numbering system would be most appropriate in
that particular instance. It could well be that one would decide to use "A"
for the author's first published book, "B" for the second, and so on, with
appended numbers for editions. The description of the various editions of
books wholly by an author often occupies as much as two-thirds or
three-fourths of the bulk of the bibliography;
[61] prefixing an "A" to all the entry
numbers
in such a long section, as is commonly done, would seem to lengthen those
numbers needlessly. Instead, one might assign letters sequentially to the
succession of books, thereby saving one character in each entry number,
and switch to the use of letters for whole categories of works at the point
where the record of contributions to books begins. It is true that labeling
the author's books "A" through "S" and then using "T" for all the books
contributed to, for instance, means that letters are not used in parallel
fashion throughout. But I see no disadvantage resulting from
that fact. One can always use sectional divisions, like "Part I," "Part II,"
and so on, to mark the large units of a bibliography, without wasting spaces
in the entry numbers for this purpose. Although the entry numbers
throughout a bibliography must form a single sequence if they are
efficiently to serve the function of reference, there is no reason why any
given element in those numbers need have the same "meaning" throughout.
It is only because bibliographers sometimes place the classification function
ahead of the purely reference function in their numbering that they may
think otherwise. But there is nothing illogical or impractical about
employing different forms of numbering in different sections of a
bibliography where different levels of detail are recorded;
[62] one could still, if one wished, use
in any
particular section of a bibliography a system emphasizing classification, in
which each element must consistently signify the same thing.
Devising a system of numbering that conveys some information is not
necessarily a bad thing, for, as I have noted, such numbers can be useful
in an index. As long as one resists the temptation to overload the numbers
with informative elements—to the point where one loses sight of the
primary purpose of the numbers and makes them less efficient for
reference—a system that builds some meaning into the numbers can
in
many cases, through its mnemonic value, actually facilitate the job of
reference. How much detail is too much cannot be arbitrarily stated. Let me
suggest one approach that might seem appropriate in
some situations: information down to the level of impression could be
expressed in three characters by using capital letters to stand for works,
arabic numbers for editions, and arabic numbers following decimal points
for impressions, as in "C1.2." Eliminating the traditional letter standing for
the whole section of the author's own books effects a significant economy.
As a result, one may feel freer to insert one more element, representing
subeditions, which should be taken into account if impressions are to be
specified. Subeditions could be indicated by lower case letters following the
edition numbers, as in "C1b.2," clearly reflecting the fact that a subedition
is a part of an edition and has its own sequence of impressions.
[63] I would in most cases be reluctant
to
encode further information, and even these four characters would no doubt
seem excessive for some bibliographies.
[64] My suggestion of this scheme is
in the
spirit of what I have said earlier, and therefore I am not in any sense
proposing it as a standard. I intend it only as an example of what one might
come up with if one recognizes the folly of feeling bound to any single
system previously employed and understands the distinction between
reference and classification. It would obviously be inappropriate, without
modification, for an author who published more than twenty or so books,
since there might not be enough letters to cover those books and any
additional categories that would have to be included; nor would it probably
be appropriate if books contributed to by the author were treated in the
same detail as books wholly by the author, since both categories should
then receive the same kind of reference numbering, and again the number
of letters might be insufficient. One solution in these instances, rather than
the awkward doubling of letters, might be a reversal in the use of letters
and numbers, letting numbers stand for books
and letters for editions.
[65] That
solution illustrates how the reference numbering grows out of the particular
situation; but I am less concerned here with the solution in a specific
instance
than with the process of thinking involved. One must first decide on the
arrangement of the material; then one can consider whether the entries thus
arranged are better referred to by a straightforward series of consecutive
numbers or by a sequence of more complicated numbers that reflect in
some degree the classification scheme already adopted; and if the latter
approach (which is by no means an obvious choice) is selected, one can
then think about the system that will best serve the function of reference
and at the same time reveal some (how much is a further question) of the
information conveyed by the arrangement.
The numbering of entries is clearly dependent on the arrangement of
the material. And the arrangement of the material emerges from the process
of thinking about the material. The question of arranging material in a
bibliography is inextricably connected to the whole process of historical
research and writing, to the problem of finding order in the raw material
of history. The way in which results are presented is central to the meaning
one has found in the historical record. I have ventured some opinions here
about such matters as the ordering of impressions and issues, the degressive
and segregated treatment of anthologies and periodicals, and the numbering
of the resulting entries, but I regard my comments less as solutions than as
examples of thinking. Writing a bibliography is not a mechanical task, and
the urge to follow mindlessly a set of instructions will produce no better
results in bibliography than anywhere else. The quality of a bibliography,
like any other
intellectual product, depends on the quality of thought that has gone into it.
The arrangement of the material is a basic reflection of that thought.
