University of Virginia Library

III

These considerations can perhaps best be summarized in the form of a new definition:

A further statement can make more explicit the relation of binding to ideal copy, though what is said here is implied in the foregoing definition: This approach to ideal copy is somewhat different from the views of it that have been expressed previously, though I think it is in line with the spirit of the best of those earlier discussions.

In particular, this approach departs from the usual concept of an ideal copy (in the singular) by suggesting that the standard to be described is not a single preferred form but a range of alternatives that encompasses all the states of each sheet as they were issued. It does not seem logical to distinguish those differences that affect the physical structure of the folded sheets (and thus the collation formula) from those differences that affect only the text printed on the sheets, and then to limit the concept of ideal copy to one of those categories. Both kinds of differences are physical, and both may result either from conscious intention or from accident—or from both at once, as when new errors are created in the process of making corrections. And it does not therefore seem reasonable to limit ideal copy to a single state or single collection of states: there is no reason to elevate either a first state or a second state to a position as a basic standard, since neither is necessarily closer to the "intended" standard of the producer. What a bibliography can more valuably concern itself with is constructing an accurate historical account of the various forms of an issue that were put on the market; the fact that one form of an issue may happen to be more "correct," either in the arrangement of its leaves or in the quality of its text, does not make it the standard for the issue, since copies exhibiting other states may also be authentic exemplars of the issue as a whole. The editor of a facsimile edition must select a single state of any given page to appear in the body of the facsimile (and may well choose the "uncorrected" state in many cases as being closer to the author's wishes); but the bibliographer has no such necessity for choice and indeed may offer a misleading historical picture if certain states are subordinated to a single "ideal copy." The bibliographer's task requires careful judgment and historical scholarship, just as the editor's does. But that judgment and scholarship must first of all be directed toward distinguishing between what has happened to copies of books since their release and what happened to them before that time. This essentially simple view of ideal copy—or whatever we choose to call the concept—emphasizes the distinction that must be basic to the historical study of books. And while the concept may be simple, the decisions to be made in determining the status of certain features of individual copies of books are frequently far from simple.

Thinking about ideal copy as a concept inevitably leads one to consider the nature of library cataloguing and its relation to descriptive bibliography. The fact that there is sometimes a confusion in cataloguing

as to the aim of the process—whether works (intellectual constructions) or books (physical objects) are being recorded—has previously been commented upon.[37] Insofar as catalogue entries are taken to concern physical books, a related confusion concerns whether each entry applies to a particular copy of a book or more generally to the issue or impression of which that copy is a part. Ostensibly, of course, a catalogue records the copies in a given collection and does not pretend to be a bibliography (which draws on evidence from many copies to present a generalized account). But matters are often not so clear-cut. There are instances in which a cataloguer consults some sources external to the book being catalogued (other copies of the book in the same collection, perhaps, or catalogues of other collections, or a standard reference work) but does not undertake the extensive research that underlies a bibliographical description. This situation causes no problem so long as the specific copy is accurately recorded, in whatever level of detail has been established, and any observations on the relation of that copy to others are labeled for what they are and documented. Where the trouble occurs is when a cataloguer blurs the distinction between the individual copy and the so-called ideal copy, blending details from both and not keeping either approach clearly in focus.

It would seem that the Library of Congress has unwittingly been the culprit in fostering this confused view. The public distribution of LC printed catalogue cards, which began in 1901, has had its effect both on cataloguers at LC and on some cataloguers elsewhere: it has caused the former to subordinate the presumed defects of LC copies and the latter to believe, following the example set by the widely circulated LC cards, that the function of catalogue cards is to describe ideal copies. LC cards, it is true, mention what are taken to be imperfections in LC copies, but frequently in the form of notes to the basic entries, thus reversing the proper emphasis and placing in primary position entries that do not in fact correspond exactly to the copies they represent. Some people have argued that this approach does little harm in connection with twentieth-century books—and it is largely for twentieth-century books that LC cards have served other libraries' cataloguing needs. But it is a mistake to assume that differences are uncommon among copies of twentieth-century books: they are in fact quite common. Contrary to what many people still seem to believe, machine-printed books demand just as close scrutiny as hand-printed books and often present more perplexing problems. In any case, the distinction between a description based on a single copy and one that draws conclusions based on the evidence

from many copies is essential and must apply to books of all periods.

The emphasis in discussions of library cataloguing has of course now moved from card catalogues to computers, but this blurred distinction between individual and ideal copy, inherited from card-catalogue days, is still with us, and in an insidious form. Those who talk about computer-assisted national bibliographic networks often refer to, or at least assume the future existence of, a data base containing entries that can be regarded somehow as standard, without considering how entries supplied by individual libraries become converted into a more authoritative statement utilizing the evidence from the various copies reported. The networks that presently exist, like OCLC and RLIN,[38] are used to a large extent by their subscribing libraries as a means for producing catalogue cards: the libraries check to see whether a given item has already been entered into the system; if it has, they make any alterations they wish in the entry and then indicate that they are ordering cards, and if it has not been previously entered, they enter it and order the cards. The real importance of the system has nothing to do with cards, and the central bibliographical problem will remain even when cards are no longer a part of the thinking of those who consult the record. Even though individual libraries can change the recorded entries for their own purposes—or to fit their own copies—the question of what description is to appear on the screen of the terminal is still a matter of considerable importance. Is it simply the first copy to be entered in the system? Or is the network to offer in some way what it regards as the "best" entry for a given item? Can any library or individual that calls up an entry infer that what appears on the screen represents a standard against which any given copy is to be measured? At present OCLC generally provides only a single entry for an item, whereas RLIN allows users to see multiple entries when they exist. The latter approach is the only one that is defensible from a scholarly point of view, and in the long run it is the approach that will have to be made available in a consolidated international network. When entries are based on individual copies—if, that is, they really are, as they purport to be—there is no mechanical or easy way of selecting from them a single "basic" or "standard" entry. Nor is there any reason why we should expect, or desire, a single entry to be chosen for us. It would be unfortunate if, in the early stages of a new medium, we were to allow the confusions

previously nourished by LC printed cards to dominate our thinking. Entries, regardless of their level of detail, that refer to an issue or impression as a whole can only be the result of an act of historical scholarship—which involves judgment and interpretation—and cannot be based on the examination of a single copy or on a superficial choice among the reports of several copies.

Individuals or institutions (i.e., individuals representing institutions) may wish to construct such historical accounts, and there is nothing wrong with their entering the results into a data base, so long as what they enter is clearly labeled. Indeed, such scholarship should be encouraged and welcomed, just as printed bibliographies are welcomed when they mark an advance in knowledge through the play of an informed intelligence over the assembled pieces of evidence. This kind of description should have the same status whether it appears on a cathode ray tube or on a printed page; it is an act of integration, and it can be well done or badly done, and it may stand as the authority for a considerable time or be superseded in short order by superior work. The quality of particular pieces of research cannot be legislated, nor can scholarly authority be upheld by decree or administrative fiat. Thus any attempt to construct an electronic bibliographic network in which one description is elevated over others is ill-conceived; and there is similarly no legitimate way to admit into the system only a single attempt to describe ideal copy, any more than one can limit the number of printed bibliographies of a writer or subject, since each involves the interpretation of evidence, and more than one responsible interpretation may exist.

The most satisfactory way of handling the situation is to require that every entry placed in the system be labeled as to whether it is an attempt to record a particular copy or an attempt at a more generalized description based on the examination of multiple copies; it goes without saying that the source of each entry should also be indicated. Then if one wishes, in consulting the system, to see what entries for the socalled ideal copy of a given book exist, one can call up those entries; or if one prefers to begin with, or place principal reliance on, the entry supplied for its copy by a particular library, one can proceed in that fashion. The user would be free to exercise judgment in selecting among the entries offered. In some cases one might wish to see the entry prepared by the library specializing in a given field (for an eighteenth-century American imprint one would want to see how the American Antiquarian Society had handled it); in other cases one might decide to look over all the entries for specific copies in the system, or perhaps only at those entries that attempt to generalize, depending on how reliable

one judges them and their stated sources to be. The crucial point is that users (to say nothing of cataloguers) will know where they stand when every entry is labeled according to what it sets out to do (that is, whether it refers to one copy or to a whole issue) and when all such entries are available for inspection. As the system grows in this way, it will increasingly be able to demonstrate the advantages that computer assistance can offer to bibliographers. Provision will have to be made, of course, for recording many categories of physical data about books,[39] and there will have to be a general understanding that interest in books as physical objects is not limited to early or "rare" books but embraces all books.[40] The ways in which physical data can then be manipulated—to learn the printing characteristics of a particular period, place, or printer, for example—will be far superior to what has been possible in the past. But this vast structure of information will be meaningless if it does not rest on the scrupulous recording of details exactly as they appear in particular copies, with any more generalized descriptions clearly labeled as such.

The same points naturally apply also to work on union catalogues or so-called short-title catalogues, which are the counterparts in printed or card form of the new computer networks. Such works contain entries for specific copies, but they also frequently contain consolidated entries that are meant to stand for a number of supposedly identical entries. The latter kind of entry comprises somewhat more evidence than

an entry based on a single copy, but the extent to which it can be regarded as an entry for an issue as a whole depends on the depth and breadth of the research undertaken. In using the National Union Catalog: Pre-1956 Imprints, for example, one is bound to wish, in certain instances, that the individual entries supplied by different libraries for a given book had been retained, rather than grouping the symbols for those libraries under a single entry. Supposedly, of course, this kind of consolidation was not undertaken except where there were no significant differences among the individual cards; but in some cases one would like to see just how the consolidated entry was arrived at and what the individual entries consisted of. Katharine Pantzer's exemplary revision of the Pollard and Redgrave STC relies at some points on considerably more detailed bibliographical investigation, with the result that discriminations among copies carry much greater authority. Yet the number of titles involved precludes equally detailed treatment of all entries; and the copies grouped together under certain entries might not be so grouped in a full-scale descriptive bibliography based on the textual collation of all known copies. No one expects a short-title catalogue, even one with the high standards Miss Pantzer sets, to be a substitute for descriptive bibliographies of individual writers or books. What one recognizes is that a union catalogue or a short-title catalogue (of the kind that goes beyond the confines of a single collection) occupies a middle ground between a catalogue of single copies and a true bibliography. Falling thus in between two relatively well-defined types of work, it must be careful to define its exact position: the standards for deciding when two copies are to be accorded two separate entries rather than a single entry must be made clear if the user is to know how to interpret a given entry. The eighteenth-century short-title catalogue now in progress faces such an enormous task that the quantity of detail examined for each item cannot be as great as might be feasible for a smaller project. Short-title catalogues can operate—and serve an important function—at various levels of bibliographical detail. But the level at which a given catalogue is to be pitched is a central decision in establishing the catalogue and a central fact to be announced in it. In confronting an entry, the user needs to know what level of discrimination has produced it: one needs to know, in other words, what kinds of differences among copies have not been taken into account, and what kinds therefore may exist among the copies cited within a single entry.

One cannot generally think of the entries in such catalogues as ideal copies, because frequently insufficient detail is provided to distinguish among states; on the other hand, the entries often represent more than one copy and rise above what are deemed to be the peculiarities of those

copies. They are ideal copies of a kind, then, but not up to the standard implied by ideal copy in descriptive bibliography. As an intermediate category, they help to show up the problems with the phrase "ideal copy," because it is awkward to try to conceive of a quasi-ideal or a semi-ideal. A convenient term used in discussions of library cataloguing to refer to features of particular copies is "copy-specific"; when one generalizes on the basis of copy-specific details to produce a description that encompasses the individual copies, the result should logically be something on the order of "issue-specific" rather than "copy-ideal." Such descriptions are in fact generalizations or conclusions about the issue as a whole, based on the evidence of specific details. And the differences among short-title-catalogue entries and bibliographical descriptions rest on two variables that affect the nature of the generalization attempted in a given instance: the level of detail examined in each copy, and the number of copies surveyed. Short-title-catalogue entries by definition are limited in detail, and they may or may not be limited in the number of copies examined; but their function is not, as with bibliographical descriptions, to provide detailed printing and publishing histories. Nevertheless, they are like bibliographical descriptions in going beyond the evidence of single copies: the difference between them is of degree rather than kind. Whether the generic term for what they contain is "generalized description," "standard description," "issue description," or "ideal-copy description" is not of paramount concern. What is important is maintaining a clear distinction between that kind of description and "single-copy" or "specific-copy" description. The distinction between the single unit and the group of which it is a part is basic to all bibliographical and textual research; it must inevitably be pervasive in any endeavor concerned with the physical aspects of books.