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I
When Fredson Bowers in 1945 returned from his wartime naval service to resume his position in the English department at the University of Virginia, he was eager to continue the bibliographical work that he had only just entered into before the war. As matters turned out, by the end of the 1940s he was responsible for two of the landmark events of twentieth-century bibliographical history: the appearance in late December 1948 of the first volume of Studies in Bibliography and the publication a year later of his Principles of Bibliographical Description. These were epochal events because they can be seen, in retrospect, to have affected the course of bibliographical history in a profound way. Studies quickly became one of the major bibliographical journals in the English-speaking world and arguably has been the single most influential one in the second half of the twentieth century; the Principles brought order into the field of descriptive bibliography by offering the first detailed codification of its methodology, and the book--from the moment of its publication--has been the standard guide to the subject.
The two events are linked by their common origin in Bowers's own research, primarily his investigations into the printing history of Dekker's plays in preparation for a new scholarly edition of Dekker (a project
To him, it was not enough to embark on a major descriptive bibliography; he first had to systematize the whole field and offer instruction in it through a volume of Principles. Similarly, Studies results from his desire to be personally responsible for encouraging bibliographical work, especially the analysis of physical evidence as a tool for editors. The strength of his urge to be an authority on bibliographical analysis was no doubt formed, at least in part, by the criticisms that attended his first two bibliographical publications--his 1936 and 1937 articles on Dekker in The Library. In both cases his analysis was seriously in error, and in each instance a prominent scholar (Greg the first time, James G. McManaway the second) exposed his erroneous thinking in a later number of The Library. The importance of these rebukes for his bibliographical education cannot be overestimated. His determination to redeem himself produced, almost immediately, an article for The Library on running-title analysis, the very subject in which McManaway had found his knowledge wanting; but he had time for only one more such article before his wartime service, and after that enforced interruption he was undoubtedly all the more impatient to establish his authority in analytical bibliography. One could not argue that a new bibliographical journal was particularly needed at that time, with The Library and the Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America receptive to all kinds of bibliographical research. But Bowers, having been forcefully convinced of the powerful results that could come from bibliographical analysis, began to take on the role of proselytizer for the field; and a journal would give him greater effectiveness in persuading scholars to produce more bibliographical articles.
That his own university should be known as a center of bibliographical and textual study was a natural element in his program, and he was involved in the formation, early in 1947, of a Bibliographical Society of the University of Virginia, the story of which has now been told by
The volume that appeared in the final days of 1948, printed in December at the William Byrd Press of Richmond, Virginia, in an edition of one thousand copies, contained 209 text-pages bound in heavy cream paper (with flaps folded over, and pasted to, the first and last leaves of the sewn gatherings). An unusually detailed colophon, even specifying the names of the compositors and pressmen, was suggestive of the care that had gone into planning the design; it was also appropriate for a volume whose contents were concerned with the processes of book production in the past:
There was an elegance, even a leisurely spatial extravagance, conveyed by the design--beginning with the cover title, in its flowery frame (see Figure 5), and the heft of the book-block, 3/4" thick, with many deckle fore-edges, and continuing with the well-leaded text-pages of Goudy's Monotype Garamont, surrounded by generous margins, and the coated-paper plates. Some readers of the prospectus may have wondered, when looking at the sample article-opening, why the two-inch display of the title of the first article did not include the author's name; with the volume in hand, they would have seen the reason--each article also had its own divisional title leaf, with the title and author's name on the recto in the same frame as that used on the front cover and with "The Bibliographical Society" at the top and "University of Virginia" at the foot. (See Figure 6.)
If the physical appearance of the Papers was far removed from the utilitarian typography and layout of many scholarly journals, there was no question about the scholarly nature--indeed, distinction--of the contents, which in fact set the pattern for the succeeding volumes. The contributions were divided into two groups, the eleven articles first, followed by a section of six short "Bibliographical Notes." The pieces ranged widely in subject, from the medieval to the Victorian, and represented various kinds of bibliographical work, including manuscript investigation, publishing history, textual criticism, and the analysis of physical evidence in printed books. It was clear (even without an editorial statement) that Bowers conceived of the journal as one that encompassed all bibliographical study, with no restriction as to the geographical origins or periods or genres of the material examined. The roster of contributors also presaged future volumes in its mixture of well- established bibliographical scholars (for example, Curt F. Bühler of the Morgan Library and James G. McManaway of the Folger), little-known assistant professors (such as C. William Miller of Temple and Allan H. Stevenson of the Illinois Institute of Technology), and graduate students (such as Guy A. Battle of Duke). It was natural in the initial volume to draw on local talent, and the parochial nature of the resulting list of contributors is the only way in which the contents of this volume appear uncharacteristic in retrospect. Ten of the seventeen contributors had present or past connections with the University of Virginia--one full Professor (Joseph M. Carrière of the French department), one Associate Professor (Bowers himself), one Assistant Professor (George B. Pace), five of Bowers's graduate students (Mary Virginia Bowman, Jessie Ryon Lucke, James S. Steck, George Walton Williams, and Philip Williams), and two alumni (McManaway and Miller).
An important advantage to Bowers in calling on his graduate students was that he could thereby publicize the kind of bibliographical analysis he was encouraging and could send a signal to potential contributors that the journal was especially interested in such work. He published Philip Williams's analysis of compositorial spelling habits in the "Pied Bull" Lear, James Steck's explanation of the usefulness of center rules as bibliographical evidence, and his own note on the role of headline evidence in determining half-sheet imposition. He was also able to include four other forward-looking analytical pieces from outside his university: Battle's note on progressive changes in boxlines, Bühler's experiment in applying headline analysis to incunabula, Giles E. Dawson's identification of eighteenth- century piracies through an arsenal of techniques that included press figures, and--most important of all--the first of Stevenson's brilliant and pioneering expositions of the uses of paper
Just after the first volume appeared, Linton Massey wrote his presidential report (dated 15 January 1949) on the Society's activities for 1948, and he devoted most of one paragraph to the volume:
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