Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: bookbinding (Page 98 of 99)

Java the hut.

When I hear the phrase ‘Homeland Security’ I think of the hardhat commercial with the Morgan Freeman voiceover imploring us to get Red Dirt Ready. There probably should be more memorable associations, like those color-coded alerts, which brought our awareness front and center to do – who knew what?

Yesterday, I was advised by Homeland Security to disable Java on my computer.

Whoa!

Little terrorists slipping in through that Cup O’ Joe icon? National security threat, right here on my laptop? What gives? It’s GOOGLE TIME!

Turns out, I’m not the only one with some questions about the perceived vulnerability and the consequences of NOT disabling Java. Some bloggers were downright frantic. One fellow related the account of his exploration for information, from Java, from Oracle (which owns Java), and others – first searching for information and then for instructions on how to disable the browser plug-in.

Like anyone else, I worry (a little – I’m not sitting here in the dark wringing my hands or anything) about collecting a computer virus or Trojan or malware application. I also worry about people telling me I need to quit something that I have (apparently) used for some time.

Here is the decider.

Every morning when I fire up the laptop, I get a popup advisory that some program is trying to connect to the internet and – Will I give it permission? No. I won’t. It is Java, every morning. Every morning. Why is Java trying to connect to the internet? It has an update available, it tells me. Now, explain this: If Java cannot connect to the internet without my permission, and I have not granted it permission, then how does Java know it has a handy and necessary update waiting for me?

Something fishy there.

At any rate, the whole click-the-X-to-close-the-box, the daily denial of permission for Java to access the internet (will my harddrive eventually be filled with scads of Java files from the eternal updates?), and the underlying question – why do I need Java anyway? – all combined to prompt me to delete the program on all three computers on my little network. Boom. Outta here.

Right away, I’m clicking like crazy on the Yahoo home page trying to scroll through the top news stories in their slideshow format. Oops. That must have been done in Java. Click click. No more scrolling stories. Dratted national security, anyway.

Another forty-five minutes or so became dedicated to cleanup of other programs – deleting the files for the two scanners I haven’t had connected in years, among others. Those HP files are so big I had time to dry mop the entire store, wait on a fellow who popped in (“I’m not a reader,” he said, “but I’m going to start.” He left without buying a book and I resisted the urge to point out that his reading start would be achieved more easily with a book in hand…) – I even had time to sweep off the leaves from the front sidewalk – before the HP files were removed.

I am Java free, on all three. As I post this blog, I notice that none of my little control buttons are present any longer. More Java, I suppose. They were such handy little buttons. I now feel as though I’m going into Java withdrawal.

Whether or not I remain that way depends, of course, on whether the National Nervousness can be contained, the software cyberattacks can be avoided, and the need for a Yahoo news scroller can continued to be surpressed.

Until then, I can lean back with my cup o’ Joe and know I’ve done my part to make this grand country of ours a safer place to live.

Whew. What a day.

Atala what I’m gonna do…

It’s a little book and a little story as well. Not really long enough to be called a novel, the early work of Frenchman Francois-Rene de Chateaubriand had a basis in his travels in North America and his observations of the Native nations.

The volume in the image was recently rebound, and although the picture I selected for a front cover “paste down” illustration depicts a scene from the novella Atala, there are actually four stories in the book.

Originally written in 1801, the story had a significant impact on Romanticism and was adapted as a stage play as well as translated into several languages.

There are plenty of local interest facets: the story has its origins in a Seminole tale that survived by oral tradition. The narrator in the story lost his father in a battle with the Muscogee Nation, and the Cherokees also come into play later. Written well before the establishment of Indian Territory that became Oklahoma, the Native nations in Atala are still located in the South and Southeast.

Current reprints of the story contain a preface that explains that the author was in truth denouncing the idea of a “noble savage” – a literary device used in a number of works of that era. Such a character would possess attributes considered acceptable to “civilized” men, even though they came from an indigenous group that would have been disparaged at the time. His sympathetic depiction of two Native Americans was met with criticism by many of his early-19th-Century.

The issues of race and literature have changed somewhat in the last 211 years (195 years since this edition was published…) but in some respects the theme is as timely now as it was then – considering others for their merits rather than their race or religion.

This edition is somewhat scarce. A UK bookseller is offering one for £50 (roughly $80 US) and a single US vendor has a leather-bound copy listed for $70. The World Catalog shows six copies in libraries across the United States and ironically, five of the six are in locations with geographic ties to the one I just rebound. There are two in Texas, one at the University of Oklahoma, another at Kansas State University, and a fifth copy in Nebraska. The sixth listed volume is at the University of Mississippi. There are bound to be copies in private collections, but still, it is one of only a couple of hands-full still in existence.

I was happy to give it a cover that makes it presentable again and may last for another 200 years. (I’m glad I discovered what a scarce book it is – after the repairs were completed!)

Glue and paper and patience.

Well! These books are back together! The book doctor is pleased to report the patients have come through surgery with no ill-effects.

Anyone who saw the shelves in the old store could easily see that I’m no carpenter. The inventory was displayed just fine, but the bookcases were nothing to look at, I’ll admit. Most of my life I’ve constructed things with words rather than my hands. Maybe that’s why I feel proud at finishing this sort of project.

There are a few nervous moments for me, repairing books like these. Both date almost to the colonial era. I’d hate for them to have survived so long just to have me ruin them. Of course, the other side of their age and survival is they both appeared to have been dragged behind covered wagons to end up in Broken Arrow.

At this point, I’ve had a little more experience doctorin’ books than building bookcases but still consider myself a mere “practical” bookbinder. The leather and marbled paper book in the picture is as close as I get to fine binding. Those folks doing the gilt inlays and embossed stamping are out of my league.

The book in the image with the black-colored spine was published in MDCCXCII – or 1792 for the non-Roman-numeral readers among us. (I looked it up to be certain…) You can click on any of the images for a bigger view of the type of printing that was produced two hundred years ago. Both have that antique flavor, being old enough to have been in the hands of our country’s founding fathers.

The larger of the two books was in such sad shape that it lacked the original materials covering the front and back.

I was able to re-use the boards, which were sort of odd shaped and round-cornered from years of handling. Even recovered they remain somewhat out-of-square, but I am pleased at the way the leather and marbled paper turned out.

The leather at the spine and corners was taken from a hide purchased from a fine-leather dealer in Tulsa. The marbled paper came from Israel, where an artisan makes each sheet individually. It’s an art form that has been saved, thankfully, but the sheets are somewhat pricey compared to stock paper.

When I was prepping the book, I could see the old twine cords that the original binder used to attach the front and back covers to the pages. His old linen stitching holding the book block together was pretty much intact. (A volume I’m working on currently had to be hand-sewn back together…)

The smaller book did not have a cover at all. I had to custom fit some boards to the pages and attached a cloth binding rather than leather and paper. It’s an early, early novella called Atala that was first published in 1801. The author, François-René de Chateaubriand, was inspired by his travels to North America. The little book is an 1817 translation that was published in London. Somehow, hand-sized volume found its way to what was Indian Territory and wilderness, back then.

Next time, I’ll try to remember to take a picture to show the state of the book when it comes in for the doctor’s visit. As for these two, I won’t profess them to be good as new, but with a little care they should hold up for another hundred years or so.

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