Patience and Fortitude: Wherein a Colorful Cast of Determined Book Collectors, Dealers, and Librarians Go About the Quixotic Task of Preserving a Legacy
In his national bestseller, A Gentle Madness, Nicholas Basbanes explored the sweet obsession people feel to possess books. Now, Basbanes continues his adventures among the “gently mad” on an irresistible journey to the great libraries of the past—from Alexandria to Glastonbury—and to contemporary collections at the Vatican, Wolfenbüttel, and erudite universities. Along the way, he drops in on eccentric book dealers and regales us with stories about unforgettable collectors, such as the gentleman who bought a rare book in 1939 “by selling bottles of his own blood.”
Taking the book’s grand title from the marble lions guarding the New York Public Library at 42nd Street, Basbanes both entertains and delights. And once again, as Scott Turow aptly noted, “Basbanes makes you love books, the collections he writes about, and the volume in your hand.”
Nicholas A. Basbanes is an award-winning investigative journalist and was literary editor of the Worcester Sunday Telegram. His articles have appeared in The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, The Washington Post, and Smithsonian, and he is a recipient of a National Endowment for the Humanities Fellowship. Basbanes lives in North Grafton, Massachusetts.
My copy is endorsed to me by the late Rolland Comstock. He and his private library are featured in the book. When I was in college, I got a job working as his private librarian. He had a collection of over 50,000 books - many of them signed first editions - filling a two-story wing of his Springfield, Missouri mansion.
A look at the world of books, bibliographers and bibliomania, from interviews with various book people (collectors, sellers, university presidents) to tours of libraries past and present. It’s a large work (556 pages excluding notes), and wide, perhaps excessively so, in scope. The book lacks anecdotal limits, a sense of pace, cohesion. For example, a solitary, one-paragraph mention of a man who collects Alice In Wonderland material (fine, but if Basbanes couldn’t interview him or get some interesting factoid about him, why mention him?) is followed immediately by a lengthy interview with a man who collects everything from the 18th century, for some reason.
Within these pages are histories of past libraries, statistics on universities, trips to national libraries, biographies of book-sellers, showcases of noted bookstores. There’s only the barest order to and no segues between the interviews and anecdotes; they’re all just here, like a vast collection of magazine articles unrelated except for falling under the wide rubric of “book culture.” This isn’t to say there’s not a lot that’s informative, interesting or even charming here: the trip to Mount Athos, a male-only (not even female tourists allowed) semi- independent monastery in Greece, is fascinating; a story on the Boston library flood has appropriate drama; and a look at less successful stories, such as the San Francisco library that destroyed thousands of books secretly, or the Bibliotheque Nationale’s move to a new building that became a debacle, are always enlightening. Basbanes loves his subject, he can write, and he clearly goes where the stories are. He just could use a good editor.
This book was absolutely amazing, and is a must read for bibliophiles.
Forget "1001 Places to See Before You Die" - all of the places to see should be libraries, and I was thrilled to live vicariously through Basbanes' travels.
Basbanes focuses on every aspect of what is necessary to keep books alive, from private collectors to bookstores to libraries, and everything in between. While I was familiar with most of the bookstores that he referred to, there were a couple that I didn't know, and one I wish he had included but did not: Powell's in Portland.
It's clear that Basbane has a profound love for books and knowledge, and that made this book sheer pleasure to read.
Note: Page 486 has one minor error: "A future innovation in remote storage could involve the use of robotics for retrieval, an approach being developed at a facility operated by the University of California at Northbridge." It's the California State University Northridge, and I'm happy to say that the Automated Storage and Retrieval System (ASRS) was a success! ( http://library.csun.edu/About_the_Lib... )
Patience and Fortitude by Nicholas A. Basbanes is simply a book about books and book lovers. If you are a book lover - and I don’t mean someone who just likes to read, I mean a person who loves books as physical objects. Who loves the look, feel, and smell of paper and binding - then you might be a candidate to appreciate this particular collection of interviews and stories. The character traits named in the title will be necessary for completion, patience and fortitude. The text is 556 pages long plus an additional 80 pages of notes and a wonderful bibliography.
The author interviews scholars discussing handwritten texts of the fourteenth and fifteenth century, artisans who create limited edition books that take years to create and cost thousands, antiquarian book dealers and collectors. He also spends well over one hundred pages describing how the best libraries in the world maintain their collections and how their libraries were designed and built. The book was published in 2001 and the author spends quite a bit of time discussing the coming of the computer and internet age and what it means for traditional paper books. This section I found interesting as it predated the advent of the ebook and how old fashioned books are still being printed and thriving, in a way, 20 years later.
I loved the book and would recommend it to anyone who is interested in the history of the book and book selling. It has also inspired me to visit some of the great libraries of America and the rest of the world. This would be the definition of the nerd vacation.
Had to skip large parts. It's like Basbanes decided to pull together everything he'd ever written about books and libraries and book collectors and compile it. Okay, if it's maybe three or four essays per section, but I don't need to read about 19 different European bookselling families or 12 guys that donated money to build a library and how they did it. This would have been better as several shorter books, but who in god's name would want to read one book about 25 European bookselling families? Glad to be done with this one.
I liked the content of this book, but the way the information is presented is very poor. The author jumps from discussions of one institution or person to another with little more than a double-space to let you know a change in course is taking place. It felt disjointed and abrupt, and did not make for a pleasurable reading experience. The topics that the author covered were interesting, and the sections on book collectors and sellers were particularly fun. Given that the material was good, I wish that the author had done a better job of presenting it to the reader.
I wanted to love this book, but I didn't enjoy it as much as A Gentle Madness. I might have been tired,I might have been busy, I might have been totally burned out on books about books by the time I got to this one, but I just didn't feel the same urgency to finish it coupled with dread it might end that I did with the first book. Still, it was very interesting and -- I mean, it's a book about books. You can't exactly go wrong with those!
Patience & Fortitude is like many of Nicholas Basbanes' works: a bibliophiles dream!
It takes the main theme of his earlier work, A Gentle Madness: who amasses book collections and how they amass them and developes it further. How is knowledge and information amassed and preserved to be passed down through generations? Is all informaton worthy of being preserved? If not, why is the information and knowledge that is selected for preservation chosen?
From the great libraries of the past and present, like that of ancient Alexandria, to the internet, from universities to public libraries and private collections, Basbanes covers the subject thoroughly, and with a deep passion for the subject. Of course Basbanes' love of the written word comes through on every page, and makes the book such a great pleasure for this bookworm to read!
Nicholas Basbanes has definitely become one of my favorite authors.
Oh, the thrill of finally finishing this book! My heart is leaping!! And that is not to imply that I didn't enjoy this book; it is, in fact, a wonderful book. But I spent 8 months dipping in and out, reading 10 or 20 pages here and there between other books and it had begun to feel like a permanent fixture on my coffee table so I finally got on with it. Basbanes travels all over the world to see libraries, collections, book people and anything else that makes the literary world go round. I found some parts especially interesting, such as the history of many of the independent bookstores around Manhattan and the controversy over the San Francisco library. Basbanes has the best job in the world.
(My copy of the book has a different subtitle than the one Goodreads gives: "A roving chronicle of book people, book places, and book culture," which seems much more accurate than the Goodreads version.)
I really loved "A Gentle Madness," but I found its sequel harder going. Especially at the beginning, the book covers pretty standard information about the earliest libraries, which might be of greater interest to those who have never previously encountered it. It's not clear what the author's personal visits to these locations adds to our understanding. There is only so much excitement a reader can feel when reading someone else mentioning the names of the manuscripts and editio princeps he handled.
The book also fell a bit short with profiles of collectors and endowers of libraries, which didn't seem to have much connection with the preceding text.
However, I found the book got steadily more interesting as it discussed issues of modern libraries and in particular the attempt to preserve old texts as well as make them readily accessible. The author gives a good account of the problems of digitization, which are routinely recommended as the solution for all library problems—by people who have never tried it. I can tell you from experience that a book published in 1750 is in much better condition than a digital text created in 1990, which is probably on a medium that can't be read in a format made by defunct software (by a company that no longer exists). Images are not text searchable, and formats made today may not be standard in 100 years. The book also raises interesting questions about just what should be preserved and the tension between completeness and serving the needs of the majority of patrons.
Basbanes doesn't have any easy answers, but his position (although unstated in a reporterly objective manner) is clearly that we would do well to keep hold of our books until such issues are resolved. I would recommend reading Part 3 of the book if you are generally familiar with the history of libraries... probably getting it from your local library.
I love books. I really do. And I love bookstores and libraries and book people in general. So, it makes sense that I would love this book.
Nicholas Basbanes also wrote A Gentle Madness, a book I stumbled upon in my public library a few years ago and fell in love with. So, I picked this one up and read it with glee. It’s over 20 years old and reading it for me was like a trip to my professional past as a librarian. The arguments librarians, their administrators, and the public had decades ago brought back so much angst for me.
I’m happy to say that some of these questions have been settled, sort of. Back then, some people saw the future of libraries in digital materials. They were ready to turn print lose to perish or thrive entirely in the wild. However, most people now realize that the demand for print books isn’t going away soon.
But libraries aren’t the only thing Basbanes discusses in this book. He talks about the people who collect rare books and the people who sell them. I don’t live with the kind of money he’s talking about, so I don’t keep up with the rare book market. But that doesn’t mean I don’t find it captivating as any self-respecting bibliophile would.
I admit to gushing a bit in this review. While reading about all these private, academic, and extensive public book collections was like a fairytale for me. It felt like reading Victoria magazine as a newlywed, setting up housekeeping, and dreaming of the possibilities. While I’ll never have room to store 50,000 volumes in my house, Basbanes has me dreaming of how that would look. And that’s almost as good as actually having it.
Read for eye breaks at work. Dense, thorough, and full of stories about libraries and book collecting before the information age. No reprints, no distractions, but only allowing myself to read it at work led to its becoming quite overdue.
One wonderful story is that of Norbert Pearlroth whose obsessive research at the New York Public Library provided "at least 62,192 facts and anecdotes" for the illustrated newspaper column Ripley's Believe It or Not! (Someone please show the young people that the franchise didn't start with the show or the museums.) It sounds, well, unbelievable, until you learn that he spent EVERY SINGLE DAY at the library for 52 YEARS. A true regular at the desk if there ever was one.
Last, but not least, a quote in defense of physical collections from Annette McNair, "A library is not Barnes & Noble, and it is not a Blockbuster video. The uniqueness of a library is the joy of discovery. You go in and you find something that will be nowhere else that is open to the public. You find material that you were never even looking for."
Bibliophiles and library lovers, this book is certainly for you.
I am very much impressed with Basbanes's knowledge and writing about books. The author has done such marvelous research that kept in awe of how little I knew about libraries and books. The theme is rich of not about the physical books only, but it goes beyond it such as its history, book lovers who are not collecting books per se, but also the story or journey of the books themselves which carry huge values. Then it follows with a 'drama' of the existence of books and libraries all around the world.
This is a book for people who love books and other instruments of sharing information. People who love knowledge and the desire to learn. People who love libraries and bookstores. Many of the other reviews cover the depth of Patience and Fortitude. Reading this trove compelled personal introspection on three generations of our family book collection. We have tongue-in-cheek referred to our personal collection of Presidential, Military and Commodity history as a "library". But now I see the collections in a different light. Thank you, this book was a delight.
This took me several years to read, but once I finally committed to reading it, I found it very interesting, if dense. Each chapter focuses on a different aspect of book culture, from collectors of antiquities to library design. As a bibliophile, I enjoyed learning more about these various facets of the literary world.
If you are interested by the story and stories of preserving wisdom and literature through books and libraries, then you'll love this. However, it gets rather boring. The same thing over and over again. And it's very Western-focused.
Dated...boring, but interesting facts strewn about. There was no narrative flow, rhyme or reason to how this book is arranged...even paragraph to paragraph. It was a litany of interviews about bookish people and their bookish lives.
All together I read maybe half the book. Mostly from the second section on book collectors and the third about the New York and San Francisco public libraries.
A whole lot of book about books, book peoples and book places. Even though there have been changes regarding some of the contents, a great read, particularly after Part One: Overture.
Fascinating look at libraries, and the people who design them, stock them, run them, and figure out how to keep them healthy and relevant in today's internet age.
As with Gentle Madness, this is a book that I read when it came out and have been rereading. It has a lot of engaging stories about book places and people. Not least of its appeal is nostalgia. I remember visiting the chaotic Serendipity Books in Berkeley in the mid 90s and Basbanes' description is pretty much in line with my recollections. The section on libraries is less enjoyable, including the Ken Dowlin debacle in San Francisco and other examples of contemporary librarians' ongoing war on books and scholarship.
The author admits in his introduction that book is a continuation of the stories told his book, "A Gentle Madness...". So we have more tales of book sellers, book collector, book hoarders and book finders and the libraries where many meet their end journey. He has a few chapters on the electronic age and its effect on libraries in particular. For someone interested in the subject the volume makes fascinating reading.
Magnificent book, the second on Basbanes's wonderful trilogy of books-about-books and book people and book culture (start with A GENTLE MADNESS). This focuses on book places, like libraries (including challenges like storage and the shift to digital materials), and on booksellers. Loaded with wonderful anecdotes and stories from the front-lines of the book trade. Indispensible for people who love books.
It's a really good book about books, but you absolutely have to be a bibliophile to appreciate it all. Unfortunately I thought it really dragged during the second act, about booksellers; the final part about libraries was more interesting, but nothing was really as cool as the development of the written word and writing history at the beginning.
I did not love it as much as the first book, but it was still a fascinating read about libraries, book collections, storage, and preservation methods. I am less interested in the storage of books and varying opinions on how to acquire and preserve new and old information in an increasingly technological world. This ultimately made the book somewhat less interesting for me to read.
"Patience and Fortitude," are literally required to finish this book. What a horrible bore, even for the young bookseller. Interesting only if you care about library shelving methods, which the book devotes much time. Gross.