The Book on the Bookshelf

Most of us take for granted that our books are vertical on our shelves with the spines facing out, but Henry Petroski, inveterately curious engineer, didn't. As a result, readers are guided along the astonishing evolution from papyrus scrolls boxed at Alexandria to upright books shelved at the Library of Congress. Unimpeachably researched, enviably written, and charmed with anecdotes from Seneca to Samuel Pepys to a nineteenth-century bibliophile who had to climb over his books to get into bed, The Book on the Bookshelf is indispensable for anyone who loves books.

Quite a few years ago, I learned of a book about pencils. I thought it was silly, so I passed it by without a second thought—that is until now. The author of The Pencil has now written a book about bookshelves. Boring you say? I wondered about that, too, but from the first page I was trapped. Henry Petroski is the author of The Book on the Book Shelf. It turns out he also authored a staggeringly long paean to the humble pencil. Need I mention a copy of The Pencil arrived while I was writing this review?

The Book on the Book Shelf is an interesting look at the evolution of book shelves from Alexandria all the way to modern libraries with all sorts of digital tools and equipment to keep track of, sort, and shelve tens of thousands of show more books. I must admit I was incredulous that such a book existed, or would be widely read, yet, I secretly yearned to find out what it is all about. This may not seem exciting, but the first page put me on a thrilling ride through history. I have said this before about trees, and I gleefully repeat myself, I will never again look at my bookshelves as mere furniture. As Petroski writes, “One evening, while reading in my study, I looked up from my book and saw my bookshelves in a new and different light. Instead of being just places on which to store books, the shelves themselves intrigued me as artifacts in their own right” (ix). This is the first sentence of the preface, and I immediately closed the book, and looked at my shelves. I realized each had a story to tell, and each held remembrances of all the decades we had spent together.

Petroski tells us “over 50,000 books are published each year in America alone” (5). I wish I didn’t know this fact. Now I will never catch up! Every time I visit friends or family, I find time to slip away and examine their shelves. I believe a lot can be learned by examining a library. One time, to my horror, I visited a “friend-of-a-friend’s house and could not find a single book—except for some cookbooks in the kitchen. I was stunned! How awful that must be to live without books. I believe it was Cicero who wrote, “A room without books is like a body without a soul.” Petroski writes, “The bookshelf, like the book, has become an integral part of civilization as we know it, its presence in a home practically defining what it means to be civilized, educated, and refined. Indeed, the presence of bookshelves greatly influences our behavior” (4). I must admit I take on a reverential calm when I am among my books or merely walking down the hall.

Petroski has chapters on scrolls and manuscripts, printing and binding, and of course stories of the medieval monks bent over an illuminated manuscript. He explains how books became chained to the library tables. He also includes dozens of intriguing drawings of medieval scholars reading at desks with a variety of solutions to storing books in the background.

I think Henry Petroski has tapped a much ignored vein, which, once let loose, will start a renewed interest in bookshelves as much more than mere furniture. The Book on the Book Shelf belongs in every library along with Anglo-American Cataloguing Rules, Sears Subject Headings, and an O.E.D. 5 stars.

--Jim, 3/30/17 show less

Overall, I really enjoyed this book. It's definitely a niche topic, in that the book talks about the history of bookshelves and book storage. However, the author's writing style is very engaging, which does a lot in maintaining interest. In addition to a broader history of bookshelves and their relation to the history of books, Petroski incorporates a fair amount of his personal experiences into the book, which adds a personal touch. Definitely recommend.

A fascinating history of the book and book furniture which begins by asking where bookshelves came from. Petroski's answer begins with the ancient Romans and explores how developments in one piece of technology (the book) influenced and necessitated developments in another (book furniture, or methods of book storage). Petroski's clear and enthusiastic writing made this a page-turner (with the possible exception of two chapters near the end in which the mechanics of bookshelves in the 20th century began to lose me a bit, possibly because they seem too familiar, especially compared to the uncanny workings of the older furniture), and I strongly recommend the book to anyone interested in the history of the book or the history of things.

Erudite and meticulously researched, The Book on the Bookshelf is also ungodly repetitive and so, often boring.

I read carefully through opening chapters, got captivated by St. Jerome, then read mostly captions of the many fascinating illustrations and
was surprised not to see John Muir's book invention included.

His search for "the perfect bookend" could end with my Grandmother Bell - she crocheted a beautiful rectangle around a brick.

A pleasant surprise: "popular histories," especially when they deal with relatively specialised subjects, are often inane in subject-matter and pedestrian in style, but this one is intelligent, scholarly, and generally pretty readable. Of course, Petroski, with his historian's hat on, covers a lot of material that we as book-lovers are already likely to be familiar with, but he's still enough of an engineer to pose interesting, practical questions and make us look at the things we thought we knew in a new light.

Unlike many texts of this kind, he's careful not to generalise too much from his examples, and there are proper references and a bibliography, so you can follow up anything that looks particularly interesting. You will need to show more do some reference-chasing if you want to reproduce any of the book-storage systems he describes in your own library, as his editors evidently wouldn't let him put in any detailed scale plans or anything more than the most general dimensions. Probably just as well: I doubt if I could really fit Trinity College library into my living room...

As several others have pointed out, Petroski does have a tendency to repeat himself and to regale us with dullish anecdotes about his own adventures in libraries, but unless you read the whole thing through at a sitting, these foibles of age aren't really going to spoil your enjoyment of the book. Probably something to borrow rather than buy, but well worth dipping into. show less

Petroski’s writing on such a quotidian subject is fortunately both inviting and poetic. You can tell he shares a remarkable affinity for the furniture (even when many around him do not). The history itself is much what one would expect. In the beginning, bookshelves were few and weirdly arranged, and now they are efficient and versatile. Since shelving technology progressed in a rather straightforward manner, Petroski also delves into the history of the book itself as well as bookshops, bookbinders, and mini-biographies of the inventors of the many types of shelving units (even a bit on Melvil Dewey himself!). My main problem with the book is that there is no mention of Eastern bookshelving. China invented paper before Western Europe show more (and also won the moveable metal type race), but no mention is made of Asian book-shelving technology. This seems to be a pitfall of many history books (not just Petroski’s), but it’s irksome just the same. All in all, it was a great book (if you’re into this sort of thing).

http://lifelongdewey.wordpress.com/2012/06/04/022-the-book-on-the-bookshelf-by-h... show less