National Histories of the Book in the Twenty-First Century

Past academic answers to this question have often been about national identity and cultural certainties, and not necessarily focused on print, but rather on books and the written word. They invoke literary touchstones (Chaucer as Anglo-Saxon England’s national bard; Robert Burns as Scotland’s poetic treasure); or commemorate key texts in nation building (the Declaration of Arbroath, a statement of proud independence written by Scots nobles in defiance of King Edward I in 1320; the U.S. Declaration of Independence of 1776); or make claims for national uniqueness of theme, language or cultural viewpoint (Miguel de Cervantes’s Don Quixote, published in 1605, a key work in modern Spanish literature, though equally acclaimed as a world classic). Equally some answer this question by talking up a nation’s contribution to technology and the printing industry that allowed the printed word to flourish across national borders (German Johannes Gutenberg’s printing press developed around 1440, the French designed Fourdrinier papermaking machine of 1799, the publishing giants Harper and Row (U.S.) and William Collins (Scotland), founded in the 1800s but in the twentieth century entwined together in the globally dominant media conglomerate HarperCollins).

More recently, book history researchers have been drawing on more sophisticated models for answers to the above question. Interdisciplinarity is the key, drawing on empirical groundings in history, statistical and economic strategies from social science research, textual and analytical tools from literature and bibliography, and mixing with a dash of spice from social history and studies of the history of communication. In particular, the history of the twentieth-century book, whose fortunes in the latters years of the century have been so bound up in global change and multi-national conglomeration, makes those in the field more aware of the transnational nature of books and prints. As Marshall McLuhan presciently noted, the twentieth century witnessed a seismic shift from ‘when business was our culture to one in which culture is our business.’ The impact of such a shift has been felt in particular by former British colonies such as Canada and Australia, whose late starts in developing their own print culture and book industries, frameworks and structures, and a continued dependence on imported material, made many anxious about the ability of locally based publishing to foster national identity and cultural uniqueness.

Over the past eight years, various book history initiatives to map these questions in national contexts have begun to publish their findings, taking as their inspiration the groundbreaking, four volume French history of the book produced between 1982 and 1986, L’Histoire de L’Edition Francaise (Vol. 1; Vol. 2; Vol. 3; Vol. 4). The History of the Book in Canada has been the only one so far in the English speaking world to produce a complete set of accounts, three large tomes issued between 2004 and 2007 (Vol 1: Beginnings to 1840; Vol. 2: 1840-1918; Vol. 3: 1918-1980). The History of the Book in America has released two volumes of a projected series of five: Vol 1: The Colonial Book in the Atlantic World and Vol. 3: The Industrial Book, 1840-1880. The History of the Book in Australia has completed two out of three (Vol. 2: 1890-1945 and Vol. 3: Paper Empires). The Cambridge History of the Book in Britain has issued two (Vol. 3: 1400-1557 and Vol. 4, 1557-1695), with a third (Vol. 2: 1100-1400) projected for Feb. 2008. Single volume exploratory studies have also been published covering Welsh and New Zealand print culture history. The Edinburgh History of the Book in Scotland now joins the list of national histories with two volumes just released charting the past two hundred years of Scottish book and print history (Vol 3: Ambition and Industry, 1800-1880; Vol. 4: Professionalism and Diversity, 1880-2000), and with two more to come covering earlier ground.

Such projects invariably touch on similar themes and concerns. They tell the story of how books and print culture spread across geographical spaces (vast and small, physical and mental). They also consider how print fits into larger cultural contexts; how it forms part of social communication systems. Before print there was oral and pictographic systems of cultural transmission. Central to many of the narratives published to date is the story of the collision and accommodation between cultures focused on oral transmission and those steeped in written traditions: the fate of the indigenous peoples conquered by European settlers and colonisers, or the maintenance of Gaelic and Maori oral traditions in Scotland and New Zealand respectively. National histories of the book tell equally of the development and use of print for didactic, political and religious purposes, and the celebration of iconic literary figures as a way of creating shared national identity. The patterns of cultural collision, resistance, assimilation and print culture development that are part of nation building exercises are common to all these volumes issued to date. Indeed, it so common it would suggest that the next step in book history studies should be aimed at producing transnational histories of book culture.

A quick glance at the history of the book in Scotland as told in these recently published volumes suggests that Scotland’s story is certainly one that cannot be told in isolation from global contexts. Scottish publishers, for example, dominated foreign markets throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth century in areas such as education, theology and cheap fiction. From the 1880s through to the 1950s, some of the most lucrative areas of book distribution for Scots and English publishers were the overseas colonial markets of Canada, Australia, New Zealand and India. The increasing importance of the colonial market to British publishers led, for example, to the founding of the British Publishers’ Association in 1896. (One of its main aims was to work to protect publishing interests in the ‘colonial fiction’ market.) By 1900, seventeen British based publishers were running ‘colonial’ series of cheap reprints destined for overseas bookshops, and sixty percent of all exported books were being sold to British possessions. And between 1889 and 1953, Australia was the largest market for British book exports of books, until their market was opened up to competition from the United States.

What such details tell us is that the story of books and print in the English speaking world is a rich tale of intertwined fortunes, cultural linkages, economic strengths and technological innovations. The nineteenth-century poet Thomas Campbell once declared that publishers were no better than ravens feasting on their victims. The new book history would tell him otherwise.

David Finkelstein