NYPL Blogs: Posts from the Rare Books Division

Winter Fun for Kids and Cats

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Sat, 29 Dec 2012 09:19:44 -0500

This snowy Saturday afternoon has brought to mind a couple of scenes from nineteenth-century children's books in the Rare Book Division. First, a scene of "Wintervergnügen" (winter fun) from Jugendspiele zur Erholung und Erheiterung (Tilsit, 1846). This is a two-volume work, one devoted to girls and one to boys. Sledding is categorized as one of the boys' games (Knabenspiele), but of course that needn't stop ladies of all ages from joining in.

And next — since it is Caturday after all — here's a cat hunting on a wintry day. This wood engraving is from Noch funfzig Fabeln für Kinder (Hamburg, 1837), a book of illustrated fables for children.

Enjoy these snowy last days of 2012 as much as these children and this cat. Happy new year!

What to Draw? A Turkey, of Course

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Wed, 21 Nov 2012 07:40:20 -0500

Happy Thanksgiving to you! In honor of the holiday, here's a page from one of my favorite drawing manuals in the collection, 1913's What to Draw and How to Draw It by E. G. Lutz.

This turkey (along with his tiny companion, the fantail pigeon) is just one of dozens of possibilities — like owls, elephants, pelicans, pigs, castles, cats, and men and ladies — you'll find in these pages. Want to see the entire book? It's been digitized and you can view it here. It seems to hold real potential for distracting and entertaining houseguests of all ages this weekend, so do let me know if you end up sketching any masterpieces yourselves.

Rare Books: Machinae Novae of 1595

Kyle R. Triplett, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Fri, 18 May 2012 11:54:19 -0400

We often get asked about firsts in printing history in the Rare Book Division. Machinae novae Favsti Verantii siceni (Venice, 1595) known as Machinae Novae, or New Machines, contains some of the first printed images related to engineering and machinery.

Machinae Novae was written by scholar-diplomat and scientist Fausto Veranzio in Venice; only a few copies of this 1595 edition are known to exist. Some of the depictions featured in this work point to new innovations in suspension bridges and agricultural equipment.

The book also includes the first depiction of the parachute, based on designs by Leonardo Da Vinci. Veranzio is reported to have personally attempted a test of this early parachute later in his life; unfortunately, we do not know how successful this initial jump may have been.

Early depictions of machines played an essential role in disseminating scientific information. In the case of Machinae Novae, these images were created using copper plate engravings, a process that was heavily utilized at the time. Copper plate engraving was invented in Germany in the 1430s; by the 1590s, it had largely superseded woodcut illustration as the preferred method of creating finely detailed book illustrations. For an understanding of how copper plate engravings (and other types of book illustrations) are created, take a look at this video from the print shop of the Rhode Island School of Design.

For more books on early depictions of machines at NYPL, check out the subject heading: Machines--Early works to 1800.

Made of Corn But Not Quite Edible

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 08:43:19 -0400

George M. Rommel, an early twentieth century animal husbandman and farm expert, was not one to shy away from novel solutions to agricultural challenges in America. In 1905, he championed the import from Bermuda of a breed of “woolless” sheep to address America’s “alarming appetite for lamb” (Philadelphia Inquirer, 2/5/1905). And he was always on the lookout for potential new uses for leftovers from agricultural enterprises. It should not, therefore, come as a surprise that his book on agricultural refuse industries, Farm Products in Industry, was printed on paper made from cornstalks and bound with boards made from cottonseed hulls.

Published by the Rae D. Henkle Company in 1928, Farm Products in Industry was the result of Rommel’s extensive survey of possible ways to conserve agricultural resources as well as provide relief for farmers. The volume itself, made of corn and cottonseed refuse, is a monument to the possibilities of using agricultural waste in bookmaking. Cornstalks were just piling up and in need of a makeover, apparently. Just in Iowa and Illinois, Rommel estimated, the “unused parts of the corn plant... amount to 8,000,000 bone-dry tons” annually. I examined the copy of Rommel's book held by the Rare Book Division, and its pages are clean, sound, and in perfect condition, 84 years later.

From my admittedly inexpert reading of some scientific papermaking reports, it seems that many challenges (of chemistry, of fibers, of equipment, and more) stood in the way of creating a large-scale cornstalk paper industry in the early twentieth century. Nevertheless, the topic is of perennial interest. A corn-based toilet tissue won the 2009 Indiana Student Corn Innovation Contest just three years ago. And in the Philippines, plans were announced just a few months ago to build a papermaking plant that will make use of the surrounding cornstalk-filled countryside.

Farm Products in Industry might not quite be an edible book, but I still think it’s worth considering during this month when we celebrate such things.

Iceland Moss and Charles Dickens

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:38:31 -0400

Thanks to bibliophile George Arents, the Rare Book Division's holdings include an extensive collection of nineteenth century books in parts, and they are fascinating artifacts of their time. Little did I know, however, that I'd learn about a healthful and tasty lichen drink while reading one.

Sarah Augusta Dickson, the first curator of the George Arents Collection, defined this particular form of serial fiction as "published piecemeal over a period of time, each unit having its separate cover, usually paper or boards, and in many cases with the title-page and other preliminary matter for the volume or volumes at the end of the last part." A nineteenth century reader of books in parts would purchase a new part in the series perhaps once a month, and at the novel's end would be able to take the entire stack of parts, with their inserted supplemental pages like illustrative plates and title page, to be bound together into a standalone novel.

Dickens famously published his work in parts, and recently I had the opportunity to study Our Mutual Friend (pictured above), published in monthly installments from May 1864 to November 1865. It's often the pages found at the beginning and end of each part that are most interesting to readers and scholars. These pages include ads for household products, fashion, foods, remedies, and other books promoted by the publisher. And the advertisement that caught my eye in Our Mutual Friend was this one, for Fry's Iceland Moss Cocoa.

A lichen, Iceland moss was once commonly used to treat pulmonary difficulties, inflammation, and digestive ailments. It was usually prepared by boiling and steeping before drinking, and chocolate and sugar were popular additions to the mixture to make it taste better. Today, you might find it in toothpaste, as a baking ingredient in a dried and ground version, and — just as in Dickens's time — in hot drinks made to treat colds and coughs. This particular advertisement appears only once in our series, in part one, although other Fry & Sons advertisements appear later, promoting other cocoa concoctions.

If you want to learn more about the world of Our Mutual Friend, I recommend visiting the University of Santa Cruz's Dickens Project, where you'll find information and images covering nineteenth century London, Dickens as a writer, the advertisements like the one above, illustrations of the novel, and more.

The Pompadour's Book: A Mystery Manuscript Owned by Madame de Pompadour

Thu, 15 Mar 2012 06:48:41 -0400

It's a small volume, neatly but unostentatiously bound in mottled calf. The gilt ornamentation is discreet, except for an impressive coat of arms on both boards. That becomes even more impressive when we identify it as the blazon of one of the standout personalities of 18th-century France, Jeanne Antoinette Poisson, marquise de Pompadour — elevated from her haute-bourgeois background and a boring union with a certain M. Lenormand d'Étioles (nephew of her mother's lover) to become the official maîtresse-en-titre to King Louis XV, who ennobled her under the ancient (but extinct) title of Pompadour.

The brothers Goncourt wrote of young Mlle. Poisson/Mme. d'Étioles as she was when she burst onto the French social scene in the 1740s:

"Marvellous aptitude, a rare and learned education, had given this young woman all the gifts and graces which made of a woman what the eighteenth century called a virtuosa, an accomplished model of the seductions of her sex... All the talents of grace seemed to meet in her. No woman was a better rider; none could dance more lightly; none more quick to excite applause with the notes of her voice or the strains of an instrument ... There was no one, again, who could tell a story in a more piquant way. And where others might compete with her in the field of coquetry, she took the palm over all by her genius of dress, by the turn she gave to a bow, the air she gave to the nothing which adorned her, the signature that her taste set upon all that she wore. ...

"To please and charm, Mademoiselle Poisson had again her face, a complexion of the most extreme whiteness, lips somewhat pale, but eyes with the vivacity of fire, glances which seemed of flame, and which veiled in lightning the languid air of her lymphatic nature ... Again she had her magnificent chestnut hair, ravishing teeth, and the most delicious smile ... her figure, rounded but not large, curved admirably, her perfect hands, the play of gesture from all her vivacious, passionate body, and, above all, a mobile, varying physiognomy, marvelously animated, which the soul of the woman ceaselessly moved, and which, with incessant renewals, displayed turn by turn a moved or imperious tenderness, noble seriousness, or wanton graces."

It's no wonder the King was bewitched. Pompadour would remain his Number One Mistress from 1745 until the day she died, aged just 42, in 1764. In this role, she occupied one of the few positions of power available to women of her era. Her influence reached beyond the King's bedchamber to ...

Matters of state and of might,
Things that great ministers do...

...as the Victorian poet Austin Dobson would write in a ballade about a pretty trinket of hers, "On a Fan,"

She was also a friend and patroness of Voltaire's, which explains why the Rare Book Division of The New York Public Library acquired the volume we're discussing here. The Rare Book Division has a large collection of Voltaireana, the Martin J. Gross Collection, acquired during the administration of the former Library president, noted Voltaire scholar Paul LeClerc. (Browse the collection here.)

La Pompadour counted acting upon the stage among her plethora of accomplishments, and to please and amuse the King and herself, she installed a small but fully-equipped theater at Versailles. One of the roles she performed, on December 30, 1747, was that of the title character in Zéneïde, a trifling one-act comedy by Louis de Cahusac that may or may not have been inspired by an episode in Zeneyde by Count Anthony Hamilton. Hamilton was a writer of Scottish ancestry who lived in France and wrote in French, and his Zeneyde was to be found in his Œuvres mêlées en prose et en vers, published posthumously in 1731. An English version appeared in 1760 in Select Tales of Count Hamilton.

It was presumably around the time of this performance that the Marquise acquired the present manuscript volume, which is identified in the captions of its three sections and on the spine of its binding as "Zeneyde." It has always been assumed to be a version of Hamilton's Zeneyde. In the catalog of Pompadour's books offered for sale after her death, it was listed immediately following her copy of Hamilton's Œuvres.

However, upon closer examination, the manuscript appears to bear little or no relationship to Hamilton's Zeneyde. For one thing, there is no character by that name in all of its 487 pages, and none of its major characters appear in Hamilton's conte, a short historical tale left incomplete at his death. There is a bit of overlap in the period. The subtitle (inscribed in another hand) of the manuscript's first section is "Anecdotes du règne de Childéric," and Hamilton's Zeneyde is also set in part among the half-mythical early Merovingians.

I have been able to establish the manuscript's true identity. The text is word for word the same as that of a work by Marguerite de Lussan that appeared anonymously in 1736 under the title Anecdotes de la cour de Childeric, roi de France. This work was indeed once ascribed to Hamilton, who died 16 years before it was published. The Bibliothèque du roi (predecessor of today's Bibliothèque nationale de France) listed it under Hamilton in its catalog of 1752. However, A.A. Barbier, in his classic Dictionnaire des ouvrages anonymes et pseudonyms (the 1822 and later editions) declares this attribution to be without foundation, and adds, "I have found the name of Mademoiselle de Lussan inscribed by hand in a copy."

Who was Marguerite de Lussan?

She was born in 1682, some say to a fortune teller named La Fleury and a coachman, while others declare her to be the child of Louis Thomas, Count of Soissons and Prince of Savoy, and an unknown courtesan. Or perhaps the child of La Fleury and the prince — modern research would seem to support this theory. At any rate, the prince, who was the older brother of the more celebrated Prince Eugene of Savoy, took a special interest in her education and permitted her to bear his arms. Feted and encouraged by older men of letters, she never married, but found a long-time companion in the minor dramatist, royal censor, and compulsive gambler Jean-Louis-Ignace de La Serre, to whom some of her works were, at times, unfairly attributed (a similar fate has befallen women writers in many eras).

Mining a vein uncovered by earlier French female romanciers, such as Madame de La Fayette and Madame de Villedieu, Lussan wrote a string of successful historical novels, mostly dealing with the tribulations of true love against the background of court life under various French monarchs. Such works were the "chick lit" of their day, popular but critically scorned — "except," writes Doris Cuff, "among enlightened people who favored literature in any form, such as, for example, Mme. de Pompadour." Indeed, Pompadour is said to have thought highly of Lussan, and possibly granted her a pension. Lussan's Anecdotes de la cour de François I (1748) is dedicated to the Marquise. She died in 1758.

I am still seeking an explanation as to why this manuscript bears the wrong title. If anyone reading this has any ideas, please tell me! In the meanwhile, the little volume keeps its secret. I've already quoted from the Austin Dobson ballade about another beautiful object that belonged to the Marquise de Pompadour. It concludes:

Where are the secrets it knew?
Weavings of plot and of plan?
— But where is the Pompadour, too?
This was the Pompadour’s Fan!

This was the Pompadour's book!

For further reading:

I've cited English translations of French works, when available.

Cahusac, Louis de. Zénéïde: comedie, en un acte, en vers, avec un divertissement. A Paris: Chez Prault fils, 1744. Available online via HathiTrust.

Catalogue des livres de la bibliothéque de feue Madame la Marquise de Pompadour, dame du palais de la Reine. A Paris: Chez J.T. Herissant, et J.T. Herissant fils, 1765. Available online via HathiTrust; Google Books.

Cuff, Doris A. "Introduction à une étude sur Marguerite de Lussan et le roman historique au commencement du XVIIIe siècle." Revue d'histoire littéraire de la France. 43e année, no. 1 (1936), pp. 1-19. Available online via JSTOR at all NYPL locations. Most of my information on Lussan is derived from this source.

Goncourt, Edmond de, and Jules de Goncourt. The Confidantes of a King: The Mistresses of Louis XV. Translated by Ernest Dowson. London: T.N. Foulis, 1907. Available online via HathiTrust; Google Books (v. 1; v. 2).

Hamilton, Anthony. Select Tales of Count Hamilton. London: Printed for J. Burd, 1760. "The History of Zeneyde": v. 2, pp. 154-230. Online resource; available onsite at the Library's research locations.

Jones, Colin. Madame de Pompadour: Images of a Mistress. London: National Gallery Company, 2002.

Jullien, Adolphe. Histoire du théâtre de Madame de Pompadour, dit Théâtre des petits cabinets. Paris: J. Baur, 1874. Available online via Google Books.

Lussan, Marguerite de. Anecdotes de la cour de Childeric, roi de France. A Paris: Chez Prault père, 1736. Available online via Google Books (v. 1; v. 2)

Lussan, Marguerite de. Anecdotes de la cour de François I . A Londres: Chez Jean Nours, 1748. Available online at the Library's research locations, and via Google Books; dedication to Pompadour follows the title page.

Salmon, Xavier, editor. Madame de Pompadour et les arts. Paris: Réunion des musées nationaux, 2002. "Madame de Pompadour bibliophile," by Isabelle Conihout: pp. 268-279.

At NYPL: Books about Pompadour in English, to borrow or read online.

I would be remiss not to mention madamedepompadour.com, a Madame de Pompadour "fan site" maintained by Lorenzo Crivellin, in Italian, French, and English. It's a great source of miscellaneous information, documents, links, and pictures of everything Pompadour, including dozens of portraits.

Hough's American Woods

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 08:38:22 -0400

Romeyn Hough (1857-1924) was single-minded in his devotion to trees. He was also a New Yorker, and when he embarked on The American Woods, he turned to the trees of his state first in what would eventually grow to be a 14-volume masterwork. The American Woods remains invaluable today due to the range and age of the tree samples Hough included, and the Library's Rare Book Division holds a complete set of this delicate and beautiful work, as part of its George Arents Collection.

What sets The American Woods apart from other tree studies is the presence of samples of each and every North American tree that Hough surveyed. Each tree’s entry includes a cardboard plate with three cutouts into which Hough mounted translucent slices — transverse, radial, and tangential of the tree’s wood. Accompanying descriptions cover each tree’s characteristics, growth habits, medicinal properties, and commercial possibilities.

Here are some pictures of his samples of New York’s state tree, the sugar maple, which he called “one of the most useful trees of Canada, New England, and the Middle States,” producing, “in the tastes of many, the most delicious of sweets.”

Here is the plate with the wood slices laid flat:

And here is the same sugar maple plate, lit from behind:

Hough patented the device he invented to make the translucent wood slices for this project. And, recognizing the commercial potential that these slivers of wood had in other arenas, he marketed and sold them for use as magic lantern slides, trade cards, and invitations. This advertisement for his business is pasted inside the first volume:

After releasing Part I in 1888, Hough spent the rest of his life working on the volumes that followed. And although he died before he could finish, his daughter Marjorie completed this work after his death. Want to see more of Hough's American Woods? The Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library has digitized their copy, and you can find it by searching for the call number "zc10 888ho" on their digital collections site.

Emblem Books, or, What's Going On in this Engraving?

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 09:40:05 -0500

This is one of over a hundred such puzzling images you can find in Symbolorvm & emblematvm ex animalibvs qvadrupedibvs desvmtorvm centvria altera, a 1595 book printed in Nuremberg, Germany.

Emblem books like this one were common in 16th- and 17th-century Europe, and a typical example of this genre contained dozens of emblems — each made up of an image and some explanatory text meant to be approached as a small mystery to be solved by the reader (and often designed to impart a moral lesson). Because emblem books combined words and images in ways novel at the time, they are interesting examples of print in which the illustration and text must be studied as one in order to glean meaning from the page.

This book’s author, Joachim Camerarius, was a Nuremberg physician and botanist, and he also created a plant-themed emblem book called Symbolorvm et emblematvm ex re herbaria desvmtorvm centvria. (In the Library's Rare Book Division, these two works are bound together in a single volume. The German language, which has a word for everything, calls two or more distinct works bound together in a single volume a Sammelband. I recommend browsing ABC for Book Collectors to brush up on bookish vocabulary.) Camerarius drew on a variety of humanist scholarship when detailing the flora and fauna within his works, and his volumes include extensive lists of the sources — both those from antiquity as well as sources contemporary to him — he consulted in compiling his books.

Scholars have long turned to emblem books for the clues they provide about everyday life, mores, and customs. Camerarius’s animal emblems are studied for the light they shed on natural history and animals in folklore. If you’d like to learn more about emblem books, I recommend the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign’s German Emblem Books website and Glasgow University’s Emblems website. And if you’d like to see each and every one of Camerarius’s amazing animal emblems, you can page through the Getty Research Library’s copy online on the Open Library website. I recommend visiting the pages with the camel, the unicorn, and the bears, myself.

Fancy a Cuppa? Tea in the Rare Book Division

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 04:35:35 -0500

"Thank God for tea! What would the world do without tea? How did it exist? I am glad I was not born before tea."— A Memoir of the Reverend Sydney Smith*

On the coldest winter days, I must say I agree with Smith. And while reading through a little 1863 recipe book called The Book of One Hundred Beverages in the Rare Book Division recently, I decided to see what it offered in the way of advice about hot tea.

Written by William Bernhard, The Book of One Hundred Beverages is organized into chapters with wonderful titles like Aqueous Beverages, Effervescing Beverages, Artificial Mineral Waters, and more (with some mock lemonades and wheys thrown in for good measure). I found tea right where it should be, in Breakfast Beverages. After describing how tea causes a “watchfulness and sleeplessness, whilst, at the same time, it has a soothing and sedative action on the heart and circulation,” Bernhard then enlists the help of one poet and one chef on the topic of brewing a proper cuppa.

Bernhard first offers Leigh Hunt’s advice on tea (quite similar to the guidance included in the July 9, 1834 issue of Leigh Hunt’s London Journal). Hunt’s instructions, though flirtatious at the start, cover territory that is familiar to tea makers today, with the main point being that the water must be in “a thoroughly and immediately boiling state.” What I like in particular is Hunt’s sensual description of a correctly made cup:

“In tea, properly so called, you should slightly taste the sugar, be sensible of a balmy softness in the milk, and enjoy at once a solidity, a delicacy, a relish, and a fragrance in the tea.”

Hunt’s instructions are followed by those of chef Alexis Soyer, author of A Shilling Cookery for the People (and also, interestingly, a food reformer who sought to relieve famine in Ireland and who also worked with Florence Nightengale to improve nutrition among soldiers in the Crimean War). What intrigues me about Soyer’s advice is his suggestion to “warm both the pot and the tea before the fire” before adding boiling water. This step works in “developing the aromatic principle.” Sounds promising, right?

Do you heat your dry leaves and pot first, à la Soyer? Are you a fan of loose leaves or little bags? What winter food and drink rituals — and what books — get you through the winter?

*Smith was, according to the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, a “scabrous wit” as well as a founding editor of Edinburgh Review. And apparently a lover of tea as well.

The Boar’s Head in Hand Bring I

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 07:53:09 -0500

No, I’m NOT referring to the deli meat company. It’s the Boar’s Head Carol that’s on my mind. This traditional English holiday song, which celebrates the arrival at the feast of a greenery-garlanded boar’s head, has been sung for over 500 years. And it is still being sung today, even though my colleagues denied ever having heard it before. (They have since been subjected to a few versions on YouTube.)

The lyrics to this carol have been collected both in manuscript and in print formats for over five centuries, and one recent version, held in NYPL's Rare Book Division, was created in 1914 by a printer named Charles Clinch Bubb. Bubb compiled and printed his Garland of the Eight Boar’s Head Carols of Olden Time Surviving as a holiday memento for members of a Cleveland-based bibliophiles group called the Rowfant Club. Bubb’s little book includes early printer Wynkyn de Worde’s 1521 version of the lyrics:

Hungry for more early English carols? The Library’s got plenty of sources, including Christmas Carols from Around the World, The Daily Telegraph Book of Carols, 170 Christmas Songs and Carols, An Old English Christmas, and more. I first heard the Boar's Head Carol on a recording called The Christmas Revels, and the Library has it and more by this same organization as well.

Christopher Morley's Christmas Salute

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 07:59:16 -0500

Perhaps it is not surprising, but lovers of printing have a long history of honoring the holidays in print. In December 1935, for example, rare book dealer Philip C. Duschnes published a limited edition of a small letterpress booklet called A Christmas Salute. This little printed keepsake incorporates glittery cardstock and bright red and green ink.

The text itself, by American writer Christopher Morley, is a simple series of greetings to those who bring him and others joy — from librarians to greengrocers, from apple-growers to subway guards, and from waitresses to those who stop along the pavement to smell the Christmas trees. Here's the first page:

Morley's Salute first appeared in the New York Evening Post (Dec. 23, 1922), and this little piece has led me to hunt down a few of his other works to read over the holidays. His many books include Kitty Foyle and Parnassus on Wheels. Morley also worked as a founding selector for the Book-of-the-Month Club as well as a co-editor for Bartlett's Familiar Quotations.

A Christmas Salute is one of a number of Christmas keepsake publications held in the Rare Book Division. Often created by those who operated and those who loved private presses, these seasonal books and booklets — drawing on texts both classical and contemporary and often including elegant illustrations as well — became little limited-edition printed gifts to share at this time of year. The Library's copy of A Christmas Salute is one of three hundred copies printed by the Walpole Press in Mt. Vernon, New York.

Islam in Europe: A Resource Guide at NYPL

Raymond Pun, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, General Research Division — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 05:08:03 -0500

According to the BBC News, "Islam is widely considered Europe's fastest growing religion, with immigration and above average birth rates leading to a rapid increase in the Muslim population." There are currently over 15 million Muslims (Sunni and Shiite) living in Europe and Islam is currently the second largest religion in the world after Christianity.

This blog post will focus on NYPL’s rich collection on the history of Islam in Europe: past and present; the historical, political, cultural, and economic relationships between the states of Europe and the Middle East concerning multiculturalism, integration, segregation, gender and democracy.

The Islamic faith arrived in the European continent from the Arabian Peninsula as early as the 12th century through religious migrations and trades from the Silk Road, an ancient route that connected to Asia.

During the Middle Ages, European-Christian armies and Muslims waged a series of religious warfare against each other. Known as the "Crusades," these holy wars were fought throughout Europe and the Middle East to liberate Jerusalem from Muslim rule. Some countries such as Spain and Malta were also ruled by Muslims. From the 7th to the 13th century, this period was also known as the "Golden Age" because of the scientific advancements, cultural achievements and literary contributions that greatly shaped the history and civilization of Spain and beyond.

In 15th century Spain, some people, particularly Jewish people spoke a unique Sephardic language called "Ladino" - a mix of Hebrew, Spanish and Arabic. During this time, the Spanish Inquisition under the order of Ferdinand II and Isabella I took place; this national policy forced Muslims and Jews to leave Spain or covert to Catholicism.

During the late 19th century, the Ottoman Empire slowly lost influence and power in the Middle East; it had dominated the region for five centuries. As a result of the decline, the European powers took the opportunity to access these territories. By the end of World War I, the empire dissolved (1923) and the British and French forces took over the Middle East. This caused further political strife which inevitably created and formed new (and revived old) nation states from the shackles of imperialism such as present-day Lebanon, Jordan, Iraq, Palestine, Egypt, Syria, Saudi Arabia, (north) Yemen, Qatar, and Turkey.

Today as the political conflicts and revolutions in the Middle East emerge, scholars, journalists and politicians have been discussing these external concerns affecting the world. As many Africans and Middle Easterners are migrating to Europe, the issues of immigration and discrimination, multiculturalism, and gender and religious rights in Europe are being also discussed and analyzed. From Turkey's attempt to be part of the European Union to the Chechen communities in Eastern Europe and Russia, the NYPL has an extensive research collection to get you started.

To find basic resources at NYPL, search the Library's catalog under keyword for "Islam and Europe" or type in a specific country: "Islam and France" and this should narrow down your search results. For a more advanced search, switch keyword to subject and type in "Islam -- (Country of your Choice)." This may give you other sources not listed in the keyword search. You can also narrow down your search by format, location, language or time period. For a brief bibliography, check the list below.

In May 2009, for one week, LIVE from The NYPL hosted a series of academic and cultural discussions entitled, "Islam in Europe: Insult: Fractured States?" on the impact of Islam in Europe in the 21st century. Notable speakers included the Her Majesty Queen Noor of Jordan as well as prominent journalists, politicians and scholars; subjects of discussions included immigration, religion and society, religious, civil and women’s rights.

Selected Primary Sources at NYPL

al-Sharq al-Awsat: "The international daily newspaper of the Arabs" published in London in Arabic.
PressDisplay: Provides access to current newspapers from around the world in full-color, full-page format. Includes over 1,000 U.S. and international titles. Read this NYPL blog entry for details about this resourceful database. (Also available from home).
British Newspapers: 1600-1900: Offers researchers with the most comprehensive collection of national and regional newspapers of Victorian Britain. For those conducting research on the British Empire or Victorian culture, they will find this database to be useful.
Historical International Newspapers from Europe and the Middle East available in the Microform Reading Room: for a list, check this page. (Please note that most historical international newspapers must be requested in advance, see here.)
To read current international newspapers such as The Independent (U.K.), The Times (England), Le Monde (France), El Pais (Spain), Frankfurter Allgemeine (Germany), Corriere Della Sera (Italy), please go to the DeWitt Wallace Periodicals Reading Room in the Stephen A. Schwarzman Building.
For more digital newspapers from Europe or the Middle East, check out this list. To learn more about researching historical newspapers, read this NYPL blog entry.
Le Monde des Religions is a French bimonthly periodical that focuses on religious traditions and spiritualities in the European continent.
Arab Historian Crusades / selected and translated from the Arabic sources by Francesco Gabrieli; translated from the italian by E.J. Costello - offers the perspectives and accounts of Arab historians viewing and documenting the Crusades.
Napoleon in Egypt chronicles the French invasion in Egypt through the eyes of a French officer and an Arab historian.
For maps, prints and images of Europe and the Middle East, check out NYPL's Digital Gallery and also check out the Map Division.
Learn more about the Islamic faith through NYPL's Three Faiths Online Exhibition>>

Selected Secondary Sources at NYPL

Why the French don't like Headscarves: Islam, the State, and Public Space by John Bowen examines the controversy behind the French government's banning of the veil and other religious symbols in public schools as it infringes on religious freedom.
Politics of The Veil by Joan Wallach Scott - Similar to Bowen's work, Scott explores "the long history of racism behind the law as well as the ideological barriers thrown up against Muslim assimilation in France."
What I Believe by Tariq Ramadan - Ramadan is "among the leading Islamic thinkers in the West, with a large following around world. In this work, he calls on Western Muslims to escape the mental, social, cultural, and religious ghettos they have created for themselves and become full partners in the democratic societies in which they live. At the same time, he calls for the rest to recognize our Muslim neighbors as citizens with rights and responsibilities the same as ours ..."
White Teeth by Zadie Smith - a novel that explores the issues of multiculturalism in London through the lens of two families. Smith also spoke at LIVE from the NYPL on Speaking in Tongues.
Muslims in the West: From Sojourners to Citizens edited by Yvonne Yazbeck Haddad is a collection of essays that "studies the impact of the growing Muslim population on Western societies, and how Muslims are adapting to life in the West."
Heretic and Hero: Muhammad and the Victorians by Phillip C. Almond examines the Victorian impressions and images of the Prophet Muhammad.
For more on Islamic Spain >>
For more on the Ottoman Empire>>
For more on Medieval Europe >>
For a more in-depth list of academic titles on this subject >>
For a current index of scholarly articles on Islam in World History, consider Index Islamicus>>
For scholarly articles on the contemporary and historical research on Islam and Europe, check out the following databases: JSTOR, Project Muse, ATLA Religion and Academic Search Premier. For more databases>>

Happy Families and Vintage Games

Jessica Pigza, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, Rare Book Division — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 10:51:09 -0500

My apologies to Tolstoy, but happy families are NOT all alike. In the Library’s Rare Book Division, two distinct sets of playing cards prove the point. Here they are:

These cards, designed to be used in a card game called Happy Families, are two series of cigarette cards.

The George Arents Collection includes among its holdings thousands of cigarette cards, which were premiums tucked into cigarette packages. The cards were produced in various series meant to be collected--and also meant to encourage cigarette brand loyalty. (In NYPL’s Digital Gallery you can view both sides of each card; I like to browse by series name--but I warn you, it is addictive!) Some series were meant to be used as games, and that’s what’s behind the Happy Families series pictured here.

Each family set is made up of four characters — a father, a mother, a son, and a daughter — and every family name is a joking allusion to the livelihood or profession of the father of the family. So, for instance, families include the Pipes (he’s a plumber), the Matches (he’s a footballer), the Bulls (he’s a butcher), the Batches (he’s a baker), and the Tacks (he’s a tailor).

You can see the full decks of cards (one is called Happy Families and the other is Happy Family) on the Library’s Digital Gallery. Here are a few of my favorites from each deck:

Happy Families is played a bit like a more difficult version of Go Fish, and, handily, the instructions appear on the back of one set of cards.

You can read more about this and other card games in The Oxford Guide to Card Games or in Goren’s Hoyle Encyclopedia of Games. I also highly recommend the Victoria and Albert games site to learn more about the histories of a variety of games. I’m hoping to make myself a deck of cards and try a few rounds of Happy Families over the coming holidays. If you try, too, let me know how it turns out!

All Hands on Deck: NYPL Turns to the Crowd to Develop Digital Collections

Vicky Gan, Intern, Strategic Planning Office — Thu, 15 Sep 2011 12:51:48 -0400

Users are generating that reality every day at The New York Public Library through two landmark crowdsourcing endeavors, What’s on the Menu? and Map Rectifier. The former enlists the public in the transcription of historical menus, and the latter allows users to “rectify” historical maps by overlaying them on modern ones. Both projects stand out amid a glut of competitors as refreshingly guilt-free and subliminally educational uses of online time. With every menu transcribed and map rectified, users are supporting research in the humanities.

In the time it takes to deploy an angry bird, a user can identify and transcribe a dish dating back to the mid-nineteenth century. The recipe for the menu project is simple — click, type, submit, repeat — and has proven a runaway success, yielding almost half a million plates of Blue Points, porterhouses, croquettes, et al. The average visit to What’s on the Menu? is slightly under eight minutes and thirty page clicks long — an eternity on the web — and patrons are hungry for more. The initial release of 8,700 digitized menus was provisionally transcribed in just four months. NYPL recently ramped up digitization efforts to meet demand.

“There’s some kind of thrill about it,” observes Rebecca Federman, project curator and culinary collections librarian at NYPL. “Menus have an everyday nature but are also extraordinary.” They are extraordinarily rare; most restaurants scrap them after each service. Menus are a form of ephemera — printed materials, such as flyers, posters, and programs, that were not meant to be kept. They reveal the past through its quotidian details and prove, dish by dish, that we are what we eat.

For the transcriber, the collection is a treasure trove of little discoveries — the antiquated use of “farinaceous” instead of today’s “pasta”; the remarkable preponderance of oyster dishes; the revelation that steaks cost twenty-five cents, not twenty-five dollars. For the scholar, it is an invaluable source of historical data. Author William Grimes used the collection to produce a culinary history of New York. Texas A&M marine biologist Glenn Jones scoured seafood menus to study fish populations. What’s on the Menu? has also inspired users outside the academic sphere. Chefs Mario Batali and Rich Torrisi are fans of the project, and a fourth-grade class in Texas has been transcribing menus as a typing exercise. By codifying and enhancing digital collections, crowdsourcing spawns new applications for historical information.

NYPL’s Geospatial librarian, Matt Knutzen, is excited about crowdsourcing’s potential for the map collection. “You can study anything through geography, through a spatial lens,” he says. Using NYPL’s Map Rectifier, amateur cartographers align old maps with current ones to “create a historical framework for geographical information.” The maps convey much more than the locations of roads and landmarks; each layer incorporates multidisciplinary data to illuminate a specific period in a region’s development. Demographic data could chart patterns of migration. Nautical data could track changes in a harbor’s bathometry. Maps of defunct factories could have real-world implications for environmental remediation. “We’re not positioning ourselves to answer those questions,” says Knutzen. “We’re enabling people to find those answers.”

The Map Rectifier has already made a concrete impact in Haiti. In 2010, the Library contributed historical maps and georectification software to the Haiti OpenStreetMap used by earthquake aid workers. Citizen cartographers the world over collaborated to create an open-source map with up-to-date information on Haiti’s resources and infrastructure. NYPL added layers of data that helped rescue teams locate victims and coordinate relief efforts. In its way, crowdsourcing helped save lives.

Ben Vershbow sees many more such surprises down the road. Vershbow is the director of NYPL Labs, the Library’s experimental digital humanities unit. According to Vershbow, cultural heritage institutions are at last starting to step more boldly into the collaborative web. “After testing the waters on third-party services like Flickr Commons,” he says, “we are beginning to see libraries, museums, and other organizations investing in their own tools and communities, and going deeper with particular collections.” While enthusiastic about drawing users more directly into library initiatives, he is quick to note that crowdsourcing is not a goal in itself but a “solution to particular sorts of problems,” and can often open up a host of new challenges. “In asking for the public’s help in extracting the menus data,” he says, “we are making an implicit promise to do something interesting and useful with it. That means more investment in technology and in library staff dedicated to overseeing, growing, and explaining the menu database. What it means fundamentally,” Vershbow continues, “is re-imagining the very roles of librarians and curators, positioning them not only as custodians of physical collections, but as leaders of online communities.”

NYPL Labs staff are already on the hunt for their next “blockbuster” project. They’re considering collections to be tagged, transcribed, and curated by the public. They’re floating ideas for “maker sites,” which would allow users to create new media using items from NYPL’s Digital Gallery. They envision, in the distant future, a fully searchable, cross-referenced map of historical information — an online time machine. Click on a restaurant to pull up its 1902 menu. Pinpoint a teacher who lived on Mott Street. See the shows from the Lyceum Theatre’s opening night.

“It’s uncharted territory,” says Vershbow. And that’s what’s so thrilling about it.

History on the Half-Shell: The story of New York City and its oysters

Thu, 02 Jun 2011 09:22:32 -0400

Blue Points, Saddle Rocks, Rockaways, Lynnhavens, Cape Cods, Buzzard Bays, Cotuits, Shrewsburys -- raw on the half shell. Fried oysters, oyster pie, oyster patties, oyster box stew, Oysters Pompadour, Oysters Algonquin, Oysters a la Netherland, a la Newberg, a la Poulette, oysters roasted on toast, broiled in shell, served with cocktail sauce, stewed in milk or cream, fried with bacon, escalloped, fricasseed, and pickled. If you have spent any time transcribing for NYPL's What’s on the Menu? project, you’ve seen a lot of ways to prepare this humble bivalve.

It surprises some that oysters are such major players on these historic menus, but the oyster reigned supreme as the quintessential New York City food long before pizza, hot pretzels, bagels, and hot dogs were known to our shellfish-encrusted shores. When Henry Hudson first sailed into the river that would one day bear his name, the Lenape people had long been plucking its supple oyster beds. Archaeological evidence gathered from tremendous mounds of oyster shells called “middens” indicates that the New York Harbor oysters were not only plentiful, they were much larger than the kind familiar to us today. Harbor oyster shells from these middens measured up to 10 inches, and early European travellers describe the shellfish as being about a foot in length1.

In a comprehensive history of the oyster in New York, The Big Oyster, author Mark Kurlansky wrote, “the history of the New York oyster is a history of New York itself -- its wealth, its strength, its excitement, its greed, its thoughtfulness, its destructiveness, its blindness, and -- as any New Yorker will tell you -- its filth.” It was pollution and over-harvesting that killed the oyster industry in in New York, a surprising feat considering that the lower Hudson estuary once had 350 square miles of oyster beds and some biologists estimate that the New York Harbor contained half of the the world’s oysters2.

Though the Dutch were disappointed that the harbor oysters were not pearl producers, they recognized their abundance; the settlers even called Ellis and Liberty islands “Little Oyster Island” and “Great Oyster Island” because of the sprawling oyster beds surrounding them. Pearl Street, once a waterfront road, was named for a midden and later even paved with oyster shells. Early in New York history, the oyster became world-renowned. Kurlansky explained, “Before the 20th century, when people thought of New York, they thought of oysters. This is what New York was to the world -- a great oceangoing port where people ate succulent local oysters from their harbor. Visitors looked forward to trying them. New Yorkers ate them constantly. They also sold them by the millions.” He also wrote, “The combination of having reputably the best oysters in the world in what had become unarguably the greatest port in the world made New York City for an entire century the world’s oyster capital.”2 Charles Dickens, during his American sojourn, was one of those foreign visitors who made it a point to stop at the city’s oyster cellars, which advertised “Oysters in Every Style”3. Dickens even commented on the “wonderful cookery of oysters” within New York1.

The oyster cellar was a ubiquitous eatery in NYC from early in city history until the closing of the oyster beds. Downing’s Oyster House, a celebrated oyster cellar of the early 1800s, was located at the corner of Broad and Wall streets. Proprietor Thomas Downing was an African-American businessman (rare in pre-Civil War America) who listed his occupation as “oysterman” in the city directory. Downing’s Oyster House was well known amongst the city’s well-to-do, and as a result Downing himself became famous and affluent. The Oyster House did not limit its offerings to raw, fried, and stewed -- Downing’s menu included scalloped oysters, oyster pie, fish with oyster sauce, fish with oyster sauce, and poultry stuffed with oysters4. Delmonico’s, easily the vanguard restaurant of NYC and en vogue Francophiles, set the trend of serving oysters raw on the half-shell2. They are also responsible for the trend of menus littered with mots français, many examples of which you can espy in the menu collection.

Oysters were by no means limited to nice restaurants, or even oyster cellars. Street vending of oysters, along with hot corn, peanuts, and buns, was part of New York’s regular food distribution system. While visiting New York in the 1790’s, the Frenchman Moreau de St. Mery commented, “Americans have a passion for oysters, which they eat at all hours, even in the streets.” Oysters were regular fare at cheap eateries, and it was claimed that the very poorest New Yorkers “had no other subsistence than oysters and bread.”1 Fortunately, oysters are nutritious - rich in protein, phosphorus, iodine, calcium, iron, and vitamins A, B, and C.5

An interesting specialty that also appeared on New York menus was terrapin. The terrapin, considered exotic even in an age when calf brains were regularly seen on menus, was “unique among turtles because it lives in the same brackish tidal waters as the clams and oysters upon which it feeds.” Later served in upper class restaurants with wine sauce or a la Maryland, terrapin was once served in taverns cooked in the style that the Lenape had used: roasted whole over an open fire2. Naturally, the terrapin disappeared off of menus when their own diet of New York harbor oysters became polluted.

Though the original oyster population was capable of filtering all of the the water in New York Harbor in a matter of days, it was not an unlimited resource. In 1658, New Amsterdam’s Dutch Council had already limited when and from where oysters could be gathered because of over-harvesting. As early as 1704, residents of Rockaway attempted to regulate oystering in their waters to locals only. New Yorkers made a lot of mistakes with oystering - for example, it took a remarkably long time to figure out that the best thing to do with oyster shells is to dump them back onto oyster beds. Previously they had been burned, placed in piles, or turned into mortar paste to aid NY’s building boom. Trinity Church is an example of a building built with oyster-shell mortar paste.

Burdened by over-harvesting, sewage pollution, and landfill -- Manhattan added over 60 acres to its land area with landfill -- the oysters of New York harbor were not on a sustainable track. In 1927, the last of the New York oyster beds was closed, primarily because of toxicity. Following that year, “New Yorkers continued to eat oysters, though not as many, and oyster bars remained popular, though not on the same scale. New ones opened all the time, like the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Terminal that debuted in 1913. But they weren’t serving local oysters.”2 New York was no longer an oyster capital.

New York’s oysters were too polluted to eat by 1927, and pollution only increased in subsequent years. It was not until after 1972’s Clean Water Act that any improvements were seen, but the oysters are still not edible almost 40 years after the passage of that act. Dredging stirs up centuries worth of pollution lying thickly upon the harbor floor. But one thing is certain, replacing the oyster beds will only help aid the rehabilitation of the harbor. Though the oysters can do nothing about harmful PCBs and heavy metals (which is why we still shouldn’t eat them), they can quickly cleanse organic wastes from the water. Major efforts to restore New York’s oyster population are underway.

* * *

Join the menu transcription effort at What's on the Menu?

Sources for this article:

1. Gastropolis: Food and New York City.

2. The Big Oyster by Mark Kurlansky

3. "Before there were bagels, New York had the oyster" by William Grimes, New York Times; retrieved via Gale Group New York Times 1985-present.

4. "Mr. Downing and his oyster house: the life and good works of an African-American entrepreneur" by John H. Hewitt, American Visions; retrieved via Academic OneFile.

5. "Oyster" - via Grolier Online.

Know the Past, Find the Future: NYPL at 100

Rebecca Hohmann, Digital and Print Publications — Mon, 16 May 2011 08:31:49 -0400

Thursday, May 19, 2011
6 to 8 p.m.
Vanderbilt Hall, Grand Central Terminal
Free and Open to the Public

You're invited! Join Jay Walder, Chairman, Metropolitan Transportation Authority; Paul LeClerc, President, The New York Public Library; and Kathryn Court, President and Publisher, Penguin Books; for a special book launch for Know the Past, Find the Future: The New York Public Library at 100, NYPL’s free Centennial book.

Enjoy a special guest appearance by the Harlem Globetrotters! Hear readings by actress and singer Martha Plimpton, musician and writer Wesley Stace (aka John Wesley Harding), and 2009 National Book Award Winner Colum McCann, with music by Tin Pan Blues Band from Music Under New York.

Be one of the lucky individuals to pick up a free copy of Know the Past, Find the Future, generously published by Penguin Classics to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Library's iconic Stephen A. Schwarzman Building at Fifth Avenue and 42 Street, on Thursday, May 19, starting at 10 a.m. Books will be distributed at the Times Square, Grand Central, Bryant Park, Herald Square, and Union Square MTA subway stations, and all 90 NYPL locations — WHILE SUPPLIES LAST! Keep an eye out for your free copy. You won't be disappointed!

There is just one caveat: in the spirit of library book borrowing, readers must promise to pass the book on to ensure that the Library’s riches reach as many people as possible!

Know the Past, Find the Future includes an introduction from Library President Paul LeClerc and features photographs of and essays by more than 100 New York luminaries — from comedian Stephen Colbert and writer Jonathan Franzen to actress Mary Louise Parker, writer Zadie Smith, and many more — with their all-time favorite item from the Library’s vast collections.

Want a sneak peek? Favorite selections from the Library’s collections include photographs from Dorothea Lange’s American Country Woman Series, our original Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed animals, and even Charles Dickens’s favorite letter-opener — the shaft is ivory, but the handle is the embalmed paw of his beloved cat, Bob, toenails and all!

The eclectic mix of items reflects the amazing scope of the Library’s collections and NYPL’s place as a repository of human memory.

Among the more than 50 million items in the Library’s collections are things that people don’t necessarily save for posterity — such as restaurant menus. Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter chose Ye Waverly Inn’s “Daily Menu” from 1964 — one of the 40,000 historical menus housed at NYPL — to feature in the book.

“It’s something of a delight to discover that three of the principal joys of the manly arts — smoking, drinking, and eating — are represented in an institution as temperate and august as New York’s beloved Public Library,” says Carter.

“For if there is anything aside from pure historical scholarship that tells us what it was like to live back when, it is the trappings of pure enjoyment. And if there is a single document that harks back to those long-frowned-upon pleasures, it is the restaurant menu. History is most surely made at night.”

NYPL’s majestic 100-year-old Stephen A. Schwarzman Building has been a never-ending source of inspiration — for a novel, an invention, a new career, or as a welcoming place to pull up a chair and open a book. Discover its past, find your future, and join in the Centennial celebration!

Available as a free ebook from these vendors:

Hold the Applause! Testimonial Menus

Rebecca Federman, Collections Strategy, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building — Thu, 12 May 2011 11:50:19 -0400

Perhaps you’ve noticed a few more people joining the menu party lately. The Buncombe County Medical Association is here. As are our friends from the National Life Insurance Company. We’ve even extended an invite to our canine crew (and their owners) from the Philadelphia Dog Show Association.

Clubs, organizations, companies, and associations often hosted an annual dinner, usually at a hotel or large restaurant, to reflect on the year’s accomplishments and perhaps to recruit new members, but their menus differ widely. Some, like the National Life Insurance Co., treated its members to a wide variety of foods, from sweetbread croquettes to lobster salad. Others, like the dog show, kept the food offerings simple with the ubiquitous Blue Points and Waldorf Salad.

But some of these menus go well beyond the one-pager or folder, and flirt with the size of a pamphlet, managing to fit in addition to the menu, toasts, songs, names of board members, hymns, psalms, and much more into a complete souvenir program. Like this example from dinner by the St. George's Society in New York in 1900. Far more than a menu, this booklet includes not only toasts to the Queen and to the President of the United States, but to the Day, to the Land, to the Colonies, to the Sister Societies, and (finally) to the Ladies. And for those who need a little extra help, lyrics to God Save the Queen and The Star Spangled Banner.

Or this graphically arresting menu from the National Shorthand Reporters Banquet, also in 1900, held at Hotel Victory in Lake Erie, Ohio.

The menu of mock turtle, Philadelphia capon, Roman punch, and Petits Fours is fairly standard. The after-dinner speaking program, on the other hand, is anything but short, featuring such riveting discussions such as “Friendship among stenographers” by Dr. Rudolf Tombo of New York, and "Who are these stenographers?" by W.H. Macfeat of Columbia, South Carolina.

Important note to menu transcribers!

While these menus contain a wealth of information beyond the food (musicians, artists, popular songs of the time, organizations that no longer exist today), our goal (for now!) is to capture the food and dishes served at these events and not to worry about capturing every name, toast, speech, or Shakespearean quote, regardless of how interesting they may be (and they are!).

So as you transcribe pickles, potato croquettes, Delmonico potatoes, and sherbet, feel free to explore the social, literary, and professional worlds inhabited by these groups and organizations ... just don’t, as it were, "make a note" of them.

The Queen B: Miss Buttolph and Her Menus

Rebecca Federman, Collections Strategy, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building — Thu, 28 Apr 2011 08:05:44 -0400

If you've transcribed even one menu, you've likely seen her stamp. A blue oval bearing her name, "Buttolph Collection", as graceful as a branding iron over asparagus, Russian caviar, or Boston baked beans.

Miss Frank E. Buttolph stamped nearly every menu she collected for the New York Public Library, twenty-three years worth, amounting to roughly 25,000 menus under her tenure alone.

But who was Miss Buttolph and why did she collect menus?

Neither question is easy to answer. We know from records that she was about fifty when she began her menu project, she was educated (she translated Tasso), and she was an avid collector of postcards with lighthouses.

Her most notable collection, her menu collection, began on January 1, 1900, with lunch. In a letter dated February 14, 1900 she writes:

"On New Year's Day I stopped in the Columbia Restaurant for lunch and thought it might be interesting to file a bill of fare at the library. A week later the thought occured, why not preserve others? As a result 930 have passed through my fingers to the Astor Library."

By August, Miss Buttolph was taking out ads in hotel and restaurant trade journals soliciting menus from their readership. This ad from Hotel Monthly (August, 1900) stresses the physical condition of the menus, or cards:

"It is of the highest importance the cards should be well wrapped and then placed between stiff card-board of a larger size, else they are sure to be soiled and broken in the mail, which condition renders them worthless. One beauty of this collection is, nearly all of the 3,600 cards [in the collection] are perfect, but I have had had to fight harder then Gen. Otis did in the Philippines to keep my standard in position. When it has to be lowered I shall discontinue the work."

The full ad is reproduced below:

Miss Buttolph's colorful personality, which is suggested in the ad, was both the reason for her success and the cause of her downfall. Her diligence in hunting down menus (writing to restaurants, putting up advertisements, and speaking to the press), and her commitment to high quality (she did not hesitate to send menus back if they did not meet her standards) insured that the Library's collection was both comprehensive and pristine.

However, even though she was never an employee of the Library, Miss Buttolph's idiosyncricies and negative behavior ("Is this museum maintained by the city to afford whistling space for the cleaners, instead of for students?) upset many on staff and in the Library administration who felt that her behavior was too disruptive ("[Miss Buttolph] is contantly complaining about something and when she gets started, it is almost impossible to get rid of her.")

Miss Buttolph was dismissed from NYPL in 1923. She died of pneumonia at Bellevue Hospital the following year, on February 27, 1924.

* * *

Despite her tumultuous relationship with the Library, her committment to her collection never wavered. In one of her last letters to the administration, she writes:

"For many years my library work has been the only thing I had to live for. It was my heart, my soul, my life. Always before me was the vision of students of history, who would say 'thank you' to my name and memory...."

Thank you, Miss Buttolph. Your incredible stamp continues to be felt, indeed.

Continue transcribing her collection on What's on the Menu?

New Feature! Unlock Menus to Continue Editing

Ben Vershbow, Manager, NYPL Labs — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 08:43:34 -0400

We've gotten a number of questions over the past week of What's on the Menu? about menus marked as "done." Do we really mean done? As in finished, vetted, archived for posterity? Fear not, we've cleared up this confusion with some new language. What we really meant to say was "under review."

On several occasions, a volunteer e-mailed us saying they'd spotted errors, or missing dishes, on menus marked as complete. I happily re-opened the menus in question (a facility only open to site administrators) and invited them to continue their work. After doing this a few times ad hoc, we decided to just add this as a feature.

Now, for any menu you find that's under review, you can click the little lock icon to its left to re-open it for further editing, correcting or transcribing. So if you are feel like donning your proofreader's glasses, we invite you to dive into the menus formerly known as finished to hunt out typos and problematic transcriptions (as ameliorated by these helpful tips), or to insert decimal points in the price fields to bring the cost of living and dining down to appropriate circa 1900 levels (as required, say, in this menu), or other tidying and correcting tasks not yet anticipated. Don't forget to re-submit the menu for review (via the button below the dishes list, left sidebar) when you're "done"!

And then what?

As is often the case in libraries, and on the always-evolving web, the work is never completely and totally done. For the menus, finishing transcription is in fact just the beginning of a long and only partially mapped out journey of data cleanup and rectification — not to mention subsequent tasks we may open up, such as the identification of sections (appetizers, desserts), categorization (breakfast menu, dinner menu), and other things still TBD.

Our philosophy all along has been to launch the project as openly and simply as possible, build a big data pile, and then to start finding solutions for navigating and improving the data. Any brave souls who want to jump in now to start polishing and tweaking are more than welcome! Please report back any common issues that you find (in the comments field below or via e-mail at menus@nypl.org).

We're also racing to post a detailed Help page, much of it informed by valuable user feedback, and soon, we expect, by the forthcoming insights of menu unlockers as well. The key is in your hands!

Go to What's on the Menu?

Tricky Menu Tips: Ditto Marks, Prices, and More

Rebecca Federman, Collections Strategy, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building — Thu, 21 Apr 2011 10:42:16 -0400

Wow. We're sitting here with our mouths agape, simply overwhelmed --and thrilled! -- by the response to What's on the Menu? We knew you guys liked food, but holy (broiled) mackerel!

We launched WOTM very quietly, just three days ago, and, as of this typing, we have over 22K dishes transcribed! And it's evident, from the emails and tweets we've been receiving, that we have some very enthusiastic participants out there. Thank you!

But as you may have noticed, each menu is very different. Each has its quirks and idiosyncricies. Some have clear prices, some don't have any. Some have odd language, some are very straightforward. Some use ditto marks to convey the same dish, others repeat, repeat, repeat.

The following are some tips to think about while transcribing that I hope will clear up confusion, but please send us more questions as they come, either in the comments section of this post, to our menus@nypl.org community hotline, or through the Twitterverse @nypl_menus. Your questions and comments help us build a better and more robust site! We may add to this post over time, and all of it will serve as a draft for a more robust Help section on the menus site, coming soon. Meantime, here's some advice on navigating some of the more common snags.

Is a menu totally finished if it reads "done"?

Not quite. Every menu will go through a vetting process, where we will clean up any mixed-up prices, misspellings, etc. If it reads "done" it goes into a queue so that a NYPL staff member can review it. We haven't begun that review in earnest yet, but we're taking careful notes during this experimental first phase. Who knows, we may even re-open some of the menus at a later time for second-pass cleanup. Based on feedback, we're considering adjusting the status language to something like "locked for review." That may clear up the confusion.

Making sense of cents

Believe it or not, a sirloin steak can cost as little as 25 cents. Crazy, I know. But some menus also include pricier items, such as a $2.50 Terrapin, Maryland. Therefore, we've defaulted the currency to dollars (if the menu is from the U.S.) and we're asking everyone to adjust accordingly. If a steak is 25 cents, please mark as .25 Obviously if you mess up (or see someone else mess up) it will be cleaned up later, but it always helps us to add that little decimal point.

What's the deal with the ditto?

Have you transcribed any bills of fare from a coffee shop or oyster bar? If so, you've probably enountered menus with ditto marks (") as in:

Eggs, Fried

", Poached

", Soft-Boiled

When transcribing a menu and coming across the ditto (sometimes the menu will read "do", too), it helps to think of each dish as a discrete item which will be added to a huge database in which one can pull up a specific dish, across all menus. Therefore, it's enormously helpful to have Eggs, Poached reflected instead ", Poached. So, please don't use the ditto. Instead, please retype the original food offering in-full. But again, no sweat, we'll be cleaning up as we go, too.

Halving it all

Like the ditto mark, when coming across a dish that advertises a half chicken, or something prepared two ways, make two discrete entries. So instead of entering "chicken, half chicken", please enter the chicken twice, as in: "chicken" and "half chicken." That also goes for menu options on the same line. So, "oatmeal or hominy" should read "oatmeal" and "hominy."

When in dish doubt, don't leave it out!

Still not sure? Email us! menus@nypl.org

Go to What's on the Menu?