A Signed Binding

Illustration only, not for sale 
Just write your name in it - This is the simple version of the complex relationship between humans and their books. Because of the general movability of books (have you seen these tiny feet!) the documentation of ownership is not trivial. Mixed into this is a desire for display and status that manifests itself in the way a book is owned. The binding, typically created to the specifications of the owner, is a prime opportunity to manifest ownership. With the mark of the owner, one tries to nail the book to this shelf and to end the general flux of books from hand to hand, wandering from shelf to shelf. Grolier, a contemporary of our Jo de Lyon, marked the books of his library with a generous "et amicorum" thus confirming the delicate balance of display and ownership, something the modern term "conspicuous consumption" conveys. In this manner the royal bindings on the left are not about securing property, but a way to display ownership and status.
These are signed bindings, not in the sense of carrying the name of the binder, but because they carry the name of their owner.
In keeping with the contemporary practice of storing books flat, a bit of ink (examples below) can do the trick too. Inscribing the title of the book, or the name or initials of the owner on the edges, was part of the behavioral repertoire of owning a book.
          
What is happening along the edges is considered part of the binding, an area which deserves further study. Our book is also creating meaning on the book edges, but on an altogether different level. For all we know, E.A.M. could be a schoolboy, and Jo de Lyon could be a king. He instructed

For Sale

C. Plinii Secvndi Veronensis Historiae natvralis libri decem et septem: primi volvminis ab Alexandro Benedicto Ve physico emendatiores redditi. (Gilt Edges, gauffered and inscribed in large Gothic lettering "Jo * de Lyon / vicit Leo de * tribu / Juda *")
[Lyon : Balthazard de Gabiano] 1510
Vol 1 only.

See the complete description in the last "chapter" of this site

Who Was Jo de Lyon?






Joannes de Lugduno (Jean de Lyon) hailed from the diocese of Bourges, Latin Bituricae, the area of the Departements of Cher and Indre. He is listed in Students and Teachers at the University of Paris: The Generation of 1500  (2006) by James Farge,  on page 347,  as number 659. To be precise, he appears twice in the Rotuli nominatorum (Sorbonne, Archives, Reg 61),  in the following locations:
- (1512) (de Lugduno) dioc. Bituricensis - Reg. 61 fol. 57r 
- (1516) submagister grammaticorum regalis collegii Campanie alias Navarre, Bituricensis dioc. - Reg. 61 fol. 304v
He was the regent and subprincipal of the grammar school of the College de Navarre in Paris.  And he was a man who liked to own his books properly. He had his name and a motto inscribed in the gilt edges of his copy of Pliny. This is not lightly done - such an investment is costly, and implies a claim to distinction that puts him on the highest social level of book ownership, on an equal footing with any royal library. And when it occurred to him to part with one of his books, he did that properly too, in the form of a legal document, almost a contract, in which he transferred ownership of this precious book to his friend, magistro Joanni poligrapho Anglico, the voluminous author Master Johannes Anglicus. This contract, formally yielding any claims of ownership over a book which has the name of the previous

The Inscription

Ego Joannes de Lugduno, Mons[luc]ensis, gallus, Bituricensis dyocesis, in artibus magister in alma Parrhisiorum universitate & grammaticorum regalis collegii Navarre subprimarius & ibidem actu regens; ingenue profiteor me (ob incredibilem charitatis amorisque vicissitudinem) mero & puro dono dare magistro Joanni poligrapho Anglico hoc primum plinianum naturalis historie volumen cum secundo. Ad cuius rei prebendum fidele testimonium chirographum meum huic spontane<e> cedule apponendum duxi, kalendis aprilibus anno Domini 1512.  Jo Lion [seal]

I, Jean de Lyon, a French man of Montlucon, diocese of Bourges, master of arts in the bounteous university of Paris and vice-principal of grammarians in the royal college of Navarre and regent there at present, freely declare (on account of an incredible exchange of charity and love), by a pure gift willingly offer to the prolific author Master Johannes Anglicus this first volume, along with the second, of Pliny's Natural History. In witness thereof to this fact, I have freely affixed my signature to this note, this 1 April 1512. Jo Lion [seal]

Puns and Double Entendre in the Renaissance

Puns are the core of a strange, playful language. Shakespeare, who is wedded to punning by his own name, has taught us, through his best readers, that speaking in jokes which make fun of the common language, circumscribes a cultural or aesthetic project. Puns exploit the meaning and significance of the linguistic material: Puns think about language and its reign
The motto inscribed on the edge of the book is a quotation from the book of Revelation 5:5:  "Vicit Leo de Tribu Juda." 
Rev 5.5
At a primary level, the pun plays the name of the city (Lyon) , and also the name of the person (Jo de Lyon) against the animal we call lion. The French city called Lyon loves this litle joke. The association

Forgery, Contrefacon



Aldus Manutius was angry. Since 1503 he had created a new genre in the medium of print in his workshop in Venice. He was keenly aware of his achievement, and he resented the fact that in print property can not be preserved, because the next printer is already waiting to imitate your success.  
Just as the Apple iPad is a new genre in the medium of computing, those little volumes, printed entirely in a cursive script, small enough to go in your pocket, opened up new avenues of an intimate relationship with the writings and authorities of the past. Indeed, what was an authority in the traditional folio format, became more like a personal  friend in the 8vo format of the libri portatiles. It is the small and intimate format which helped to "unleash" the firm embrace of private ownership that our copy represents so vividly along its edges. 
The small formats from Aldus Manutius were a great success. Printers in Lyon were quick to imitate his new style, his typeface, the characteristic design of his title pages. They went on to reprint his titles, to cash in on what must have been a seller's market.  They soon understood that there was a benefit in not disclosing the place of fabrication, or in falsifying it. They created a wave of forged Aldines called Contrefacon. The book in question belongs to the genre of imitations of Aldine style, emphasized by the fact that neither place and name of publisher is part of the colophon. (But see here for a fault in our copy)

Memento Mori

The traditional Aldine title page is understated, disguising it as a text page almost. In our copy, two large letters, red and blue, make use of the typographical space afforded by the simple title page, largely empty and set in mere text capitals.

Title page with rubricated MM 
 The lettering in blue and red is part of the rubrication which is present throughout the book, and conducted in the same Gothic style of  lettering. The meaning of these two letters liberally placed on the title is not immediately evident, but one possibility is that they stand here as a Christian reminder of mortality: Memento Mori. This motto is especially poignant in light of the luxurious manner in which

But it is not complete...

Indeed, as far as bibliographical units go, this one is not complete. It would have been really nice if it still had the original binding, which would have given us valuable context for the gauffered edges. In its place we have an expert re-binding in rich brown calf with blindstamped floral ornaments front and back.
And it would have been really nice if the second volume stayed in touch. Did it have display same decoration along the edges? Was the inscription repeated on the second title page? Will it still turn up somewhere?
With the loss of the original binding more damage occurred: Our Pliny lacks two pages in the back. In the course of the rebinding (approx 1990) the last two pages were inserted as copies on paper similar to the original. This replacement covers fol 438 (last page of text, printed on recto only) and fol 439 (colophon only).
In the course of the recent rebinding, MS notes made on the old endpapers were preserved and they are inserted as copies. These notes are ascribed to Richard Heber (1773 - 1833), the English book-collector and bibliophile who amassed a library of over 150,000 volumes. In these MS notes Heber records his efforts to identify the edition and documents its rarity by a listing of more than 50 libraries or catalogues which do not record the title.
In spite of these imperfection, all the edges are here.

... ob incredibilem charitatis amorisque vicissitudinem

... on account of an incredible exchange of charity and love it says in the contract that transfers the book to Master Johannes Anglicus.  But what is charitas, what is amor? What is this friendship in 1512, and how can we possibly understand it 500 years later ? How can we avoid the pitfalls of romanticising a friendship between a French and an English scholar, yet still get a sense of what was going on between the donor and the recipient?


Option 1:  The gauffered edges were applied to the book at a time when its destination was already decided. Think of it as an oversized gift label, which will dominate the present with your own name 


Option 2:  Jo de Lyon has many or all the books in his library (well, it probably was not more than a shelf or two of books) elaborately marked, and then decided on this set to serve as a present because the subject-matter did not interest him, or because the recipient had shown a special interest in the topic


Option 3:  Jo de Lyon has himself received this book as a present and was embarrassed by the lavish exterior, preferring to pass it on


Option 4:  A school leaving present. Was one the teacher of the other? We know that many books were given as school leaving presents in the 19th century - what about 1510?


Much hinges on the meaning of vicissitudinem:  - the change, interchange, alternation of love and dearness, and much will remain obscure  - And what about poligrapho - Does he who writes much need books more than others? 


There is much that still awaits answering. 

C I P

C. Plinii Secvndi Veronensis Historiae natvralis libri decem et septem: primi volvminis ab Alexandro Benedicto Ve physico emendatiores redditi. (Gilt Edges, Inscribed)
[Lyon : Balthazard de Gabiano] 1510

Vol 1 only.
[28] 438 fol (error in pagination, fol 71 & fol 72 repeated)
Last two pages supplied in copy approaching the original. Page height 170mm.
Ref: Baudrier, Bibliographie Lyonnaise, (Paris 1964) 7th Series p. 24-25.
Rebound in modern full calf with blindstamped ornaments. Gauffered edges gilt, inscribed in large Gothic lettering "Jo * de Lyon / vicit Leo de * tribu / Juda *" Notes inserted indicating that the book comes from the library of Richard Heber. 

VII, 56, 191  (= fol 149v sq) deals with the inventors of human ingenuity, and has very old ink underlining and a few ink notes in the margin. One or two bookworms have taken their share.

The following libraries have copies of this title:
Poitiers: BU Droit Lettres, Vol 1 only
Lyon: Bibliotheque municipal, Vol 1 only
UCLA: Z233.A41 P71h 1510
Yale: Beinecke
Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center (non-uniform set)
Bancroft Library
John Rylands
None of these report gauffered edges.  
Aldines occasionally display decorated, gauffered or gilt edges. This is a unique copy because the name of the owner was inscribed (gauffered) on the edge, as is confirmed by his own signed and dated (1512) inscription on the title page. This inscription makes the book a present for a named friend (Joanni poligrapho Anglico). It is furthermore of great interest that the named person is also attested through independent documents relating to the history of the University of Paris in the early years of the 16th Century.

Price: [please inquire]