Showing posts with label Online. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Online. Show all posts

Monday, 27 July 2026

AI is not eating antique books

It seems that the latest injection of disinformation, or "FUD" (Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt), into discussions about AI is that AI companies are "eating" physical copies of rare and antique books in the same way that data-centres are believed to be "drinking" water. (I asked Nano Banana to generate an appropriate image of this imagnined process—using the same starting prompt I used previously—to help my readers visualise this action. Please enjoy the result!)
This, somewhat alarmist, 25 July article by Frank Landymore, for instance, suggests that AI companies are purchasing antique books in large volumes (this is in the article title: "AI Companies Are Buying Antique Books…") to use as high-quality training data, as these texts are free from modern digital AI content. Because it is cheaper, destructive, high-speed automated scanning processes are being used to digitize the books (i.e., book spines are guillotined off, the covers removed, page-stacks are fed into scanner hoppers, then thrown away). The practice is facilitated by book database services that keep the tech company buyers anonymous. Rare booksellers have ethical concerns about selling books to these services, warning that it permanently destroys some of the last surviving copies of historic literature.

The FUD here is the "antique books" and "historic literature" claim. Once you read through the parent and grandparent linked articles (3 April essay by Val Giordano, promoting the practice, here; 25 June [anonymous] essay on the NL Times, reporting concerns of European book dealers, here; a 26 June article by Benj Edwards here; a solid, 21 July essay by Emanuel Maiberg here) it becomes clear that the books being hoovered up by Anthropic (and possibly others) all post-date 1969 (when ISBNs were introduced) and most, it seems likely, post-date 2006 (when ISBN barcodes became ubiquitous)—about the same time, coincidently, that the arrival of modern smart-phones ended civilisation as we knew it.

That the AI-company proxies are exclusively interested in books with an ISBN is made very clear from the following anecdote reported by Maiberg:

The seller told me that … Bulk purchases … usually reflect interest in a specific topic, whereas the recent, very large purchases were of books that had little in common, except for the fact that they all had ISBNs. This seller also sells rare books that do not have ISBNs, and none of those were part of the bulk purchases. (emphasis added)

That the bulk-purchase companies are likely to prefer later, bar-coded books, seems probable from the scale they are working on—it is simply easier and cheaper to scan the bar codes of hundreds of thousands of books, than it is to key in the ISBN (and then check for errors) on the same number.

From the articles I mention above, it seems that second-hand book dealers are getting what I take to be in-fill requests, for any ISBN that has not shown up in the literal truck-loads of books donated to charities, that are sold off to bulk-book dealers / waste-paper merchants (on this, see my post here concerning Mubin and Raza Ahmed's "Wrap Ltd."—a "printed matter," "waste and scrap paper" import/export business with an annual turnover of £6.5M "or more.")

It simply wouldn’t be economical to buy a book via ABE, Alibris etc. if you could buy the same book at a fraction of the price from parasites, excuse me, erm … paper-dealers like Mubin and Raza Ahmed. I.e., you'd start with whatever your local large-scale charity can wring from a well-meaning public, checked-off against a master-list of ISBNs via bar-code scanning, and then back-fill the gaps in that master-list via ABE, Alibris etc.

For me, this is where it gets interesting. Anthropic et al. have more money than they know what to do with, and have just been stung to the tune of USD3K per book, for all the digital books they stole, and then got sued for stealing. That being the case, the following observation should come as no surprise:

there's a total disregard for the price of the book. I've had some books that sold through this way that were [...] greatly overpriced. That's kind of a tell for AI because they have just so much money.

* * * * *

Since I was born before ISBNs were a thing, it is hard for me to think of books after 1970 as "antique" or "historic" ("rare," especially, "rare on market" is another matter completely). Perhaps, this is easier for Frank Landymore—who seems to be in his early 30s. In any event, I asked one of the water-guzzling, book-eating monsters (ChatGPT) to estimate how many books have been published since 1970 (and 2006) and the answer should be reassuring.

It seems likely that something like 80 million English-language ISBN editions have been released, or which approximately 60 million editions were printed with a barcode. The number of unique works (i.e., with Pride and Prejudice counting once) is obviously much smaller—perhaps 10–20 million, but the number of physical copies printed is much larger, likely "well over 100 billion copies since the 1980s."

So, it seems Anthropic is attempting to gobble up millions of recent books (emphatically-not antique you baby-faced ageists!), mostly comprised of unwanted donations, fenced by the likes of Messers Ahmed, and otherwise unsold obscuriana, laying heavily on the hands of dealers who once supplied libraries, out of a pool of something like 100 billion copies printed.

If it were possible to pile this 100-billion copies one atop the other, it seems that the pile would likely extend 2.5 million kilometres, or about 6.5 times the distance from the Earth to the Moon. Indeed, only 14.5 billion books would be need to reach the moon, or 14.5% of all books printed with an ISBN.

I would wager as many books as I could carry, that far, far more than this 14.5%—perhaps 80% of these 100 billion books—have already been pulped, without once raising the interest of Landymore et al., making this story a pretty good parallel to widely-disseminated concerns about the water consumption of data centres. (Which is mostly FUD too, since most new data centres consume no water—they use closed-loop cooling—and the water usage of older AI data centres that do use evaporative cooling etc., is dwarfed by the water consumption of golf-course and intensive cattle farms. I.e., this is a gnat on the arse of a flee in the grand scheme of things.)

And while most AI tokens will doubless go to things like generating fake security footage of President John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe in flagrante delicto, or self-insert versions of Terminator or Twilight, it is already clear that AI can, and probably soon will, cure every disease known to man and put a complete stop to the death and mutilation caused by badly-driven cars on the road—to name but two of life’s miseries. If they need to guillotine a copy of each my books to do this (**), they are welcome to do so.

(**) if AI can also restore my use of AdobeCaslonExpert in the later versions of Word, they can have all my essays too.

Thursday, 28 May 2026

Ye Foolish Book Collector

Above and below are four versions of an image I generated using Google's free AI tool—i.e., via the Google browser. It used Nano Bannana to generate the images. My initial prompt was "Create an image in the style of Hans Holbein the Younger’s The Dance of Death series, for the type of book collector depicted in Sebastian Brant's Das Narrenschiff."
I refined the image by asking it to remove the top banner; then "[1] Remove the fools cap from the skeleton reaching for the book; [2] add a simple constellation symbol to the blank pages on book at bottom right (above the banner), such as those found in Hygini, Poeticon Astronomicon"
Of the four images, I like the most the second one above, and this last one below—which is closest to what I had in mind.
Although I was delighted with the images, I was most impressed by the persistence (?)—how well Nano Bannana maintained the integrity of the original image, while modifying small details. This is a huge improvement on what image generators could do only twelve months ago.

* * * * *

UPDATE 27 July 2026. I reused my initial prompt (as set out above) as a staring point for this new post on AI (not) eating antique books, and was so pleased with the resulting "Bibliomaniac versus Death" image that I thought I would add it here:

Tuesday, 19 May 2026

OCR Redux

In my 2011 essay on the difficulties of searching OCR text-bases like ECCO ("'The New Machine': Discovering the Limits of ECCO; here), I gave, as an example, the opening sentence of Haywood's Female Spectator as rendered by Google Books and the Internet Archive. The two OCR-captured texts averaged over 150 typos per 2000 characters, a high enough error rate to render parts of the text completely unintelligible.

(I actually first did this test in 2004, at which point I encountered 33 errors in a passage 432 characters in length in a passage from Ab.60.7 The Female Spectator, 5th ed. (1755). I.e., OCR messed up 1 in 13 characters, nixing twenty words. The result didn't change between my first attempt at this and when I sat down to write my article, so this is the result I reported in 2011.)

While the Google Books passage had 33 errors among 432 characters, the Internet Archive had 35 in 430, allowing for differences in punctuation of the originals. The total of 68 errors among 862 characters equates to 157 typos per 2,000 characters. Here is the Google Books:

T is very much, by the choice we make of fubjects for our entertainment, that theiefined tall*' diftiuguifhes itfelt" from the vulgar and more grofs
: reading it univerfaily allowed to be one of the mofr. improving, as well at agreeable amufemerits; but then to render it fo,. one fhould, among the number of books which ar« perpetually ifluing from the prefs, endeavour to lingle out fuch as promife to be moft conducive to tho(e ends.

Since 2011, I have occasionally revisited this crude OCR test, to see how much OCR has improved. In January 2020, the same Google Books passage had only ten errors, or approximately 1 in every 43 characters—a significant improvement over 2011. Not only had the error rate for individual characters reduced by two-thirds, only three words contained errors compared to the total of twenty in 2011. Here is the 2011 text:

T is very much, by the choic* we make of subjects for our entertainment, that the icrlned tail*' distinguishes itself from the vulgar and more gross : reading it universally allowed to be one of the most improving, as well as agreeable amusements ; but then to render it so,, one should, among the number of books which art perpetually issuing from the press, endeavour to single out such as promise to be most conducive to those ends.

The error rate in May 2026 is, to the surprise of absolutely nobody, even lower. The same passage in two different editions (there are more editions of The Female Spectator online now than there were in 2011 or 2020) is only seven errors, six of which are long esses. Here is Ab.60.5 The Female Spectator, 2nd ed., vol. 1 (1748) here

T is very much, by the choice we make of fubjects for our entertainment, that the refined taste distinguishes itself from the vulgar and more gross: Reading is universally allowed to be one of the most improving, as well as agreeable amusements; but then to render it so, one should, among the number of Books which are perpetually iffuing from the prefs, endeavour to fingle out such as promife to be moft conducive to those ends.

Ab.60.7 The Female Spectator, 5th ed., vol. 1 (1755) here has exactly the same error rate, but the set of long esses misrendedred differs slightly. Intriguingly, a later edition, with what I took to be generally clearer type, has a lower error rate but more nixed words. Ab.60.9 The Female Spectator, 7th ed., vol. 1 (1771) being:

XCXX59XT is very much by the choice we make of subjects for our entertainI ment, that the refined taste diftin#guishes itself from the vulgar and more gross. Reading is universally allowed to be one of the most improving as well as agreeable ametements; but then to render it so, one should, among the number of books which are perpetually ifluing from the press, endeavour to fingle out such as promise to be most conducive to those ends.

The worst of the bunch is a copy of the 1775 pirate edition on the Internet Archive, having 33 errors—almost unchanged since 2011—only some being long esses: Ab.60.10b The Female Spectator, vol. 1 (Glasgow, 1775) here


IT is very much- by the choice we make of." fubjr&s for our entertainment, that the refined t:ut: uifimguilhes itfclf from the vulgar and more'grofs. Reading is univerfally allowed" to be one of the molt improving as well as agreeable amutements; but. then to render it fo, one fhould, among the number of books which are perpetually iffuing from the prefs, endeavour to finglc out fuch as promife to be moll conducive to thofe ends.

My conclusion from the above is that the Internet Archive has some work to do and that the Captcha / Turing test should probably be based on the ability to "diftinguish," or "fingle" out "fuch" words as distinguish, single out and such.

Saturday, 7 March 2026

The New Google Books Interface Sucks

I will now be using Internet Archive links, wherever possible, rather than Google Books links. Here is my "old man yelling at clouds" explanation of why (a 2002 meme that is now, probably, an indicator of age).

The new Google Books format has degraded (in my mind) their interface, with dynamic overlays that become opaque to hide basic information about an item containing a search "hit" as soon as it finishes loading, or as soon as you interact with a page in any way (mouse or keyboard strikes). Here are the three steps in pictures: page, clear overlay, opaque overlay:


NB the thin white "floating" status bar box, at lower left, shows "waiting" in the first image, "loading" in the second, and which has disappeared in the third. It still isn’t clear to me why Google Books pages sometimes turns opaque as soon as the page finishes loading, and at other times, only once you interact with the page. But it conveys no information in either scenario since, even in the latter case it becomes opaque if you try to screencap the book information (i.e., before you interact with the page in any other way). Want to see the top of a page, or a page number? Tough luck. Want to centre or enlarge a highlighted term? Lol! Everything except the overlay page, with its puny title-box, disappears.


The thus-hidden page, displaying actual, useful information (such as book title, author, date of publication etc.), can only be reached by shutting down the overlay with mouse busy-work—there is no keyboard shortcut for this. By disregarding a warning on this page—that "Classic Google Books will [soon?] be turned off"—it is possible (for now), with yet more mouse-work, to reach the Classic Google Books interface. I’ll explain why you might want to do this shortly.

The obscured underlying page, the parent page or under-page (?), of the new interface is, admittedly, a better-organised version of the "About this book" page of the Classic Google Books interface, which was also a click-through. However, the Classic Google Books landing pages, the pages reached via search hits, were much more informative, making it possible to more-quickly shut down useless search hits.

All that remains visible on the overlay of the new interface is the first twenty characters of the title: so, "British Museum Catalogue of Printed Books: Edited 1881-1889 by R ..., Volume 52" becomes "British Museum Catal…" (as above); "The Magazine of American History with Notes and Queries, Volume 17" becomes "The Magazine of Am…"; and "Catalogue of the Private Library of Mr. George S. Davis" becomes "Catalogue of the Priv…"

The URLs reached via this new interface are also much longer than those in Classic Book Books. So, for instance, at their shortest (i.e., with search terms and other elements omitted), the URLs are

Old GB URL: https://books.google.com/books?id=rwJGAQAAMAAJ

New GB URL: https://www.google.com/books/edition/Catalogue_of_the_Private_Library_of_Mr_G/rwJGAQAAMAAJ

and for a specific page

Old GB URL: https://books.google.com/books?id=rwJGAQAAMAAJ&pg=PA49

New GB URL: https://www.google.com/books/edition/Catalogue_of_the_Private_Library_of_Mr_G/rwJGAQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&pg=PA49

It is unclear who benefits from the longer URLs: an AI crawler only needs "rwJGAQAAMAAJ" and a human gains little (in anything) from "Catalogue_of_the_Private_Library_of_Mr_G"—not least, since many browsers hide full URLs anyway, and those few that display URLs would be unable to display a full URL which has not had search terms and other elements omitted, as I have above. Personally, since I compose these posts in HTML, I find it a lot easier to read and write with the shorter, simpler Classic URLs. A Classic URL, with its 12-character ID (**), is also a lot more satisfactory for scholarship (i.e., in print), when referring to an online reproduction of a book, since it is easier for the writer and publisher to typeset/format and for the user to transcribe the URL and ID code.

So, while it is possible (for now, but it is unclear how much longer it will be possible) to click through from a Google Books search hit to the “Classic” interface, and from there, find the short URL and 12-character ID code for a book, and from that to generate a page-specific short URL, as above, doing so is now awkward and time-consuming; and since—given the warning—there is no guarantee that these short URLs will continue to work once "Classic Google Books [is] turned off," I will use the Internet Archive where I can, even for items on Google Books..

(**) Not alphanumeric: Google Books uses alphanumeric characters plus underscores, but excluding other special characters, these being "word characters" (apparently).

Sunday, 18 January 2015

The Betsy Thoughtless Stockmarket

The first book by Eliza Haywood that I purchased was the Pandora edition of Betsy Thoughtless (1986). I bought it on 9 December 1991 for $10. I don't know how many copies of Betsy Thoughtless I have bought since then, but it would be a lot, and all of them would have cost me more than $10. Some of them, a lot more than $10. So, although my copy of Betsy Thoughtless has great sentimental value to me, I have always considered it to be the least valuable of the lot. But no more!

Last Wednesday I was doing a search on AddAll and discovered that an extremely reliable bookseller who is offering a copy for $458 (USD364.37). My battered old copy of Betsy Thoughtless is doubling in value every four years! Unfortunately, when I look again this morning, it is clear that there has been a market correction. Sensible investors who had multiple copies have clearly been selling into this rising market and the price has fallen back to $149 (USD119.12). Those of you who have invested heavily in copies of the Pandora edition of Betsy Thoughtless can follow the value of your investment on Biblio here or ABE here.



It is always pleasing to find an extremely reliable bookseller, and so I wanted to know more about the vendor, who is called "ExtremelyReliable"—an extremely helpful choice of name, since it makes it extremely easy to remember. I pretty quickly found a page on the Zubal books site titled Never Buy Books From ... BOOKJACKERS which includes ExtremelyReliable in a list of forty bookjackers.

A bookjacker is someone who takes a genuine online listing for a book, then re-post the listing at an inflated price somewhere else. They might take a listing from Amazon, and post it on ABE.com, or from Half.com, and put it on Amazon, or eBay, or somewhere else. If a reader is foolish enough to buy from the bookjacker, the bookjacker buys the book from the original seller, providing them with the address of the actual reader. The bookjacker never sees or handles the book, but they collect their margin. Bookjacker work on a vast scale and make a lot of money from people who don't shop around, and don't suspect the practice. If you don't want to pay this tax on laziness or ignorance, don't buy from bookjacker! (Zubal explains how to avoid them.)

(Of course, a more polite form of bookjacking is as old as bookselling. Dealers buy from each other. They do it all the time, and there is a well-established, standard 10% discount offered by dealers to each another. Dealers who do not offer this discount (like—apparently—the Berkelouws), are considered arseholes by the rest of the trade. Specialist dealers obtain their stock almost exclusively in this way. At almost every book fair, dealers trawl each other's stock for any bargain (an oversight in pricing) or for stock in their specialist area: sometimes a special time is set aside before a fair opens to the public, to make sure that dealers get all the bargains. They then inflate their prices to cover their costs. This is one of the reasons specialist dealers charge more: they have to do so to cover the cost of obtaining stock. A book may change hands among dealers, many times, before a collector gets a chance to purchase it, each dealer collecting their margin like the bookjackers. The internet did not changed this method in any essential way: the specialist dealer now buys from a larger number of general dealers—whether amateur or professional—but they are still making money out of a buyer's laziness or ignorance, or by profiting from restrictive trade practices.)

Returning to the Pandora edition of Betsy Thoughtless (1986): bookjacking is only half of the explanation for the ExtremelyReliable price of USD364.37. The other half is dealers—huge ones, with a vast amounts of stock (some of them charities)—who use software to price their books. The prices are regularly updated. The software uses an algorithm to match a book to online listings (via an ISBN), establish the existing market price for that book, then undercut it by a small margin, so that their copy is neither a bargain, nor the most expensive copy online.

Bring these two dealers together and this is what happens: McDealer offers a book at $100, bookjacker relists it at $110, McDealer relists it at $105, bookjacker relists it at $115, McDealer relists it at $110, bookjacker relists it at $125, McDealer relists it at $120, and so on. This is why the price of the Pandora edition of Betsy Thoughtless wanders up and down, all on its own.

Zubal links to a very entertaining page on Amazon’s $23,698,655.93 book about flies. I went looking and found a book for USD759 billion, on Religious Plurality in Africa. (The vendor is not on Zubal's list.)


If looking for insanely-priced books is your idea of a good time, this is how you do it: go to the Amazon, Advanced Search page for books here, enter the publication date as After 1450, and Sort Results by Price: High to Low. For some reason this search doesn't work when I add Haywood as an author, but this search for Eliza Haywood on ABE (paperbacks, 1915–2015, sans print-on-demand) will help you track the value of your thirty-year old paperbacks. (Today's winner is the 1997 Oxford University Press edition of Betsy Thoughtless—another book I have! Winning again!) [For more on the Pandora edition of Betsy Thoughtless (1986) and Pandora's "Mothers of the Novel" series, see my post here]

Saturday, 17 January 2015

Early Criticism on Eliza Haywood

Thanks to Google Books, the Internet Archive and the scanning projects of various libraries, a lot of early (i.e., out-of-copyright) critical material—apart from reviews—is now available online. In the case of Eliza Haywood this is a mixed blessing, because a good deal of this material is "critical" only in the sense that it is censorious, not analytical.

However, whether adverse and positive, I think it might be useful to have such links to such criticism and comment, however brief, in one place. Unlike some of my other lists (links below), it is likely to be quite some time before this list is even close to representative or complete, but I'll start small, and add items as I find them.

[For editions of works by Eliza Haywood and recent criticism of the same, see here; for contemporary and early reviews of works by Haywood, see here; for contemporary biographical sources for Haywood, see here. For William Hatchett links see here.]

* * * * *

1832. John Genet, Some Account of the English Stage from 1660 to 1830 (Bath: H. E. Carrington for Thomas Rodd, 1832), 10 vols. ¶ Wikipedia entry here ("accurate and well-researched"); one of the more important and detailed nineteenth-century accounts of the plays by Haywood and Hatchett, frequently cited. (O = Oxford University; CaOTU = University of Toronto; * = miscataloged and not viewable outside the US.)
vol.1: O copy here and here; CaOTU copy here.
vol.2: O copy here and here; CaOTU copy here.
vol.3: O copy here and here; CaOTU copy here.
vol.4: O copy here and here; CaOTU copy here.
vol.5: O copy here and here; CaOTU copy here.
vol.6: O copy here and here; CaOTU copy here.
vol.7: O copy here and here; CaOTU copy here.
vol.8: O copy here* and here; CaOTU copy here.
vol.9: O copy here and here; CaOTU copy here.
vol.10: O copy here and here CaOTU copy here.

Sunday, 8 July 2012

Haywood Lost in the War

When I was in Germany in 1995 and 1997, searching for copies of Haywood's works, I encountered a few ghosts. Two which stand out in my mind are translations of Ab.67 The History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless: one in Berlin, one in Munich. In both cases one of the two volumes that comprise each set were "keine Benutzung möglich" [lost in the war].

In the case of Ab.67.13 L’Etourdie, ou Histoire de Mis Betsy Tatless (Berlin, 1755) the Bavarian State Library (the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek) in Munich held a set in two volumes in 1934, which was reported by Mary and Lawrence Price, but only the first volume survived WW2.

In the case of Ab.67.17 Geschichte des Fräuleins Elisabeth Thoughtleß (Leipzig, 1754) the Berlin State Library (Deutsche Staatsbibliothek) in Berlin held a set in two volumes in 1931, which was reported in Gesamtkatalog der preussischen Bibliotheken, but only the second volume survived WW2.

(The Prussian State Library i.e., the Preussischen Staatsbibliotheken only existed between 1918 and 1945; the library was broken up with the partitioning on Berlin and the collections were not reunited until 1992, only a few years before my visit. See Wikipedia entry here.)

I was struck, at the time of my visits, by the symmetry of these random losses, the first volume of one set, the second volume of another. And I was reminded of these losses this week by the happy discovery that Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin has acquired a second set of Ab.67.17 to replace the set "keine Benutzung möglich." And, ever-zealous to make amends for the past (past destruction wrought by and on them), the Germans have published the whole thing online (here) in colour.


The interface is a little clunky but, as you can see, the images are clear, the printing is gorgeous, and the digital facsimile is complete: including the binding. I have a link to this facsimile on my page of links to Haywood texts and scholarship—it is the first such link to a text not on Google Books. I hope this is a sign of things to come. That individual libraries will move beyond the production of online facsimiles of the same small number of prize texts, to facsimiles of a substantial portion of their historical collections.


(Keeping track of all the texts published online this way might be a challenge, but I'd rather have the challenge of finding all the texts I am interested in online, than be forced to fly to the other side of the world and undertake a nearly-endless trek from library to library. It is not that I didn't love the opportunity as a student to see so much of Europe and America, but it does seem mad to spend five minutes looking at one book after another, at one library after another, in one country after another, for months on end, only to return home and discover that—since I had overlooked a handful of tiny details—that I have to repeat my journey to complete my study!)

[Deutsche Staatsbibliothek copy 2 (19 ZZ 11623)]

[UPDATE: 2 July 2016: After all my pictures disappeared again, I decided to give up on external hosts for large versions (1000px) of my image files, and will stick with the smaller images (500px), which Blogger is prepared to host, for now on.]

Saturday, 26 February 2011

It is my fault that all the local bookshops are folding

It is true. And I feel guilty about it. As an out-of-the-book-cupboard bibliophile it is only right that I should make this public confession.

I have been buying about three hundred books every year for at least the last two decades. Some years more, some less. In some years the money I spent was pretty close to my annual income, the money that I lived off coming from buying and selling more books. And living off apples that grew in the back yard of the house I lived in.

When I started collecting books, many of the books I bought were new. But it doesn't take long before you have all the ones that you want—at least, all the ones that you want that are available new at your local bookshops. So I came to rely on local second-hand bookshops, which have a much, much wider range than new bookshops. They also have older books obviously, and I liked old books, just for being old.

When I started travelling interstate, I started hunting out and visiting bookshops, which I would trawl on massive book-buying binges. Then I started buying from the catalogues from these bookshops, and others I heard of, but could never visit. Then catalogues from overseas. Then I joined societies like the Early English Text Society and the Malone Society, so I could get my hands on reprints of obscure titles I would never find or afford second-hand.

And then, may the techno-gods be praised, the internet was born! Tim Berners-Lee might have invented the World Wide Web in March 1989, but I first used a computer with internet access in the early 1990s—using Telnet and then Eudora for email. The first web browser didn't come into existence until 1993 either. Imagine, I had been using a Mac since 1987, but had to wait six or seven years before it was any more useful to me than a typewriter.

In 1996 AbeBooks.com started. Apparently, it went live and "immediately began to transform the world’s used book business by making hard-to-find books easy to locate and purchase." It wasn't the only search-engine for books. BookFinder.com was launched in 1997 and Alibris was founded in 1997. So, by the end of 1997, online bookselling was everywhere.

Looking back over my journal of purchases, in 1996 I bought 225 books, but only three from overseas. In the following years the number slowly but steadily increased: 3, 8, 21, 15, 28, 36 etc. And since I was working at a large antiquarian bookshop and most of my money was spend at the shop I worked, this last figure represents a very significant proportion of the money I was spending on books outside of the shop.

And now, and for the last few years, almost all my book spending is overseas. And the books that I am buying locally tend to be less and less significant: these days it is pretty much only sci fi pulps with pretty covers. Stuff I could easily do without. Some are almost pity-purchases and nostalgic book-tourism.

Obviously, some of this change is the result of my increasing specialisation as a collector, but I have only been able to specialise as a collector because it has been possible to do so by buying from overseas dealers. After all, it wouldn't have mattered how many shops I visited in Australia, I would never have found a single book by Haywood. As so I have only been able to buy as many works by Haywood because I was able to buy from overseas dealers.

All of which means that, every time a local second-hand bookshop goes broke, or shuts its doors to go online only, I feel guilty. There was a time when my money was propping up these local bookshops, and there was a time when there were a lot of local bookshops for me to spread my money around. Now, there are few shops and those which are still open aren't getting any help from me.

And this is true of new books too. I probably buy more new books now than I have for years, decades even. Once I started lecturing I found that I needed a lot more new books—highly specialised academic titles which are not in any local bookshop—ones I could not simply wait to turn up at a good price. Books that I wouldn't find, even in academic bookshops like the old Oxford and Cambridge Bookshop in Sydney (now Abbeys). Some of these books I am still picking up second hand, but increasingly I am buying them new from Book Depository and Fishpond.

(For a while there, I was relying on Amazon, but their postage rates have become more and more painful—especially since there is no discount for multiple titles. Partly, I assume, because the whole system is automated. Now, it is Book Depository—which is post free—or, if I am in a hurry and they have it in stock, Fishpond.)

Not surprisingly, Book Depository was one of the sites mentioned recently as the reason why A&R and Boarders have gone belly-up. These big bookshops cannot compete with online sellers either on range or price—not by a long shot. And, for a specialist collector like me, places like A&R and Boarders had nothing to offer in terms of knowledge and advice either. Of course, I thought they were surviving on bestsellers and general-interest readers. It looks like they weren't! It looks like they needed me. Rats!

So, every other day a parcel arrived from overseas and every other day another local bookshop closed. And, once again, it was my fault and I feel guilty about it. But I won''t be changing my book-buying habits any time soon. Sorry.

Saturday, 12 February 2011

Cui bono?

My colleague in English at Monash, Dr Rebecca-Anne C. Do Rozario, asks in her blog (here): "Should academics blog?" and what is "the importance of - and drawbacks of - having an online presence"? I am not a big fan of questions including the word "should" but I liked some of her answers (they bring together information relating to your research, help communicate with students, and exert some control over your online presence), but I was particularly struck by this comment: "my blog … helps me to think about what I'm doing and what it means in terms of the wider community."

It set me thinking: cui bono? (To whose benefit, or for the benefit of whom, does his blog operate?).

On my Script and Print blog (here) I explain that "Blog is the contraction universally used for weblog, a type of website where entries are made (such as in a journal or diary), displayed in a reverse chronological order"—but my understanding is that early blogs were made up of links and summaries of online content, combined with journal or diary content, which acted as an aide-mémoire to remind the blogger of where they had been online and what they had found interesting: like a reading journal. That is, a log of web activity, like a beefed up session history on your web-browser.

Obviously, blogs have evolved, but for me this is still a major function of academic blogs. They bring together material that relates to your research, specifically the material you want to share. And this is where it gets interesting. Because many academics hold their positions and get promotions based on their publications. And for the most part, you only get published when you can convince an editor that you have something new to say. So, if you have discovered a previously unknown Shakespeare play, you wouldn't blog about it. You would make damn sure you wrote an article and had it published in high-profile peer-reviewed journal before you casually mentioned it in a blog-post.

And this is where Rebecca's second point comes in: you share material you think will be of use to your students, to other students and other academics. For the most part this constitutes casual reviews of what you are reading, thought relating to doing research and teaching, information on resources for research and teaching, or thoughts on and information about research topics you have either already published on, or do not intend to publish on. Oh, and griping about administrivia. (See below.)

Rebecca's third point was that a blog helps you exert some control over your online presence. Maintaining a blog is pretty liberating when your institutional web presence is heavily mediated and restrictive, and when you have to battle to have the smallest changes made to any information relating to you or the course you run.

Unfortunately, Monash does not encourage blogging; in fact it is not too much to say that they are obstructionist: they do as much as possible to discourage staff from establish a Monash blog, and they do as little as possible to publicise blogs maintained by staff elsewhere. The blogs that they do allow—and there were very few until quite recently—have to be approved. The application for contains an endless series of questions and warnings such as

Purpose of the blog (Mandatory field)
Intended/target audience (Mandatory field)
Intended no. of bloggers (Mandatory field)
Frequency of updates (Mandatory field)
Duration of blog (Mandatory field)

A series of moderators have to be approved ("staff member who is in charge of watching and approving blog content"), fees paid ("initial setup cost of $100 and an ongoing yearly fee for technical maintenance of $70"), and waivers signed ("ensure that the blog adheres complies with relevant ITS policies, state and government laws, statutes and guidelines as outlined in the Blog guidelines")

These guidelines were extraordinary. Each faculty has a distinct colour palette "and a modified sub-brand" which must be used. Images must have the following characteristics:

1. Strong, single images—not a collage.
2. Natural light and open space.
3. Incorporate people—not clip art.
4. Convey confidence and optimism—no negative imagery.
5. Natural images—no coloured lighting, contouring and coloured backgrounds.
6. Represent the university's key attributes—international, influential, innovative, engaged, substantial, dynamic, broad, accessible and full of integrity.

Oh, and they must be approved by the Marketing Division.

In earlier versions of this document it is specified that photos are to be taken "with a long lens that allows the foreground and the background to appear blurred—the main subject matter (the people) should be sharp or in focus." Photographers are also told to "avoid cliche compositions and images that are overly posed."

So, of course, what you actually get is a series of predictable and near-identical images of carefully posed groups of happy, aesthetically-pleasing students—representative of the desired cultural diversity—in well-lit open spaces with muted fore- and back-grounds: which is, of course, corporate clip art and very, very clichéd.

Not surprisingly, few individuals either want to or are capable of complying with these restrictions, so the few sites and blogs actually undertaken by my colleagues are elsewhere: on Blogger, Wordpress etc.

Elsewhere, apparently, universities have realised that they benefit from having all the academic creativity, and the diversity of opinion and self-representation, available under their umbrella. Which brings me to Rebecca's fourth point: "my blog … helps me to think about what I'm doing and what it means in terms of the wider community."

A blog is a way of communicating with the wider community, of articulating what you are doing as an academic in an interesting and accessible way, of engaging with, and in, ever-changing international intellectual debates. It helps present and prospective students understand your position on these debates and helps model how we expect our own students to engage in intellectual debate. In keeps you in touch with others, and others in touch with you.

It is hard to see how a university can be international, influential, engaged, dynamic and accessible without embracing the sort of communication facilitated by blogs like Rebecca's and—I hope—mine.

[UPDATED links 6 April 2026]

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Eliza Haywood Biography, Texts, Links etc

[The 1725 portrait of Haywood by James Parmentier
as it appears on a recent work of scholarship]

[For Eliza Haywood Texts, Links etc., see here. For items published by Haywood at the Sign of Fame, see here. For works falsely attributed to Haywood, see here. For William Hatchett links see here.]

The Wikipedia entry is here.

Ruth Facer's Chawton House biography here.

George Frisbie Whicher's The Life and Romances of Mrs. Eliza Haywood (1915) is downloadable as text here; as a pdf here.

Contemporary and Early Biographical notices of Haywood

1747: [John Mottley], "Mrs. Eliza Heywood" in "A Compleat List of All the English Dramatic Poets, and all the plays ever Printed …", in Thomas Whincop, Scanderbeg, or Love and Liberty. A Tragedy (London: W. Reeve, 1747), 246.

  This Authoress is now living, and made eminent by several Novels, called Love in Excess, etc. wrote by her, which were much approved of by those who delight in that Sort of Reading and had a great Sale; she is likewise distinguished by Mr. Pope in his Dunciad, who proposes her as one of the Prizes to be run for, in the Games instituted in Honour of the Inauguration of the Monarch of Dulness. And the note upon that Passage says, "This woman was Authoress of those most scandalous Books, called The Court of Caramania, and The New Utopia, etc.   She has published two Dramatic Pieces.
  I. The Fair Captive; a Tragedy, aced in the Year 1721, at the Theatre Royal in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, with no success.
  II. A Wife to be Let; a Comedy, acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury-Lane in the Year 1725, in the Summer-Season, in which the Author performed a Part herself, with little Success.
  Mrs Heywood was also concerned with another, one Mr. Hatchet, in turning Mr. Fielding's Tom Thumb into a Ballad Opera, which was set to Music and performed at the Little Theatre in the Hay-market, with good Success.


* * * * *

1749: William Rufus Chetwood, Mrs. Eliza Heywood in A General History of the Stage (1749), 57 note b (reprinted as The British Theatre (London, 1752), 171).


Mrs. Haywood has made herself eminent to the polite World by her writings; she is still alive. Her numerous Novels will be ever esteem'd by Lovers of that Sort of Amusement. She is likewise Authoress of three Dramatic Pieces … As the pen is her chief means of Subsistence, the World may find many Books of her Writing, tho' none have met with more Success than her Novels, more particularly her Love in Excess, [et cetera]. Her Dramatic Works have all died in their first visiting the World, being exhibited in very sickly Seasons for Poetry. Mr. Pope has taken her for his Goddess of Dulness in his Dunciad; but she need not blush in such good Company.

  ¶ This bibliographical part of this text reappeared here in Theatrical records: or, an account of English dramatic authors, and their works (London, 1756), 114; also here in An Apology for the Life of Colley Cibber … With an Account of the Rise and Progress of the English Stage, 4th ed (London, 1756), 282.

* * * * *

1764: David Erskine Baker, "Mrs. Eliza Heywood" in The Companion to the Play House, 2 vols. (London, 1764), v.2, Q1r, col.1-Q1v, col.2.

Heywood, Mrs. Eliza.—This Lady was perhaps the most voluminous Female Writer this Kingdom ever produced.—Her Genius lay for the most Part in the Novel Kind of Writing.—In the early part of her Life her natural Vivacity; her Sex's constitutional Fondness for Gallantry, and the Passion which then prevailed in the public Taste for personal Scandal, and diving into the Intrigues of the Great, guided her Pen to Works in which a Scope was given for great Licentiousness.—The celebrated Atlantis of Mrs. Manley served her for a Model, and the Court of Caramania, the New Utopia, and some other Pieces of a like Nature, were the Copies her Genius produced.—Whether the Looseness of the Pieces themselves, or some more private Reasons, provoked the Resentment of Mr. Pope against her, I cannot pretend to determine; but certain it is, that that great Poet has [col.2] taken some Pains to perpetuate her Name to immortal Infamy; having, in his Dunciad, proposed her as one of the Prizes to be run for in Games instituted in the Honour of the Inauguration of the Monarch of Dulness.—This, however, I own I cannot readily subscribe; for, although I should be far from vindicating the Libertinism of her Subjects, or the exposing with Aggravation to the Public the private Errors of Individuals, yet I think it cannot be denied that there is great Spirit and Ingenuity in Mrs Heywood’s Manner of treating Subjects, which the Friends of Virtue may perhaps wish she had never entered on at all; and that in those of her Novels where personal Character has not been admitted to take Place, and where the Stories have been of there own Creation, such as her Love in Excess, Fruitless Enquiry, [etc]. she has given Proofs of great inventive Powers, and a perfect Knowledge of the Affections of the human Heart.—And thus much must be granted in her Favour, that whatever Liberty she might at first give to her Pen, to the Offence either of Morality or Delicacy, she seemed to be soon convinced of her Error, and determined not only to reform, but even atone for it; since, in the numerous Volumes which she gave to the World toward the latter Part of her Life, no Author has appeared more the Votary of Virtue, nor are there any Novels in which a stricter Purity, or a greater Delicacy of Sentiment, has been preserved.—It may not, perhaps, be disagreeable sn [sic] this Place to point out what these latter Works were, as they are very voluminous, and are not perfectly known to every one. They may, there- [Q1v, col.1] fore, tho' somewhat foreign to the Purport of this Work, be found in the following List, viz.
   The Female Spectator, 4 vol.
   Epistles for the Ladies, 2 vol.
   Fortunate Foundlings, 1 vol.
   Adventures of Nature, 1 vol.
   Hist. of Miss Betsy Thoughtless, 4 vol.
   Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy, 3 v.
   Invisible Spy, 2 vol.
   Husband and Wife, 2 vol.
and a Pamphlet, entitled,
   A Present for a Servant Maid.
When young she dabbled in dramatic Poetry; but with no great Success.—None of her plays either meeting with much Approbation at the first, nor having been admitted to Repetition since.—Their titles were as follows:
  1. Fair Captive. T.
  2. Frederick Duke of Brunswick Lunenburgh. T.
  3. Opera of Operas (joined with Mr. Hatchett).
  4. Wife to be Let. Com.
She had also an Inclination for the Stage as a Performer which appears from her having acted a principle Part in her own Comedy of the Wife to be let; and her Name standing in the Drama [sic] of a Tragedy, entitled, The Rival Father, written by Mr. Hatchet, a Gentleman with whom she appears to have had a close literary Intimacy.
  As to the Circumstances of Mrs. Heywood’s Life, very little Light seems to appear; for, though the World seem'd inclinable, probably induced by the general Tenor of her earlier Writings, to affix on her the Character of a Lady of Gallantry, yet I have never heard of any particular Intrigues or Connections directly laid to her Charge; and have been credibly informed that, from a Supposition of some improper Liberties being taken with her [col. 2] Character after Death, by the Intermixture of Truth and Falsehood with her History, she laid a solemn Injunction on a particular Person, who was well acquainted with all the Particulars of it, not to communicate to any one the least Circumstance relating to her; so that probably, unless some very ample Account should appear from that Quarter itself, whereby her Story may be placed in a true and favourable Light, the World will still be left in the dark with Regard to it.—All I have been able to learn is, that her Father was in the Mercantile Way; that she was born at London; and that at the Time of her Death, which was, I think, in 1759, she was sixty three Years of Age.
  With Respect to her Genius and Abilities, her Works, which are very numerous, must stand in Evidence: but I cannot help observing, as to her personal Character, that I was told by one who was well acquainted with her for many Years before her Close of Life, that she was good-natured, affable, lively, and entertaining; and that, whatever Errors she might in any Respect have run into in her youthful Days, she was, during the whole Course of his Knowledge of her, remarkable for the most rigid and scrupulous Decorum, Delicacy, and Prudence, both with Respect to her Conduct and Conversation.


  ¶ In 1782, this text was lightly revised for a new edition of Biographica Dramatica … continued from 1764 to 1782 (London, 1782), 1.215a–16b (see here), particularly the final two paragraphs which add a reference to her being “on the stage in Dublin in the year 1715” and correct her date of death (from “I think, in 1759” to “on the 25th of February 1756”).

  ¶ In 1812, the text was lightly revised a third time for another new edition of Biographica Dramatica … brought down to the End of November 1811 … by Stephen Jones, 3 vols. (London, 1812), 1.319-21 (see here). This final edit adds that the authority for “her personal character”—which concludes the biography—was a person “who was well acquainted with her for many years before her close of life” and “that probably, unless some very ample account [of her life] should appear from that quarter itself, whereby her story may be placed in a true and favourable light, the world will still be left in the dark with regard to it.”

* * * * *

1786: The Lucubrations of Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq., A New Edition, with Notes [edited by Dr. John Calder and John Nichols from notes of Bishop Thomas Percy], 6 vols. (London: C. Bathurst [and 25 others], 1786), 1.367–69 (note to Vol. 1, p. 54: Tatler, no 6). This short biography appears to be the first publication of any biographical information, taken directly from manuscript letters in the British Museum.

It has been said, in a note on Tat. No 6. Vol. I. p. 54, that the real person alluded to there, and here, under the name of Sappho, was most probably Mrs. Elizabeth Heywood […]. Of this lady’s history, there is scarcely any thing in print, and now perhaps there is not much in remembrance. [368]
  The best account that has yet appeared of this lady, the curious may see, under her article, in the “Biogr. Dramatica,” Vol. I. p. 215, ed. 1782, 8vo. 2 vols. This annotator takes an opportunity here to add some particulars to it, on the authority of Mrs. E. Heywood herself, being extracts from three of her autograph undated letters to Dr. Birch, and Sir Hans Sloane, preserved in the British Museum.
  From one of these we learn, that this lady’s maiden name wat [sic] Fowler; that she was nearly related to Sir Richard of the Grange; that an unfortunate marriage reduced her to the necessity of depending on her pen, for the support of herself and two children, the eldest of them then no more than seven years of age. It appears that this undated letter, must have been written in the year 1721, for it accompanied the present of one of her unfortunate tragedies, the first of which made its appearance in that year. In another letter, presented with her translation of "La Belle Assemblée," after a profusion of compliments to her patron, sometimes not ill-turned, she mentions, likewise, the precarious condition of a person, whose only dependence is on the pen and makes use of the following words "The inclination I ever had for writing is now converted to a necessity, by the sudden deaths of a father and husband, at an age when I was little prepared to stem the tide of ill-fortune."
  The purpose of her third letter is, to request a subscription for some volumes of poems. "They are, she says, the productions of the best geniuses of the present age, and nothing will be contained in them, less becoming the closet of the philosopher and divine, than the fine gentleman." MSS. Birch, 4203, in folio, and MSS. Sloane, 4057.
  Mrs. Heywood was a ready, a various and an indefatigable writer; but scanty in common, and hard, is the bread that is earned with the pen. Pope, too, courted his Muse, to make it bitter: and bishop Warburton, out of compliment [369] to his friend, spit upon it. For all this, it or she might have been the better; whatever it was, we are told that she lived upon it, with good-humour and cheerfulness, to a considerable age; for, when she died in Feb. 1756, she was aged, it was said, about 63 years.
  This lady, in her youth, did not manage, it seems, with sufficient discretion to escape censure; but though she might have been imprudent, and betrayed into some false steps in that critical period, it does not appear that she was ever a person of dissolute manners, or a very vicious life. Her earliest publications are said to be justly censurable; but it is said, too, that she endeavoured to atone for them by many after-productions, written with a better-governed imagination, with laudable views, and the strictest regard to virtue. She out-lived, it is said, every thing frivolous or faulty in her character; and it is recorded, on the testimony of one who knew her well, and for many years, that she was affable, lively, good-natured, and entertaining to the last; and during the course of an acquaintance of many years, remarkable for an exemplary self-government, and the greatest propriety and delicacy, both of conduct and conversation. See B. D. ut supra. [i.e., Biogr. Dramatica]
  N.B. This annotator suspects, that the time of Mrs. Heywood’s appearance on the Irish theatre is antedated in the note on Tat., No. 6. vol. I. p. 54; for in the account above mentioned, which certainly underwent the examination of a very intelligent and accurate judge, it is said, that her appearance, as a performer, on the stage at Dublin, was in the year 1715.
  If this lady died in 1756, at the age of 63, she could not be the person alluded to under the name of Sappho in these papers, who was more probably Mrs. Behn, mentioned under this name, by Mrs. Manley, in her “New Atalantis,” to which the curious are referred for her history.


* * * * *

Contemporary Death notices of Haywood

Obit. in The Whitehall Evening Post 24–26 February 1756: 3c (here).
Obit. in The London Magazine 25 (February 1756): 92 (here).

NB: After all my pictures disappeared again I decided to give up on external hosts for large versions (1000px) of my image files and, for now on, will stick with the smaller images (500px), which Blogger is prepared to host.]
[UPDATED 23 March 2022]

Sunday, 18 July 2010

More on Modern Characters (1753)

In 2004, I rejected the attribution of Modern Characters (1753) to Eliza Haywood. I still do reject the attribution, but thanks to Google Books and the Internet Archive—once again—new information has come to light.

In my Bibliography of Eliza Haywood, under Ca.32 I said that "This novel is attributed to Haywood on the authority of a note in a Pickering & Chatto catalogue of 1934" which, in turn, credited the attribution to the writer and book collector James Crossley (1800–83).

The Pickering & Chatto catalogue of 1934 reads:

James Crossley, author and antiquarian, and a celebrated authority on old books, said that this was one of the scarcest and least known of the works of Mrs. Eliza Haywood. It has never been reprinted. It is not included amongst the list of her works given by Mr. G. F. Whicher in "The Life and Romances of Mrs. Haywood."

Since I was unable to find an earlier record of the attribution I suggested that this 1934 entry could have been "the first time the claim had been made in print"; certainly it was the authority for Andrew Block’s attribution of 1939, which has since been widely repeated. It turns out I was wrong, though I was on the right track. I said:

Crossley may have been indebted for the attribution to the misinterpretation of a note in the John Thomas Hope copy of Ab.60.7 The Female Spectator, which attributes authorship to Haywood and cites advertisements for it in ‘Modern Characters, 1753., vol. ii’.

Thanks to Google Books I can now see that the attribution has been in print since 1865, but I was right about the source being John Thomas Hope (d. 1854) of Netley Hall, Shrewsbury.

What I have found (here) is an entry in a Catalogue of a Collection of Early Newspapers and Essayists, Formed by the Late John Thomas Hope, Esq., and Presented to the Bodleian Library by the late Frederick William Hope (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1865), 80 (no. 290):

290. Modern Characters; Illustrated by Histories in Real Life, and address’d to the Polite World. 1753; 12mo.
    Apparently by the contributors to the Female Spectator.


And "the contributors to the Female Spectator" are identified elsewhere (p. 72, no. 255) as being "By Mrs. Eliza Haywood."

* * * * *

Another happy discovery on Google Books and the Internet Archive concerns the fate of James Crossley's library. This is one of the avenues that I pursued in order to discover more about this attribution. In 2004, I stated in a footnote:

P. N. Furbank and W. R. Owens, who dedicate a chapter to Crossley, mention the sale of his library in July 1884 and June 1885. The writer has not been able to determine whether this title was in Crossley’s library and whether his attribution of it to Haywood is recorded in the catalogue of his library or in his own copy of the books. Furbank and Owens (1988), pp.75–82.

I was not "able to determine whether this title was in Crossley’s library" because nobody in Australia had a copy of either of the sale catalogues of his library (Manchester, 12-19 May 1884; London, 11-20 June 1885) and it was a big ask—on top of all the other requests I was pestering librarians with—to go through an auction catalogue looking for this sort of information for me. After all, many auction catalogues are not arranged in a way that makes it easy to find a particular title. And so, even if I had asked, I could never be really sure that whoever I asked didn't miss the information I was after.

So, I put this search on my list of "things to do" next time I was overseas and wrote the footnote I have just quoted.

You might have guessed by now that Crossley’s library catalogue is now on Google Books, which means I have been able to search it myself, and word-search it with a higher-confidence than I would have ever had if I had quickly visually scanning the whole catalogue.

If this is what you've guessed you are both right and wrong. Yes, the catalogue(s) are on Google Books, there are six or seven copies of each of them in fact, but due to the utterly idiotic and irrational restrictions that Google place on the texts they has scanned—out of fear of infringing copyright—not one of these 1884 or 1885 catalogues are available to be viewed in Australia!

(Insert rant about Google being incapable of—or uninterested in—discovering the period that copyright covers in Australia, or Europe or anywhere else—other than the US—for that matter.)

As I might have mentioned before, I have become fairly adept at the use of free proxy servers to confuse Google into thinking that I am in the States (rather than in that mystery-world, Australia) and so in October 2009 I was able to view these catalogues and search for Eliza Haywood and Modern Characters.

What I discovered was exactly what I was looking for, hidden in a lot of twenty-three volumes of the second London sale of Crossley's library. Sotheby Wilkinson and Hodge … Catalogue of the Second Portion of the Library of Rare Books and Important Manuscripts of the Late James Crossley Esq. F.S.A. … (London: 11-20 June 1885), 154 (lot no. 1583):

1583 … —Haywood (Mrs.) Modern Characters: Illustrated by Histories in Real Life, 2 vol. 1583—

What I also discovered, however, was that Crossley also had (p. 126, lots 1290, 1291), a mixed set of Secret Histories, Novels and Poems (1725–42), The Secret History of the Present Intrigues of the Court of Caramania (1727), and A Spy on the Conjurer (1724).

Here is the evidence I was seeking, that Crossley had, in fact, attributed Modern Characters to Haywood, and that this attribution was published in the catalogue of his library in 1885. This 1885 catalogue pre-dates the 1934 Pickering & Chatto catalogue that I claimed was "the first time the [attribution] had been made in print." But, as we now know, it actually post-dates the John Thomas Hope Catalogue of 1865. Oh well. At least we know now.

* * * * *

When I went looking for the London and Manchester catalogues this morning I discovered that it is now no longer possible to view almost all of the Crossley catalogues on Google Books, even using a proxy server—even though this was possible as recently as last October. It seems that Google Books have actually increased their levels of paranoia and fear about copyright litigation.

As a consequence, it took me a very long time to discover—that is, after a very long and frustrating search I discovered—that the Manchester catalogue is now available via the Internet Archive (here; where it can be downloaded in pdf) and that there is only one London catalogue that can now be viewed on Google Books (here; thanks to bypasstheweb.com I was able to view and download this catalogue).

One final word on free proxy servers, which every antipodean scholar should be familiar with. A proxy server "acts as an intermediary for requests from clients seeking resources from other servers." Servers (i.e. Google) are pretty quick to get wise to the fact that another server (bypasstheweb.com) is acting as a proxy, and so proxy servers like bypasstheweb.com tend to get blocked pretty quickly.

This is why I cannot recommend a single proxy server. Instead, try here, which keeps an updated list of proxy servers in different countries. You might have to try a few before you find one that works (i.e., that allows you to view the page).

Saturday, 5 June 2010

Historic Lols

These might only be funny if you are marking essays, but worth a look here just in case. Here are some that amused me:











[UPDATE: 2 July 2016: After all my pictures disappeared (again) I decided to give up on external hosts for large versions (1000px) of my image files and, for now on, will stick with the smaller images (500px), which Blogger is prepared to host.]

Saturday, 13 February 2010

William Hatchett Texts, Links etc

[For Eliza Haywood Texts, Links etc, and criticism of the same, see here. For links specifically related to Haywood's life, contemporary biographical accounts etc, see here.]

My biography of William Hatchett is here (but NB The Literary Encyclopedia is a subscription site). The Wikipedia entry I created for Hatchett is here.

Facsimile Texts and Downloadable pdfs

Below are links to eighteenth-century editions of works by William Hatchett (the item numbers are from my Bibliography of Eliza Haywood (2004)) that are on Google Books, The Internet Archive, etc. This list is not complete, but I'll add items as I find them.

Dd.1.1a The Adventures of Abdalla (1729) [University of Michigan copy]
Dd.1.1b The Adventures of Abdalla, 2nd ed. (1730) [British Library copy]

Dd.2.1a Advice from a Mother to her Son and Daughter, trs. William Hatchett (1729) [British Library copy] NEW
Dd.2.1b A New-Year's-Gift, being, Advice from a mother to her son and daughter, trs. William Hatchett (Dubllin, 1731) [British Library copy] NEW

Dd.3.1 The Morals of Princes (1729) [University of Michigan copy]
Dd.3.1 The Morals of Princes (1729) [British Library copy]
Dd.3.1 The Morals of Princes (1729) [University of Madrid copy] ¶ This copy was not recorded in my Bibliography.

Dd.8.1 A Chinese Tale (1740)
Dd.8.6 A Court Lady's Curiosity … A Chinese Novel ("1783" [=1787]) [British Library copy]

Dd.10.1 A Remarkable Cause on a Note of Hand (1742)

Dd.11.3 The Sopha: A Moral Tale, vol.1 (1787) [British Library copy]
Dd.11.3 The Sopha: A Moral Tale, vol.2 ("1783" [=1787]) [British Library copy]

Works attributed to Hatchett

De.1.2 The Fall of Mortimer, [1st ed.] (1731) [University of California copy]
De.1.2 The Fall of Mortimer, 2nd ed. (1731) [Oxford University copy]

De.5 Remarks on an historical play, called, The Fall of Mortimer, 2nd ed. (1731) [British Library copy]

[Last updated 23 March 2022]

Friday, 31 July 2009

Eighteenth-Century Erotic Texts Online


Facsimile Texts and Downloadable pdfs

Below are links to eighteenth-century editions of works I include in my Checklist of Eighteenth-Century Erotica (2004) that are on Google Books, The Internet Archive, etc. There are very few online, but I'll add items as I find them.

[UPDATE: 14 July 2013 There has been a significant increase in the number of these texts online, largely due to the appearance of texts from the Remota collection at the Bavarian State Library in 2011, which I am now discovering. This collection includes most of the most significant works of eighteenth-century erotica known to survive. It also includes a few of the of the few most important late seventeenth-century works, translations of European erotica which constituted the hard core of pornographic texts available in the eighteenth-century. Despite the incongruity of including seventeenth-century works here, I am including them anyway because of their significance.

UPDATE: 12 May 2017 A further increase has occured to this list as works from the British Library's Private Case are appearing on Google Books; I have also recently updated a series of dead links, including the URL for John Wilkes, An Essay on Woman—one of the most pornographic pieces of from the period—which has changed three times since I added it!]

Michel Millot, The School of Venus, Or The Ladies Delight Reduced into Rules of Practice. Being the Translation of the French L’Escoles des filles. In Two Dialogues (1680)

The Dutch Riddle: Or, a Character of a Hairy Monster, Often Found in Holland, Etc. (n.d. [1706?]).

Ned Ward, The Pleasures of a Single Life: or, The miseries of Matrimony (1709)

Wit and Mirth; Or, Pills to Purge Melancholy. Vol. 1, 4th ed. (1714)
Wit and Mirth; Or, Pills to Purge Melancholy. Vol. 2, 3rd ed. (1712)
Wit and Mirth; Or, Pills to Purge Melancholy. Vol. 3, 3rd ed. (1712)
Wit and Mirth; Or, Pills to Purge Melancholy. Vol. 4, 2nd ed. (1709)

The Life Of the late Celebrated Mrs. Elizabeth Wisebourn, Vulgarly call’d Mother Wybourn ([1721]; rpt. 1885)

The Benefits and Privileges of Cuckolds (1728)

The Merry-Thought: Or, The Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany. Part 1, 3rd ed. (1731)
The Merry-Thought: Or, The Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany. Part 2. (1733)
The Merry-Thought: Or, The Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany. Part 3. (1734)
The Merry-Thought: Or, The Glass-Window and Bog-House Miscellany. Part 4. (1735)

The Ladies Delight (1740)

A Merry Allegorico-Botanico-Badinical Piece; Or, The Natural History of the Arbor Vitæ: Or the Tree of Life (1740)

["The Cabinet of Love" (5 poems)] in The Works Of the Earls of Rochester etc. (1718), vol.2, 193–223.
["The Cabinet of Love" (10 poems)] in The Works Of the Earls of Rochester etc. (1739), vol.2, 178–216. [Bavarian State Library copy]
["The Cabinet of Love" (10 poems)] in The Works Of the Earls of Rochester etc. (1739), vol.2, 178–216. [Lyon Public Library copy]
["The Cabinet of Love" (10 poems)] in The Works Of the Earls of Rochester etc. (1752), vol.2, 137–67. [National Library of the Netherlands copy]
["The Cabinet of Love" (10 poems)] in The Works Of the Earls of Rochester etc. (1752), vol.2, 137–67. [Ghent University copy]

The School of Venus: Or, The Lady's Miscellany, 2nd. ed. (1739)

The Tryal of a Cause for Criminal Conversation, Between Theophilus Cibber … and William Sloper (1739)

Nicolas Chorier, A Dialogue Between A Married Lady And A Maid (1740)

The Secret History Of Betty Ireland. Who was trepann’d into marriage at the age of fourteen (1740; rpt. ca. 1788)

The Secret History Of Betty Ireland. Who was trepann’d into marriage at the age of fourteen (1740; rpt. ca. 1790)

William Hatchett, A Chinese Tale (1740)
William Hatchett, A Court Lady's Curiosity … A Chinese Novel (1741) NEW

The Potent Ally; Or, Succours from Merryland, 2nd ed. (1741). ¶ Contains three poems in praise of condoms.

A Voyage to Lethe (1741; rpt. 1885) [University of Michigan copy]
A Voyage to Lethe (1741; rpt. 1885) [Jack Horntip copy; OCR text and PDF]

Thomas Stretser, A New Description of Merryland, 8th ed. (1741?)
Thomas Stretser, A New Description of Merryland, 10th ed. (1742).

Eliza Haywood, Ab.56.3 The Sopha: A Moral Tale, vol.1 (1742; rprt. 1787) NEW
Eliza Haywood, Ab.56.3 The Sopha: A Moral Tale, vol.2 ("1783" [=1787]) NEW

The Machine: Or, Love's Preservative (1744)

John Cleland, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure (1749), vol. 1., vol. 2. [1st ed. at EuGMu]
Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure (1749; rpt. 1888) [Jack Horntip copy; OCR text and PDF]
John Cleland, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure (1749) [Project Gutenberg EBook]
John Cleland, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure ("1749") [a reprint edition], vol. 1. [EuGMu]
John Cleland, Nouvelle traduction de woman of pleasure, ou fille de joie … Avec figures (1793) [illustrated translation], vol. 1., vol. 2. [EuGMu]

Les Bijoux Indiscrets. Or, The Indiscreet Toys (1749), vol.1, vol.2. [Oxford University copy]
Les Bijoux Indiscrets. Or, The Indiscreet Toys (1749), vol.1 only. [Bavarian State Library copy]

The Harlot's Progress: Being the Life of the Noted Moll Hackabout. In Six Hudibrastick Canto's, 6th ed. (1753).

A New Atalantis, for the Year One Thousand Seven Hundred and Sixty (1760) [pdf file of text]

John Henry Meibomius, The Use of Flogging in Venereal Affairs (1761; rpt. 1872) [University of Toronto copy; temporarily(?) unavailable]
John Henry Meibomius, The Use of Flogging in Venereal Affairs (1761; rpt. 1872) [New York Public Library copy]

John Wilkes, An Essay on Woman (1772; ca. 1763). ¶ two copies bound together; the first is a spurious edition, printed in red; the second is genuine, and the earliest known.

Harris's List of Covent-Garden Ladies (1765)
Harris's List of Covent-Garden Ladies (1783)
Harris's List of Covent-Garden Ladies (1786)
Harris's List of Covent-Garden Ladies (1787) [Bavarian State Library; Wellcome Library]
Harris's List of Covent-Garden Ladies (1788) [Project Gutenberg ebook]
Harris's List of Covent-Garden Ladies (1789)
Harris's List of Covent-Garden Ladies (1793) [transcript]
Harris's List of Covent-Garden Ladies (1794)

The Gentleman's Bottle-Companion (1768)

The Pleasures of a Single Life; Or, The Miseries of Matrimony ([1770?])

The Covent-Garden magazine; or, Amorous repository, vol.1 (1772), vol.2 (1773), vol.3 (1774), vol.4 (1775)

Ranger’s Impartial List of the Ladies of Pleasure in Edinburgh (1775) [transcript]

The Frisky Songster (1776)

Trials for Adultery, or, The History of Divorces, vol. 1 (1779)
Trials for Adultery, or, The History of Divorces, vol. 2 (1779)
Trials for Adultery, or, The History of Divorces, vol. 3 (1779)
Trials for Adultery, or, The History of Divorces, vol. 4 (1780)
Trials for Adultery, or, The History of Divorces, vol. 5 (1780)
Trials for Adultery, or, The History of Divorces, vol. 6 (1780)
Trials for Adultery, or, The History of Divorces, vol. 7 (1780)

"Ned Ward Junior", The Comforts of Matrimony; or Love's Last Shift (1780)

The new Covent-Garden Register; being Secret Memoirs of some celebrated Ladies of P******e of the present Time ([1783])

Madame Birchini's Dance (1783; rpt. 1872) [University of Toronto copy; temporarily(?) unavailable]

Exhibition of Female Flagellants, part 1. (1784; rpt. 1872) [University of Toronto copy; temporarily(?) unavailable]
Exhibition of Female Flagellants, part 2. (1785; rpt. 1872) [University of Toronto copy; temporarily(?) unavailable]

The Nightly Sports Of Venus; Or, The Pleasures of Coition. With The Humourous Tale Of The Three Monks ([1785?])

Lady Bumtickler's Revels (1786; rpt. 1872) [University of Toronto copy; temporarily(?) unavailable]

Sublime of Flagellation (1787; rpt. 1872) [University of Toronto copy; temporarily(?) unavailable]

Francis Grose, A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, [1st ed.] (1785)
Francis Grose, A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, 2nd ed. (1788)
Francis Grose, A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, 3rd ed. (1796)

The Festival of Love; Or, A Collection Of Cytherean Poems, 3rd ed. ([1791])
The Festival of Love; Or, A Collection Of Cytherean Poems, 4th ed. ([1793])

Robert Burns, Merry Muses of Caledonia (1799; rpt. 1965)

[UPDATED 4 February 2018]