SAVED BY THE ARCHIVE

If you think book antiquarians have no use for the digital world, consider my anecdote this morning. Among the most valuable books in my library is a first edition of Winston Churchill’s autobiographical My Early Life: A Roving Commission, published in 1930 by Butterworth, London Ltd. I bought it from an antiquarian over a decade ago when I was compiling Churchill’s written works. I inspect old books, especially scarce ones, extensively. Oversights do happen, however, both on my end and on the sellers’. Usually, these blights that slip by are discovered upon reading the volume.

This morning, however, I had quite a shock. I happened to pull out My Early Life in preparation as it is one of the upcoming volumes on my to-read list. To explain my alarm, which evolved into panic and then dismay, it is necessary to describe the book. Inserted sporadically throughout the pages of the text are several matte sheets containing illustrations, mostly of Churchill in his younger years. These illustrative inserts are not numbered so if one of them follows page 140, for instance, the page after the matte insert would be 141. In between a few pages, though, I saw not a full matte sheet of photographs but rather a thin matte strip between pages of text. This occurred in two or three spots. My logical conclusion: the matte sheets had been removed by a vandal at some point in the book’s life! I had been sold a rare volume with missing pages, whether the sellers did this knowingly or not mattered little some ten years later. 

My heart began to race, this was a scarce volume that replacing, if possible at all, would be expensive. As several years had passed since the purchase there was no way of me returning or exchanging the volume with the vendors. Here is where panic mode set in and I quickly began searching Ebay and Abebooks. Panic did not last long before it was replaced with dismay. Later editions of My Early Life (less valuable) were selling for hundreds of dollars while first editions in poor condition were surpassing $1,000. I could not justify such an impulse buy and yet I was crestfallen over a damaged rare book.

I don’t know what inspired my next move. Maybe it was just my sullen curiosity to see what was in those missing sheets or maybe something told me not to give up just yet. Whatever it was I turned to the Internet Archive, a database of digital scans (including covers) of pretty much any book imaginable. There are several editions of older titles and finding a page-by-page scan of the first edition of My Early Life was relatively easy. When I scrolled down to the spot where I believed the matte insert had been ripped out of my physical copy of the book I could hardly believe what I saw. There was no insert there! Ever cautious, however, I refrained from rejoicing. Perhaps, I thought, the matte inserts were not included with the digital scan anyway. So, I picked up my physical copy and found a spot in the book in which there was an illustrative insert and when I matched that spot with the digital scan of the book that page of illustrations was present. Now I began to feel cause for optimism. I still wanted to be sure, however, so I found one of the other few spots in the physical book where a matte stem seemed to indicate that there should have been a sheet of illustrations and matched them with the digital book and once again saw that there was no sheet in the digital book either. This was the news I wanted but thought impossible. There never had been matte inserts in between those specific pages in my copy of the book. The book is complete and sound. The matte stem that made me believe there had been a sheet there is likely a mere printing anomaly.

My relief can only be understood by fellow bibliophiles, but I am still puzzled at by what impulse I turned to the Internet Archive. What I know for sure is that it saved me from deciding between two unpleasant options, live with a damaged volume or pay a hefty sum for a replacement. There wasn’t a need for either one.