The Enemies of Books

This is a "book about protecting books" written over a century ago, and it is unexpectedly enjoyable. Blades was both a printer and a book collector; he does not speak in generalities about fire and flood but cites case after case of collections burned or mildewed; he does not merely frown at bookworms but carefully keeps them in small boxes, lays out a few pages of Caxton imprints to observe their feeding habits—and when the worm fails to thrive, he writes its obituary. This earnest, bookish folly is exactly what is most moving about lovers of books. The book is short, with a clear ten-chapter structure, moving from fire, water, gaslight and heat to dust, ignorance, bookworms, binders, collectors and children. It can serve as an introductory reader on the Western history of book misfortune and document preservation, and also as a leisurely, elegant essay on "the difficulty of loving books." For today's readers, air conditioning, dehumidifiers, insect repellents and fireproof cabinets have replaced many of the book's homespun methods, but the warning that "the great enemies of books never die" still holds: the real enemy is often our own negligence.