Learning to Curse in Russian

Bondar's Simplified Russian Method sounds like a tame linguistic instruction manual. And it is. But Kenneth Roberts (1890-1972), a reporter and historical novelist who received an honorary degree from Dartmouth in 1934, wanted to learn a different kind of Russian.

In the front of Roberts's personal copy of Bondar's book, there are several taped-in notes. Each one contains some variation on the phrases "Don't let the bastards get you down" and "They're all a bunch of bastards." The notes contain the Cyrillic script for these two phrases and a pronunciation guide.

During World War I, Roberts served as a member of the Siberian Expeditionary Force. Was this part of his training? How he kept up his spirits in the field? The rest of the book is curiously unmarked.

To see the Roberts copy of Bondar's Simplified Russian Method, ask for Roberts Library PG2111 .B65 1917. We also have a Kenneth Roberts manuscript collection (ML-25), and have written about Roberts in the Library Bulletin, discussing his nickname "the irascible Mr. Roberts" -- which these notes seem to bear out!

Binding Matters

It is just so tacky when the books on your shelf don't have the same aesthetic. That Penguin paperback looks so odd next to the Harlequin romance, and they both clash with the hardbound Harry Potter book you stayed up until midnight to buy when you were 12 years old. Such a fate never worried discerning 18th and early 19th century book buyers--they just made sure to get the proper binding right from the start.

Until a few decades into the 19th century, most books could be purchased sporting a simple, temporary paper wrapper or just in printing sheets, folded and side stitched. The buyer would then have a binding put on to match his or her taste and to express the value he or she placed on the book. If the book did not get bound, it usually fell apart or was badly damaged.

That's why we were so excited to receive a gift of a remarkable survival: The Beauties of Religion, by Elijah Fitch and printed by John Brown in Providence in 1789. The book is still in its original signatures, stacked up and casually held together with a simple side stitch. Oddly, it seems like it has been read--the pages have all been opened, and there are signs that the pages have been turned. Why wouldn't someone get it bound, or at least put on a study wrapper? We don't know, but we are happy to have such a  great example.

To see it, ask for Rare PS744.F4 1789. For another good example see our Acts and Laws of the State of New-Hampshire from 1788.

Wonder Woman for President, 1972

When we look back at major milestones in Dartmouth's history, we often get caught up in the local conditions that spurred the changes and forget about the broader cultural context. Dartmouth's decision to admit women is a case in point. The discussions we see almost always revolve around the campus response, the difficulties the first generations of women faced, and the impact on campus life. But, of course, the decision to make Dartmouth a co-ed institution occurred at a time when the nation as a whole was wrestling with issues raised by second-wave feminism.

That national context was one of the reasons we were thrilled to receive a mint condition inaugural issue from 1972 of Ms., the magazine that quickly became the primary venue for mainstream feminist thought.  Just a month later the first class of women enrolled at Dartmouth. The 1972 local news in the D resonates in new ways when juxtaposed with this new voice of a national movement. But also, the cover stories speak to the continued social and political battles of today: "Wonder Women for President," "Money for Housework," and "Gloria Steinem on How Women Vote."

Come see it, and the curious mix of ads it contains (Coppertone wasn't too sure how to speak to the feminist movement!) by asking for Rare HQ1101.M55 Vol 1, No.1, 1972.

Malcolm X at Dartmouth

On January 26, 1965, Malcolm X visited campus at the invitation of the Undergraduate Council to offer Dartmouth students an alternative viewpoint to Martin Luther King, Jr. and James Farmer, both of whom had visited campus in the recent past. As you might expect, Malcolm X stirred up controversy with his lecture in Spaulding Auditorium and extended interview on the campus radio station, WDCR.

The D reported that Malcolm X promised "A Long, Bloody Summer," and a series of editorials and letters to the editor alternated expressions of fear, hostility and admiration. The D editorial board was unimpressed. They defended his right to speak on campus, but criticized his views: "His arguments were often irrational and his solutions, based on the ends to be achieved, often ignored the implications of the means to accomplish the ends."

Richard Joseph '65 offered a rebuttal to the editorial board under the disclaimer "THIS COLUMN DOES NOT NECESSARILY REPRESENT OR REFLECT THE POLICIES OF THIS PAPER" and letters to the editor supported Malcolm X. Just a few weeks later, Malcolm X was murdered. Dartmouth students, so recently debating his ideas, had to confront Malcolm X's life, death, and ideas on a personal level.

Come in and read the whole story in the D on our open reference shelves. To read the transcript of the WDCR interview, ask for the Malcolm X vertical file.

A Painful Cure

While researching early pharmaceuticals and medicines for a class, we came across a pamphlet bound in creased yellow wallpaper. Inside, it details a "Cure for Venereal Disease."

The cure includes syringing the penis with a mixture of flax seed, tea, and milk, before progressing to a mixture of "white vitriol" and "rain water." It sounds like a painful cure to a painful disease ....

There are also various warnings about food and drink. In the first week, you can drink a "very moderate quantity" of gin, but cannot drink rum -- "Drink no rum" -- or eat "very little salt pork."

During the class, we discussed how the lack of context changes our evaluations of the item. One student said that if it were made in the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries, it would seem more medically valid, whereas if it were from the nineteenth or twentieth centuries, he would view it as folkloric or somehow medically dubious.

Hervey Fisher was a Dartmouth Medical School graduate of the class of 1818. He became a practicing physician and died in 1847. This pamphlet isn't dated, and I'm curious whether it was produced while he was a student or a practicing doctor. Is a prescription for a patient? Notes from a lecture? The wear on the front cover seems to imply that it was used or carried, making me lean towards the former. If you have any theories, let us know!

To see the "Cure," ask for MS 002124. We also have a booklet of Hervey's lecture notes on surgery, chemistry, theory and practice of medicine, and "natural philosophy" from his time at Dartmouth (MS 002364).

Merrill's Circulating Library

While digging around in the book collections for materials to support the English Department's "1850s America" class this term, we stumbled on an 1852 catalog for Merrill's Circulating Library in Concord, New Hampshire. The class is reading Susan Warner's The Wide, Wide World this week and Nathaniel Hawthorne's The House of Seven Gables next week, so we had to check the catalog. Sure enough, Merrill's had both books available for rental at six cents per week per volume.

But what was odd was how the books were classified. The House of Seven Gables was reasonably in the "Novels and Romances" section, but The Wide, Wide World landed at the end in the "Miscellaneous" section with books like Poe's The Raven and other Poems, Charles Lamb's Essays of Elia, The Blues Laws of Connecticut and other States,  Sam Slick, and The Pirate's Own Book.

Maybe it was the theme? Perhaps Warner's moral and social commentary trumped her plot and pushed the book out of the "novel" classification. Did Merrill's think readers were turning to Susan Warner for something different than when they picked up The House of Seven Gables, Agnes Grey or Last of the Mohicans?  One thing is for sure, Wide, Wide World, as a two volume book, cost twice as much to read as the single volume House of Seven Gables.

We have the first editions of both The House of Seven Gables (Rare PS1861.A1 1851) and The Wide, Wide World (Rare PS3155 W6 1851). You can see what else was at Merrill's Circulating Library by asking for N.H. Imprints, Concord 1852e. For a couple other posts that mention lending libraries, see The Triple Headed Monster, and Mathematical Principles.

Envelope of Death

Most of the time we work with old things here in Rauner. Sometimes it can get a little eerie, because the people who made so many of our books and documents are no longer with us, and, as one astute archivist once said, "their papers really are their last remains." We are pretty hardened to it, but the tales of woe and death sometimes get to us.

This week we opened up an envelope stuffed with postcards from the early 1900s. All of the cards were written to William M. Chase, Class of 1858 and College Trustee, from Samuel C. Beale, Secretary to the Class of 1858. Each card simply records the death of another classmate. Most are terse:

Grafton 30 Sept 1911
Classmate Livingston died at Peacham, Vt in Aug 1911.
Sam'l C Beane

or

Classmate Hayes. B.S. died Sept 28 1915 at his summer home in Madbury, N.H.
S. C. Beane
Sec 1858

A few show a little more emotion:

Our beloved classmate Chadwick died at his home Sat 11 of pneumonia. Funeral tomorrow, Tuesday. I have been asked to take part in the services.
Sam'l C. Beane
Grafton 13 March 1911

The matter-of-fact reportage of these and the sheer number is profoundly odd. Reported by one classmate, and saved as a packet of death by another, as each measured their days.