Tuesday, April 8, 2014

I’m going to devote this post to looking at a few examples of printing from the Aldine Press. Aldine editions of classical literature were both essential for the dissemination of ancient learning during the Renaissance and extremely innovative in terms of the changes they brought to typography and the physical form of the book. Besides the fact that many important classical texts initially saw print as one of his Aldines, Aldus Manutius (1449-1515) was the first printer to issue reliable Greek and Latin texts in the affordable octavo size, allowing learning to reach a much wider audience than previously possible. Even more famously, italic fonts were first invented and commissioned for these editions. There is no question that Renaissance humanism would not have had the same influence without the existence of these famous books, and, in a sense, all affordable editions of classical texts, whether Penguin Classics or from the Loeb Classical Library, are heirs to the tradition established by Manutius.



Printed in Venice from 1515-16 and edited by the Venetian humanist, poet, and diplomat, Andrea Navagero (1483-1529), this three volume set is the second Aldine edition of Ovid’s works. Unfortunately, it is bound in nineteenth-century black morocco with red leather doublures—a beautiful but not contemporaneous binding.



Ovid, of course, is best known for his Metamorphoses, a poem in fifteen books featuring narratives primarily drawn from classical legend in which characters undergo miraculous transformations and transfigurations. Yet Ovid also composed collections of sophisticated love elegies called the Amores, a collection of epistles in elegiac couplets in the voice of famous women called the Heroides, a manual on the arts of seduction called Ars Amatoria,  and a poetic account of the Roman religious calendar known as the Fasti. Like his contemporaries (or near contemporaries) Horace and Virgil, Ovid lived during the transformative reign of the first Emperor of Rome, Augustus. However, the licentiousness, eroticism, and rebellious nature of his work contrasts sharply with the high-minded seriousness characteristic of the Augustan period. At odds with the severe morality inculcated by the Emperor, Ovid fell out of favor and was banished to Tomis on the Black Sea where the famously cosmopolitan and urbane poet spent the reminder of his life in miserable exile.



The second item I want to show here is one the jewels of the Center’s collection. This Aldine 1503 Euripides is the first collected edition of the dramatist’s works, the editio princeps for many of the great tragedian’s works.




Among the most significant dramatists in classical antiquity, Euripides was one of the three great tragedians of ancient Athens, along with Sophocles and Aeschylus.Within classical tragedy, Euripides is famous for depicting female characters and other figures that were frequently marginalized by Athenian society. Because of this emphasis, he is often thought of as the classical tragedian that has the most to say to modern society. Euripides composed between ninety-two and ninety-five plays, of which eighteen or nineteen (the play Rhesus is contested) have survived, a transmission made possible in part because of this edition. The title page of this Aldine claims that it contains sixteen plays, but there are actually seventeen, with Hercules Furens added at the end of the second volume. Electra, one of the dramatist’s most important works, unfortunately isn’t included here (Electra’s editio princeps wouldn’t be printed until 1545). Like the Ovid shown above, this book is bound nineteenth-century black morocco with red leather doublures.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

We’ve had an extraordinarily busy February at the Renaissance Center, and I’ve been pressed for time to compose new posts. But things have finally slowed down here, and I am going to use this space to tell you about one of my favorite items in the Center’s collection, our 1609 edition of the works of John Jewel.  This is relatively common book, but its interesting marginalia has allowed me to trace some of its provenience back to the early seventeenth century.   

 John Jewel (1522-1571), the Bishop of Salisbury, was an influential theologian, famous for codifying and defending the doctrines of the Anglican Church. His most significant work, the 1562 Apology for the Church of England is both a statement of faith and a strong rebuttal to those who challenged the legitimacy of the Anglican Church. Jewel’s writings were first collected and published in a folio edition in 1609 when Richard Bancroft ordered his Apology to be placed in all Anglican churches. The Center’s copy of this edition (our collection actually holds multiple copies of this work in addition to the volume you see on this blog) is in contemporary calf with elaborate blind tooling on its cover. The volume’s title page is inscribed with, "This book belongs to ye parish of Reepham, Ita testor Sam. Gardiner rectr,” letting readers know that this copy was indeed at one time chained to a lectern.

Using this marginalia as a starting point, I looked through some of records available at the Center and discovered that the fifth volume of Edmund Farrer’s The Church Heraldry of Norfolk records a tombstone that reads, “Here lyth ye Body of Samuel Gardiner, Gent., late Rector of Reepham who departed this life the 16th day of May, aged 65.” This book clearly once belonged to one of the three historic churches of Reepham, Norfolk, institutions of worship that are still in use today.  This book’s marginalia, then, provides a glimpse at how it was used and read close to the date of its publication.

Friday, January 31, 2014

Ben Jonson Folios II: Constructing Authorship

In 1616, Ben Jonson, along with publisher William Stansby, produced the first folio of English plays, embarking on a bold act of self-promotion, establishing Jonson as a kind of authority figure over all his work—a status previously reserved in the Renaissance for classical and sacred authors. The folio format itself, a medium for works meant to endure such as bibles, is just one of many ways in which Jonson claims authority. It is not difficult to see why Jonson ventured down this daring path: Jonson was himself daring. In his early life, he apprenticed as a bricklayer, was eventually educated at Westminster School by the great classical scholar William Camden, served in the military in what is today Belgium, defeated a Spanish shoulder in mortal combat, killed a fellow actor in a duel, pleaded the clergy to escape execution, and was involved in numerous public disputes with fellow actors, writers, and censors. Jonson, indeed, had a ferocious temperament and weighty convictions. And it was these two characteristics, coupled with his fervent respect and admiration for classics such as Horace, Ovid, and Virgil, that manifested within Jonson the need to prove that all his work was just that, work, in line with the classical authors he admired so much. Framing plays in this way, as works, was a new, even radical, way of understanding English drama and those who created it.

William Camden: Jonson's teacher
(Engraving taken from the Center's collection)

This dedication to Camden serves the dual purpose of thanking Jonson's teacher while also advertising the author's learnedness
Jonson was deeply implicated in the commercial theater of London, but was also uncomfortable with the ramifications of his involvement.This separation and connection to the theater of the English Renaissance, as well as Jonson’s claim that he is a poet of worth, is highlighted immediately in the magnificent, dignified, and elaborate portrait of Jonson in the frontispiece of all three folios.  Looking at even the last posthumous edition of Jonson’s works (1692), a clear link exists between Jonson and the classics he venerates. Surrounding his portrait, written in Latin, are the printed words, “Vera Effigies Doctissimi Poetarvm Anglorvm Ben: Iohnsoni,” translating to, “The True Image of the Learned English Poet Ben Jonson.” The addition of the learned language Latin, as well as the prestigious claim to be a “learned English poet,” illustrates Jonson’s own understanding of himself as an artist, more than a mere playwright, worthy of the same respect and admiration Renaissance culture gave to authors like Virgil. In the portrait, Jonson is resplendent in outstanding, expensive clothes, and crowned with a laurel, which in ancient Greece was awarded to the winner of weighty poetry competitions, a vibrant sign of status. The laurel and its link to classical authors, the magnificent clothes, and the Latin are by no means accidental additions, but rather judiciously planned elements creating within the engraving an image of importance, a perception Jonson hopes his readers will also accept. Jonson and his publishers present the author as a historical presence, attaining a status high above his bricklaying background, a figure transcending the culturally accepted characteristics of the early modern literary world. 
Frontispiece of 1692 folio
The 1616 folio’s title page specifically excludes the theaters of contemporary London while aligning the author with the concept of theater itself. To the left of the book’s title is the word “PLAVSTRM”- carved with an image of Thepis driving a pageant wagon, and on the right, labeled “VISORIVM,” a Greek chorus in a round auditorium is depicted. Directly above the page is a Roman theater, marked ‘THEATRVM.” London’s contemporary theaters of the Blackfrairs, Globe, or Fortune are not to be seen. Contemporary theaters do, however, show up later within the Folio. At the end of selected plays, Jonson lists the acting groups who first performed the plays in question. Listing the theaters of London was an unusual technique in the Renaissance, especially for Jonson, and particularly in a folio, but it illustrates a very important point: by listing these groups Jonson subscribes to no single theater group; instead, Jonson is an employer of actors as opposed to an employee. 
A play quarto compared to a folio
The folios are much more than a random collection of material; rather, they are entities unto themselves. Jonson, in the editing process, was diligent and judicious in his actions, including within his plays’ dedications, arguments, character lists, and extensive scene breaks. Alongside Stansby, Jonson edited and corrected the majority of proofs in the printing house, constantly making minor changes to spelling and punctuation, elements printers of the period often ignored. This was of extraordinary importance to Jonson and Stansby; they were assiduous even in their use of italics and capitalization to achieve the highest degree of consistency possible. For instance, headers are capitalized and character names in plays are italicized. During the lengthy printing process, over 2,500 changes were made to the folio. Jonson’s interest in these changes went far beyond simple grammatical correction; rather, for Jonson, the spelling and preciseness of his words were essential for the overall meaning of his plays, the aspect Jonson considered most important in his work. 
From the second edition of Jonson's folio
After over a year of toil, Jonson’s folio, containing an extensive 1,015 pages, 9 plays, 2 works of non-dramatic poetry, 13 masques, and 6 entertainments, was published in 1616. Posthumous editions followed the example Jonson established, as Richard Bishop and Richard Meighan, the printers of the 1640-1 texts, and Thomas Hodgkin, the printer of the 1692 folio, attempt to stay as close both conceptually and aesthetically as possible to his 1616 folio. This is evident in not only the style of the folios, the careful preciseness of words, headers, italics, and capitalization, but also in the inclusion of dedications for Bartholomew Fair, The Devil is an Ass, and The Staple of News, that Jonson wrote before he died. Jonson’s involvement in the editing process of this lengthy folio further illustrates his belief in the substantial merit of his work.
The table of contents of the 1692 folio
The folios were a success, selling well, and establishing what Jonson wanted most, a historical legacy. In the same year his first folio was published, Jonson became Poet Laureate, receiving a royal pension. The success of the Jonson folio also established a market for folio texts of English dramas, paving the way for Shakespeare’s 1623 posthumous first folio. Because of this success, Jonson’s fate is irrevocably involved with the consumerism he despised; however, by using print, he gained the patronage he desired. It is in his folio, and authorial possession of his plays, that he also takes possession of all his work, molding it from ephemera to intellectual property. As Joseph Lowenstein describes in his book Ben Jonson and Possessive Authorship, “Jonson imagines (constructs, yearns toward) nothing less than what modern law recognizes (constructs, imagines) as the moral right of authorship.” Jonson’s folios clearly contribute to how he and his society constructed authorship, and possibly more importantly, the way in which Jonson constructed authorship plays a noteworthy historical role in our contemporary construction of the concept of authorial authority.
The title page of the Center's 1692 folio




Ben Jonson Folios

In the next few posts, I explore Jonson’s folio publications, showing that this audacious act of self-promotion is an attempt by Jonson to claim authority over all his work. Also, I argue that the 1616 folio, and by extension the folios of 1640-1 and 1692, are in one sense separated from the world of the public theater and yet inevitably connected to it. The folios produced posthumously, and the additions they published for the first time, add to this duel sense of connection to and separation from the public theater of the Renaissance. Although Jonson died years before the 1640 folio was produced, an examination of the folios of 1616, 1640-1, and 1692 illustrate that his agency remains fairly intact due to the publisher's use of the 1616 folio as a model for both posthumous editions.  

The Renaissance Center's collection contains two Jonson folios printed in the seventeenth century: one from 1640 and another from 1692


Tuesday, January 28, 2014

A Quarto Play: The First Edition of The Old Law, or A New Way to Please You

The Renaissance Center contains a large collection of items related to the commercial theater of sixteenth and seventeenth century London.  The book displayed here, for instance, is the first edition of The Old Law, or A New Way to Please You, a tragicomedy attributed to Thomas Middleton, William Rowley, and Philip Massinger on the book's title page. Though this quarto was initially published “for Edward Archer, at the signe of the Adam and Eve, in Little Britaine, 1656,” textual scholars have dated the play’s composition back about four decades before this publication. The exact nature of Massinger’s involvement has been disputed, and the play may have been written by Middleton and Rowley between 1614-18, and only later revised by Massinger for a different performance by the King’s Men.



Aside from the historical and literary significance of the play itself, this volume is famous for  containing "An exact and perfect catalogue of all the plaies that were ever printed,” a listing thought to be one of the earliest attempts to catalog the works of the English Renaissance theater (unfortunately, this catalog is missing from our copy, though it has been supplied in facsimile).  Another notable detail about this publication is how carelessly it was printed. The copy errors on page 64, for example, are easy to spot. 


Plays were important enough to catalog, it seems, but the carelessness of this edition may also point to the fact that the cultural space inhabited by commercial theater was still in flux during the time of this volume’s publication.  

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The post following this will continue to showcase our collection of works related to London’s commercial theater. Alex Bloom, an intern at the Center and a student at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, will discuss a selection of Ben Jonson’s folios, detailing how these publications relate and contribute to the early modern construction of authorship. 

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Welcome to the official blog for the Massachusetts Center for Renaissance Studies at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst.  The Renaissance Center is a locus for the study of the culture and achievements of the Renaissance period, one that contributes to the field of Renaissance studies through research, teaching, and outreach to the University of Massachusetts campus, the Five College community of the Pioneer Valley, and beyond. This blog will be concerned with our collection, a teaching library which includes 25,000 books and monographs related to the English and Continental Renaissance, including nearly a 1,000 hand pressed books printed between 1400-1700. Our library and special collections draw a diverse assortment of scholars and students, ranging from academics with international reputations researching projects to undergraduates from the Five College Community simply looking for an opportunity to handle early modern printed books.  It is my hope that this blog will be an informal and democratic space in which these students and scholars can discuss how objects in our collection relate to their research, explain which books in our collection interest them and why, or even just a place where people connected to the Center can write about topics and questions our library has helped them pursue. Just as importantly, I want this blog to demonstrate to readers the kinds of resources available at the Center, making them feel welcome into our vibrant scholarly community.

--David Katz

Curator at the Massachusetts Center for Renaissance Studies, Umass Amherst