America’s Library: The Story of the Library of Congress 1800‐2000

Citation

James, S. (2001), "America’s Library: The Story of the Library of Congress 1800‐2000", Library Review, Vol. 50 No. 1, pp. 42-56. https://doi.org/10.1108/lr.2001.50.1.42.9

Can library history really be both readable and popular? In the case of the Library of Congress, at least, it seems that anything is possible: James Conaway’s book is aimed at a wide, popular audience and is indeed, generally, very readable, perhaps because it is written by a journalist and professional author rather than by an expert librarian or library historian. It takes a broad approach, as such a work must, and then focuses at various points on specific items or collections for purpose of illustration or emphasis. In this way an interesting – by any standards – story is told, with inevitable selection and generalisation. That may in itself be open to criticism, but by concentrating on the history of the Library through the careers, aspirations and activities of its 13 librarians, a coherent story emerges.

There emerge also various points of note, not least among them a consistent personal interest in the Library by numerous Presidents of the USA, in whose gift lies the appointment of the chief librarian. Would similar direct prime‐ministerial interest (we would more likely call it interference) be welcome this side of the Atlantic? We seem here to be confronting a different cultural tradition in relation to the role and status of a national library (in this case, frequently and with reason called the nation’s library).

Inevitably, the narrative changes in character as it progresses. The Prologue is, to this reviewer’s taste, over‐written. But the narrative thereafter maintains pace and directness to tell a story worth telling, and worth reading. The early history is well set within the context of the American Revolution and then post‐revolutionary history. The story and the role of the emerging Library of Congress within that broader history is a good model of contextual library history. The burning of the Capitol (and the Library) by the British in 1814 takes its unhappy place in that story, but a precursor of a later catastrophic fire. The account of the Library in the later nineteenth century becomes a little bogged down, not in minutiae but in the inevitable internal and administrative matters of a rapidly developing major library; but it is still enlivened by relevant anecdote. The twentieth century account continues in rather similar vein, then for the modern period becomes rather like a digest of annual reports and press releases (I have read enough of them to know); but it paints, even so, a coherent and sometimes critical picture.

Every chapter is broadened and enlivened by short sections on specific aspects relating to the collections as they develop: the Lewis and Clark expedition; Jefferson and Monticello; Matthew Brady, photographer (of the Civil War); imagery; the Center for the Book; maps and atlases; and many more such themes besides. These especially, but the whole text also, are profusely, relevantly and attractively illustrated from the Library’s own pictorial archives, both in black and white and in colour.

Indeed, as with other Yale University Press books, this is altogether beautifully and appropriately designed (by Mary M. Manser) both in detail and in whole.

The result is a welcome, accessible and readable account of the development of a great library and of its collections through the acknowledged efforts of scholars and librarians. It will be an ideal souvenir of, or companion to, visitors to the Library, as well as a very effective advertisement for the Library (if the Library of Congress needs an advertisement), although its price puts it slightly above the tourist purchase bracket (will a paperback for that purpose be long delayed?). It is a book that both librarians and the general public will read with profit and pleasure.