Thoughtful Deconstruction or Inappropriate Intervention?

“Thoughtful Deconstruction refers to the conscious removal of elements of a bound item to show physical aspects that were previously hidden. In this presentation I will make the case that book conservators should consider employing this approach to carefully selected bound objects so that they can then be used to foster teaching and scholarship.” —Todd Pattison, 2026 (1)

Todd, first of all I want to let you know how much I have personally benefited from your book history scholarship, and respect your conservation and bookbinding work. On top of all that you are a good egg! You have generously contributed to many organizations, and are justifiably prominent in the field. 

Given your contributions, influence, and stature — and at the risk of sounding like a scolding schoolmarm — this “thoughtful deconstruction” approach is all the more disturbing. I totally support the practice of conservators interpreting objects. I totally support preserving evidence of use and existing damage in books. I totally love seeing what the insides of books look like. I totally do not support conservators taking apart books to accomplish these goals! Obviously one can do whatever they want with their own books. But advocating this as an approach for book conservators, as you did in your March 17 presentation New England GBW Chapter and in your article 2025 Suave Mechanicals 9 article, makes me uncomfortable. (2)

Have you considered how thoughtful deconstruction relates to our American Institute of Conservation Code of Ethics? Several areas are problematic: it compromises physical integrity (Article II), it prioritizes scholarship/education over preservation (Article III), and it adversely affects function (Article VI). As a Professional Member in AIC, it is also my responsibility to promote the Code of Ethics (Article XIII).

Why physically deconstruct now? Why not wait for not-to-distant future imaging or other technologies to answer your questions? What information can be important enough to compromise the integrity of an (even damaged) book? Just because a book is slightly damaged or has little current market value, does it give us free rein to intervene further?

Altering a book during the course of a treatment —which will prolong the object’s life — is different than deconstructing a structure for scholarship or education. I would also like to point out that removing a pastedown entirely is extremely unusual in current rare book conservation practice, given how invasive it is. I don’t think I’ve done it since the 1990s. Typically only the spine edge is lifted an inch or so to insert a hinge.

I have a confession. In my article in SM9, I also show an image of a lifted pastedown and removed leather on one of my own books in 2014. In retrospect, it really wasn’t necessary, but it was interesting to see that the slips were not deplyed or frayed, and that the inner face of the board squares were colored with vermillion. I think I just wanted a cool looking photo. You might say I wasn’t thoughtful enough. And at least the way I did it, it is not close to 100% reversible; which may be the case for many other people’s deconstructions as well. At this point I would rather have it intact, but like many projects I doubt I will have time to get back to replacing it.

How do we ensure careful selection of items to be deconstructed? Towards the end of your article, you mention “taking apart a volume that is destined to be destroyed and turning it into one that can teach, illustrate, or illuminate … seems a worthy thing to consider ….”  I don’t think most of us would disagree; however, determining which books are essentially valueless becomes a slippery slope. Take your case study in SM9 of The Token and Atlantic Souvenir, 1834. Even if the title page and a couple of plates are missing, and you got the book for free, I consider this 192 year old book to be valuable cultural property: it is a rare embossed binding, signed by the binder, signed by the engraver, there is only one for sale on ABE for $8,500 (most of the value is from a John Quincy Adams signature), just 24 are listed in WorldCat, and it is important enough to be included in Wolf’s From Gothic Windows to Peacocks 1825 – 1855, 170.

I bet books that could be deconstructed without disagreement  – say a 20th c. publishers’ binding with thousands of virtually identical extant examples – will reveal little interesting information. Books that do contain interesting innards maybe shouldn’t have been deconstructed in the first place.

Todd, please, listen to me, I’m on my knees, I’m praying that you have the strength to conquer this demon of dissectomania. You can stop turning more books into #pattisoncondition, just lay down your bookbinder’s knife, and overturn your board soaking tray!

NOTES

1. Todd Pattison, from BOOK_ARTS-L Listserv, March 3, 2026 “**REGISTRATION OPEN** THOUGHTFUL DECONSTRUCTION: A Webinar with Todd Pattison”.

2. Todd Pattison “Thoughtful Deconstruction” in Suave Mechanicals Vol. 9, (Ann Arbor: The Legacy Press, 2025): 554-580.

John J. Bradford: A Knight of the Folding-Stick. Free Presentation at Emory University, Friday, October 11, 3pm

Detail of the Frontispiece from John J. Bradford’s The Poetical Vagaries of the Knight of the Folding Stick of Paste-Castle and The History of the Garrett, 1815. Photo courtesy The Rosenbach Museum & Library.

Please join us at Emory University on Friday, October 11th, 3:00-4:30pm, for an informative and entertaining presentation in the Jones Room of the Robert W. Woodruff Library. This presentation is in-person, and registration is free. Light refreshments will be served.

In this illustrated lecture, conservator and lapsed poet Jeff Peachey traces the life of John Bradford and interprets his bookbinding-centric poetry. Bradford was a lifelong journeyman bookbinder in early 19th century New York City, remarkable for his idiosyncratic, self-published book of poetry, “The Poetical Vagaries of the Knight of the Folding Stick of Paste-Castle and The History of the Garrett” (1815).

Not only are John Bradford’s poems a lot of fun, but his book is the earliest American description of bookbinding written by an actual bookbinder. Only twelve copies are known of this book, and they are all heavily consulted. Bradford’s bookbinding infuses his mythopoetic cosmology in this seriously weird book; parts are even written in hieroglyphics.

“The Binder’s Curse” is John Bradford’s most well-known poem, and we will read it together at the end of the presentation. This talk is based on Peachey’s recent article, “The Binder’s Curse: John Bradford and Early Nineteenth-Century American Bookbinding” In Suave Mechanicals: Essays in the History of Bookbinding, Volume 8. (Ann Arbor: The Legacy Press, 2023): 386-457

Register here

This event will not be live-streamed or recorded.

Please contact Kim Norman or Ephranette Brown with any questions.

Photographs of Books; Books in Photographs

Fox Talbot’s “A Scene in a Library”, The Pencil of Nature, Plate 8, 1844. https://images.metmuseum.org/CRDImages/ph/original/DP136270.jpg

Though this is not the first photograph of books, which according to Larry J Schaff of the Talbot Catalogue Raisonne is Talbot’s “Bookcase” in Lacock Abbey, 26 November 1839, or the first photograph in a book, which was Anna Atkins’ Photographs of British Algae from 1843, I’m pretty sure it is the first photograph of books to appear in a book.

The books were from Talbot’s own working library when he was a student at Cambridge University. He arranged them outside, photographing them in the sunlight; even so, the exposure took 10 minutes. Book titles include: The Philosophical Magazine, Miscellanies of Science, Botanische Schriften, Manners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians, Philological Essays, Poetae Minores Graeci, and Lanzi’s Storia Pittorica dell’Italia and more. Unfortunately, Schaff mentions that this personal library was largely dispersed in the mid-20th century.

I think this is also the first photographic shelfie, a 21st century term for a curated intellectual self-portrait using books or other objects on bookshelves.

Note the co-existence of many binding structures: extra boards bindings (left, top shelf), boards bindings (bottom, middle, spine torn near head and creases along spine) cloth case bindings with a natural hollow and paper labels (inferring from the smooth, uncreased spine), wrappered periodicals(?) with printed titles; and a large number of traditional leather bound books.

This is around the time period we will be examining in detail in my upcoming Early Nineteenth Century Bookbinding workshop. It’s exciting to have contemporary photographic evidence to add to the context of these books. If 19th c. photographs and books interests you, Carol Armstrong’s Scenes in a Library: Reading the Photograph in the Book, 1843 – 1875. Cambridge and London: MIT Press, 1998 is also recommended.