Thing 13 - LibraryThing. It's a real shame...

I was really excited about LibraryThing. In fact, it was probably the Thing I was most looking forward to. I pride myself on maintaining a facade of normality such that, outside work, I am not instantly identifiable as a librarian, let alone a cataloguer. But the prospect of LibraryThing really had me excited, and I just couldn't be bothered to hide this, gleefully raving about its promise to my housemates over dinner. However, now that I've signed up, I have to admit to being pretty disappointed.

Firstly, it looks so horrid. It has a really dated feel about it. There is so much going on on my home page that I don't know where to look. And what is that colour?! It defies description - pink?beige? pinkish-beige?! If it were a pair of tights it would be "natural tan". That's no colour for an online library.

Busy and beige. Yuk!

(Hang on a minute - I've just previewed this page and noticed how well the LibraryThing screenshot blends in with my own pink/beige/pinkish-beige/natural-tan blog. How did this happen?! What shameless double standards I'm employing! I'm standing by my original assertion 'though - natural tan is no colour for an online library; for a blog, however...)

I was prepared to see past all of these superficial shortcomings. I was still very excited about cataloguing my books (oh dear) and set about adding some from my collection. Further disappointment ensued. I spend too much time cataloguing at work to want to have anything to do with detailed bibliographic description in my spare time. I understand that others may feel differently; I just wish you could create a personalised template record, choosing which fields you wanted. I know you don't have to fill everything in, but when there's a field I feel obliged to do fill it, especially when the data that is already there (courtesy of the downloaded records) is often inaccurate or inconsistently formatted - I just can't bear to leave it that way! On the plus side, at least you have some control over which fields display on the "your books" page.

My "your books" page - keeping it as simple as possible.

The final blow came when I learned that once you hit the 200 book mark you have to pay. I decided there was no point in starting when it seemed likely that I would easily reach that point. I felt thoroughly deflated....

However, since then I've discovered that the fee is almost negligible - $25 for a lifetime membership - and actually seems quite justifiable (to cover admin. and maintenance costs) rather than a shameless way of making mega-bucks. So, I'm reconsidering my position on LibraryThing. I love the idea of cataloguing my books, I like the reviews and I'm really keen to have "my LibraryThing" on my blog (as Gareth2.0 does). But I hate how it looks. It's such a shame! Cataloguing instinct versus aesthetics. It'll be interesting to find out which will win...

Early printed excitement

I've just put the finishing touches to the bibliographic record for the final item bound in a fascinating volume of early printed material which I've been lucky enough to be cataloguing over the past few months. The volume contains 105 items, mostly broadsides ("single sheet publications" in DCRM(B) terms) published in the reigns of Charles I, James II, and William and Mary. The collection seems to have been assembled by  Robert Brady (1627?-1700), a doctor and historian, who was directly involved in some of the events the broadsides document. Item no. 47 (one of a few folio format publications bound in the volume) includes a deposition, delivered by Brady under oath before the king and an "extraordinary council" at Whitehall on the 22nd October 1688, in which he gives an account of his part in the events of the 10th of June 1688 at St. James' Palace, where Mary of Modena gave birth to James Francis Edward, Prince of Wales. Brady's deposition is one of 41 (surely they can't all have been present in the Queen's bed chamber?!) printed, "by his majesties [King James II of England] special command", in which he responds to reports that "very many do not think this son with which God hath blessed me, to be mine, but a supposed child" and in the belief that "the Prince of Orange, with the first Eastwardly wind, will invade this kingdom". Item no. 48, which responds to these depositions, is one of my favourites. It includes a map of St. James' Palace, "describing the place wherein it is supposed the true mother was delivered", on which a dotted line indicates the route by which "the child was conveyed to the Queen's bed-chamber"!

Cataloguing this volume has been an incredibly interesting project. I knew very little of the history of this period beforehand and, to be honest, wasn't at all interested in remedying that. But working with these sources captured my imagination, made the events described and recorded in them vivid and exciting, and really inspired me to find out more. I was reading about the events through the eyes of the people involved; their propaganda, their proclamations, declarations, depositions, petitions. What a wonderful experience, and a personal reminder that the collections of early books and materials which many of us look after have the power to inspire and educate in a way that textbooks and lectures can't. What a brilliant resource this volume, and others like it, would make for engaging with members of the community both within and beyond the college's walls...