Darnton, 1990

 
Darnton, Robert. "First Steps Toward a History of Reading." The Kiss of Lamourette: Reflections in Cultural History. New York: W.W. Norton, 1990. 154-187.
Summary
 
Recovering the history of reading is Darnton's goal, and he sees both macro- and microanalysis as useful approaches, the former being the study of conditions across broad geographic and temporal spaces, the latter concerning itself with the more detailed analysis of a far more limited range (but not amount) of material. Macroanalysis has uncovered a "turning point" (161) in reading patterns located in the second half of the eighteenth century, which resulted in a new secular literary sensitivity. This seems "too cosmic for comfort" (162), so Darnton turns to more detailed microanalysis. One microanalytic book historian, Rolf Engelsing, has proposed a general model, suggesting that a Leserevolution ("reading revolution") took place at the end of the eighteenth century (165), which aligns with the aforementioned macroanalytical claims. Engelsing argues that people read "intensively" before about 1750, rereading the same few books over and over. By 1800, though, reading became more "extensive," as individuals read a much wider array of materials, constantly moving on to new items. Darnton believes Engelsing's thesis is too one-directional, but he admits the possibility that "a fundamental shift in the nature of reading took place at the end of the eighteenth century" (167). It might not have been a revolution, but it was the end of the "Old Regime" (167).  
Another interesting microanalytic discovery has been made by Daniel Mornet, who tabulated "titles from five hundred eighteenth-century catalogues" (162) and found only one copy of Rousseau's Social Contract, which was supposed to have been the Bible of the French Revolution. However, such facts, while in themselves remarkable, do not easily lend themselves to the creation of a program for further research. The reach of such a program will necessarily be limited to our own culture, for Darnton believes that the differences between reading in different societies "seem endless" (171), so "It would be extravagant to expect to find a formula that could account for all those variations" (171).  
Darnton suggests five approaches which will help to organize a method for studying "the changes in reading within our own culture" (171). First, it is important to consider more closely "the ideals and assumptions underlying reading in the past" (171). Next, the "ways reading was learned" (174) need examination. Third, famous autobiographical accounts could be studied, to be followed up by examinations of less familiar sources (177). His fourth suggestion is that there be "a juncture between literary theory and the history of books" (181), combining textual analysis and empirical research. Finally, he sees analytical bibliography (182), the study of books' physicality, as a valuable and underutilized approach to the study of book history.  
Critique
 
Darnton's analysis of and suggested approaches to the history of reading are generally sound, and offer an entertaining overview of the discipline; the items of cultural trivia he presents, even if they stood alone, would make this chapter worth reading. Where Darnton comes into difficulties is in his statements about contemporary reading and contemporary readers, difficulties that arise no doubt because of his historical orientation. For example, he does well to use a variety of source materials in showing that readers in the late 18th century reacted to La Nouvelle Héloïse with great emotion. He then asserts that "No modern reader can weep his way through the six volumes of La Nouvelle Héloïse as his predecessors did two centuries ago" (156). This is doubtless true, but he goes too far when he claims that "That sensibility is now extinct" (156). One need only look as far as a local reading group, or Oprah's Book Club, to see readers having powerful reactions to literature, expressing the same sensibilities as their Héloïse-loving ancestors. The same material no longer suffices to encourage the response, but the sentiment is alive and well, thriving under different conditions.  
Similarly, Darnton rightly suggests that the physicality of the text, including its arrangement in gathered pages (codex) as opposed to the scroll (volumen), its typesetting, and even the quality of its paper, gives important clues as to how that text would have been read (173, 185). However, he again claims that this is not applicable today, asserting that 18th century book buyers and sellers "shared a typographical consciousness that is now nearly extinct" (173). One could justly argue that books tend to be somewhat more uniform today than they were in the 18th century, but the typographical consciousness is far from dead. Small presses all over the world still produce limited-edition runs of high-quality books which are valued as much for their physical beauty as the beauty of the texts they contain. Even in the mass press, producing both hardcover and paperback editions of the same texts is the norm, suggesting each serves a different function, and has some effect on reading. Scholarly editions also contain large amounts of extra-textual material, obviously aimed at an academic audience. All of these physical considerations suggest that booksellers even today aim at both "high" and "low" audiences, just as they would have throughout the history of mass literacy.  
In assuming that reading and readers have changed so much in just over 200 years, Darnton misses many possibilities for furthering the history of reading. By assuming some continuity, rather than incommensurate difference, between readers past and present, Darnton may find himself better equipped to answer the questions he poses. In a D.F. McKenzie study Darnton cites, he outlines the "typographical rebirth" undergone by Congreve's works as they were moved from quarto to octavo volumes in the 18th century. Darnton insists that "a transformation in the design of the books gave the plays an entirely new flavor" (184), but he does not say what this new flavor might be. He assumes a new arrangement will significantly alter the text for the reader, but this is an assumption which again relies on his unfounded focus on difference, an assumption which could be tested empirically. Darnton laments that "we have not yet devised a strategy for understanding the inner process by which readers make sense of words" (171), but does not look to contemporary psychology or empirical literary studies for answers. It is possible that the way we construe meaning now is similar enough to the way our ancestors did to form at least a working model. It may also be possible to use contemporary coding and analytical techniques to analyze marginalia and other types of response from historical readers. There are undoubtedly differences between one culture's reading experiences and another, and indeed between one contemporary reader and another; however, there is a certain constancy of human concerns and a constancy of human cognition which unites even the most culturally and temporally divided groups across both time and space, constancies Darnton would do well to consider.  
References  

Engelsing, Rolf. "Die Perioden der Lesergeschichte in der Neuzeit. Das statistische Ausmass and die soziokulturelle Bedeutung der Lektüre." Archiv fur Geschichte des Buchwesens, 10, 1969, cols 944-1002.

McKenzie, D. F. "Typography and Meaning: The Case of William Congreve." Buch and Buchhandel in Europa im achtzehnten Jahrhundert. Eds. Giles Barber and Bernhard Fabian. Hamburg, 1981, pp. 81-126.

Mornet, Daniel. "Les Enseignements des bibliotheques privées (1750-1780)." Revue d'histoire litteraire de la France, 17, 1910, pp. 449-96.

Document created March 4th 2005