The Private Library of the Historian in the Era of Photocopy: The Case of Gilbert Trausch
When did you last make a photocopy? A real photocopy, not a scan send to a computer? The photocopying machine is in the process of getting a relic from the past, some predict even that with digitalisation, the trend towards the paperless office and the upcoming of scanning apps for the mobile phone, the end of the all-in-one print-fax-copying machine is near.[1]
Having been active in historiography from 1958 to 2009 approximately, the Luxembourgish historian Gilbert Trausch belongs to an era during in which the photocopy played an important role. In Trausch’s private library, besides many books, photocopies take much place. From a scientific point of view, this hunger for printed sources and literature might not only hint to the obsessive urge to control the material that befalls many historians, but also to the important role the photocopy played in the organisation of the private library or to the working conditions of historians during the 20th century.
1. The Role of Photocopy for Historiographical Work in the 20th Century
In the process of historical research, copying has always played an essential role, either in form of writing down résumés on interesting content found or by copying passages literally to be able to refer to them in a projected text or with the aim of saving important ideas for later use. But historians often searched for other, less time-consuming ways to appropriate texts: Since the 19th century, they used mechanical copying systems like microphotography to save copies of texts. After World War Two, the photocopying machine followed, and the famous Xerox 914, the first easy-to-use commercial photocopier produced at large scale, was launched in 1959.[2] In the lapse of only a few years, this invention profoundly changed the way scholars worked. Astonishingly, while the invention and commercialisation of the photocopying machine is described – mostly in an anecdotical way – as a revolution in fast reproduction and distribution of knowledge in offices,[3] its pivoting function for the work of scientists has not stood in the historiographical focus. This fundamental change does not seem to have been felt by the historians themselves.[4]
How then did photocopying impact historiographical work? Whereas before, the historian might have been forced to buy a book or article, to lend it from a public library or even to consult it on the spot, he or she could now rely on a relatively cheap copy, which he could study at home and conserve it for future works.[5] Copying contributed to shift the working realm of the historian from the public reading hall to the private or academic working post – if they could afford a room for a library in their home or office. The personal library in this sense belongs to a culture of privilege, and the often-used argument that the copying machine became a vector of democratisation of scientific work, is therefore ambivalent. The copying machine also brought a new division of labour in academic activity: While in the 20th century, excerpting was normally done by the historians themselves, photocopying could be relegated, at least by those who disposed of staff, to assistants or – mostly female – secretaries.[6] Those who did not, had to press the copying button themselves.
2. The Specific Situation in Luxembourg
Gradually, besides the libraries’ core business of making original books or periodicals accessible to consultation and lending, a whole copying system was put into place. In historiographical work, archive and library gradually became mere spaces of selecting and copying documents.[7] In addition, photocopying, especially of selected pages or of specific articles, meant separating content from its publication context. Gabriele Lingelbach speaks of a process of “Entörtlichung” concerning simultaneously the physical form and context of sources and the historiographical research.[8]
But for a long time, Luxembourgish libraries experienced a lack of photocopiers and other copying instruments. The copier shortage was only resolved in the 1990s by a multiplication of machines for public use in the National Library. Not everything was copyable though. Thus, in a parliamentary debate in 1973, several members of parliament referred to the necessity to buy a microfilm reader-printer, since journals were not allowed to be photocopied anymore, as their manipulation on the copying machine had led to a strong deterioration problem. One politician even warned that entire pages of journals would be torn out of the bound volumes if there was no other copying possibility.[9] As the statement shows, the second part of the 20th century was marked also in Luxembourg by a further professionalisation of public archives and libraries and by the strengthening of laws on their role of conserving, which led to a stricter copying policy.
3. The Case of Gilbert Trausch
Gilbert Trausch’s library shows us that photocopy impacted the historian’s work enormously.[10] Trausch belonged to a generation of historians who still had studied under conditions hardly influenced by new technologies of information.[11] Term papers and tests were written by hand, as were the courses noted down by the students. As a student, Trausch may have experienced the use of hectography for copying handwritten or typed texts. Later however, Trausch could more and more rely on the photocopy. He did still use the method of excerpting (as we can see from the so-called “Zauberhefte” or “magical books” we found in his library, which were ring binders with prepunched paper pages).[12] However, there is also a large amount of photocopies. Among these, the most frequent cases are copies of academic dissertations, historiographical articles, archival sources and periodicals, of Luxembourgish as well as of international origin.
Besides bibliographical and archival indications, his “Zauberhefte” contained notes and excerpts on texts he had been reading, sometimes references to sources or literature or to photocopies he possessed in his library. They established a link between his ideas and original or copied literature. Trausch seems thus to have refined the function of the notebook, which played a central role in structuring the material.[13] But he possessed neither a “Zettelkasten” nor a suspension files cabinet to keep his copies in a certain order. He opted for a very pragmatic solution, mostly deposing copies of single articles on the top of the books of more or less the same subject. Large volumes by contrast were deposed in separate ring binders. This practice, besides pointing to an excellent memory of the historian, appears strikingly improvised since he himself taught bibliographic referencing at university, but it might mirror the discrepancy between commonly fixed scientific standards and the personal “bricolage” of the historian.[14]
In the context of photocopies, a special attention must be paid to the years when Trausch was already a renamed historian, and notably to the period 1973–83 when he was director of the National Library. We have found in Trausch’s library copies of entire volumes of Luxembourgish historical newspapers, as well as of archival dossiers from the National Archives. Since this way of copying was not possible for the normal reader due to regulations and lack of machines, this points to the use of his privileged position as a National Library director and of his social connections to other executives of cultural institutions, a common practice in Luxembourg at this time.[15]
4. Profound Change through Digitalisation
The process of digitalisation did not happen from one day to the other, but in several steps that only in the long run showed to be signs of a profound change. Library catalogues were systematically digitised, articles appeared on Internet and search machines became the daily bread of historians. At the very least, the historian of the 1990ies had to be able to send an e-mail. Trausch did not take these steps: as he had not used the typewriter, he did not use the PC which became a common working instrument in the 1980ies, he did not write mails himself, he apparently did not connect to Internet, and he continued to write and read on paper. He could avoid acquiring the new competences necessary to their utilisation, as he relied on the services of his wife and later his secretaries for typing his manuscripts or for printing out documents or e-mails.[16] Trausch’s posture vis-à-vis the digitalisation of historiography might illustrate a conscious or unconscious attitude of some historians who did not spring onto the train of digitalisation, whereas many others did, pointing to a possible generation split in the guild of historians.[17]Roger-Pol Droit, born in 1949, describes the feeling he associates with getting used to the PC as one of belonging to a “generation of border crossers” who had “one foot on the virtual world, the other in the world of the ink and the scratching pen”.[18]
Such a waiving of technological progress is however not exclusively linked to a cognitive unwillingness, but also to the “Leibgebundenheit” of social acts in relation with the use of specific media. The materiality of information is subject to change, different media uses require different techniques of use which have to be physically appropriated.[19]Keeping to photocopy instead of digital supports for reading and analysing texts meant to hold paper and pencil in one’s hand. Changing from paper to screen for reading or from pencil to keyboard or even to dictating for writing down may have been seen not as an advantage, but as a hinderance and as a loss of freedom.
5. Conclusion
Though from the viewpoint of today, we often see digitalisation as a technical revolution which had positive consequences also for historians, one can state that in the era of replication already, access to sources had become much easier and the copying system as a strong marker of this period offered new possibilities of assembling, analysing and conserving content.[20] The photocopying system reached a certain perfection with the growing speed of copying and with automatization of technical steps such as the feeding of loose pages, recto-verso-printing, integration of fax and printing functions, colour copying. But although the photocopying system was lived as a technological revolution, it did not have the dividing effect digitalisation had which presented itself as a gradual development.[21] Anybody was capable to handle the copying machine.[22] In terms of adopting new competences, the step was even smaller than the one from writing to typing. A profound gap between historians only opened with the use of the PC and the digitalisation of libraries. Historians who did not want to comply to these new challenges paid the prize by setting themselves apart from their scientific community.[23] However, we have to bear in mind that still in the 1990’s, historians did not at all seize the potential of digitalisation for their work, even less so of Internet, although the mass digitising of sources and the creation of databases for this purpose had already begun.[24]
[1] Robert Nehring, ‘Office-History: Die Geschichte des Kopierers’, OFFICE ROXX. Der amtliche Büro-Blog, 2018 <https://office-roxx.de/2018/03/14/office-history-xerox-der-erste-kopierer/> [accessed 25 February 2021].
[2] On the history of this processs, see Monika Dommann, ‘Papierstau und Informationsfluss: Die Normierung der Bibliothekskopie’, Historische Anthropologie, 16.1 (2008), 31–54 <https://doi.org/10.7788/ha.2008.16.1.31>; Monika Dommann, ‘Xeroxomania: une petite histoire de la photocopie à l’ère des copyshops’, Transbordeur: photographie histoire société, 3 (2019), 76–89 <https://doi.org/10.5167/uzh-167324>.
[3] For such an approach, see for example Jennifer Schuessler, ‘The Paper Trail Through History (Published 2012)’, The New York Times, 16 December 2012, section Books <https://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/17/books/noting-the-history-of-the-paper-trail.html> [accessed 15 December 2020]; Clive Thompson, ‘How the Photocopier Changed the Way We Worked – and Played’, Smithsonian Magazine, 2015 <https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/duplication-nation-3D-printing-rise-180954332/> [accessed 15 December 2020].
[4] Gabriele Lingelbach, ‘Ein Motor Der Geschichtswissenschaft? Zusammenhänge Zwischen Technologischer Entwicklung, Veränderungen Des Arbeitsalltags von Historikern Und Fachlichem Wandel’, Zeitenblicke, 10.Nr. 1 (2011), para. 1 <http://www.zeitenblicke.de/2011/1/Lingelbach/index_html, URN: urn:nbn:de:0009-9-30174>. Monika Dommann and David Gugerli, ‘Geschichtswissenschaft in Begutachtung: acht kommentare zur historischen Methode der Gegenwart’, Traverse : Zeitschrift für Geschichte, 18.2 (2011), 154 (p. 159) <https://doi.org/10.5169/seals-391007>.
[5] Axel Kuhn and Svenja Hagenhoff, ‘Nicht geeignet oder nur unzureichend gestaltet? Digitale Monographien in den Geisteswissenschaften’, Zeitschrift für digitale Geisteswissenschaften, 2019, chap. 3.2. <https://doi.org/10.17175/2019_002>. See also Henning Trüper, Topography of a Method: François Louis Ganshof and the Writing of History, Historische Wissensforschung, 2 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014), p. 366.
[6] Michael G. Esch, ‘Schreibwerkzeuge’, in Von der Arbeit des Historikers: ein Wörterbuch zu Theorie und Praxis der Geschichtswissenschaft: [für Peter Schöttler zum 60. Geburtstag], ed. by Anne Kwaschik and Mario Wimmer, Histoire (Transcript (Firm)), Bd. 19 (Bielefeld: Transcript, 2010), pp. 177–82 (p. 178).
[7] Lingelbach, pp. 12–13; Markus Friedrich, ‘Vom Exzerpt zum Photoauftrag zur Datenbank: Technische Rahmenbedingungen historiographischer Forschung in Archiven und Bibliotheken und ihr Wandel seit dem 19. Jahrhundert’, Historische Anthropologie, 22 (2014), 278–97 (p. 287). See also Esch, p. 180.
[8] Lingelbach, para. 21. On the consequences of the fragmentation of books, see also Dommann, ‘Papierstau und Informationsfluss’, p. 36. On the effects for the work in archives, see Friedrich, p. 287. Esch, pp. 178–79; Armin Heinen, ‘Mediaspektion der Historiographie. Zur Geschichte der Geschichtswissenschaft aus medien- und technikgeschichtlicher Perspektive’, zeitenblicke, 10.1 (2011), para. 12 <http://www.zeitenblicke.de/2011/1/Heinen>.
[9] 1081 JEUDI, 29 NOVEMBRE 1973 (17e séance) 1082, van den Bulcke (LSAP); JEUDI, 29 NOVEMBRE 1973 (17e séance) 1073, député Herr (CSV), 1097 JEUDI, 29 NOVEMBRE 1973 (17e séance) 1098 Burggraff (CSV).
[10] On the development of the microfilm, see Dommann, ‘Papierstau und Informationsfluss’, pp. 38–43.
[11] Lingelbach, paras 6–9.
[12] On the method of the Zauberhefte, it would need further exploration on whether this was a common or even taught practice or not. See the analogies in Ganshof’s annotation system, Trüper, p. 116.
[13] Esch, p. 178.
[14] Smiljana Antonijevic and Ellysa Stern Cahoy, ‘Researcher as Bricoleur: Contextualizing Humanists’ Digital Workflows’, Digital Humanities Quarterly, 012.3 (2018), paras 5–7, 54. The authors describe the concept however in engaging with digital tools.
[15] On the micropolitics of scientists, see Philipp Müller, ‘Quellen sammeln, Geschichte schreiben. Zur Materialität historischen Wissens im 19. Jahrhundert’, Historische Zeitschrift, 311.3 (2020), 603–32 (p. 615) <https://doi.org/10.1515/hzhz-2020-0035>, a concrete example p. 619-620.
[16] On the division of labour in photocopying, see Delphine Gardey, Écrire, calculer, classer: comment une révolution de papier a transformé les sociétés contemporaines (1800-1940) (Paris: La Découverte, 2008), pp. 18, 286.
[17] For the perception of a generational gap produced by technical advancement, see also Marc Bloch, Apologie pour l’histoire ou métier d’historien, Cahiers des Annales, 3, 2nd edn, 1952, p. 23.
[18] Roger-Pol Droit, Was Sachen mit uns machen. Philosophische Erfahrungen mit Alltagsdingen, 1st edn (Hamburg: Hoffmann und Campe, 2005), pp. 103–5 <https://www.perlentaucher.de/buch/roger-pol-droit/was-sachen-mit-uns-machen.html> [accessed 26 January 2021].
[19] Fabio Crivellari and Marcus Sandl, ‘Die Medialität der Geschichte. Forschungsstand und Perspektiven einer interdisziplinären Zusammenarbeit von Geschichts- und Medienwissenschaften’, Historische Zeitschrift, 277, 2003, 619–54 (pp. 631–33). See also: Kuhn and Hagenhoff, chap. 2.1; Friedrich, pp. 279–80.
[20] “Die Welt gehört denjenigen, die die neuen Dinge lieben.” Massimo Mastrogregori, ‘Historiografie’, in Von der Arbeit des Historikers: ein Wörterbuch zu Theorie und Praxis der Geschichtswissenschaft: [für Peter Schöttler zum 60. Geburtstag], ed. by Anne Kwaschik and Mario Wimmer, Histoire (Transcript (Firm)), Bd. 19 (Bielefeld: Transcript, 2010), pp. 97–102 (p. 102).
[21] Kiran Klaus Patel, ‘Zeitgeschichte im digitalen Zeitalter. Neue und alte Herausforderungen’, Vierteljahrshefte für Zeitgeschichte, 59.3 (2011), 331–51 (p. 332, ebf. 349) <https://doi.org/10.1524/vfzg.2011.0019>.
[22] Droit, p. 152.
[23] See also Peter Horvath, Geschichte Online. Neue Möglichkeiten für die historische Fachinformation, Historische Sozialforschung, Supplement 8, 1997, p. 62 <https://www-jstor-org.proxy.bnl.lu/stable/40985983> [accessed 17 December 2020]; Lingelbach, para. 40.
[24] See for instance the description of Horvath, p. VII–3.