In the late 1300s, an anonymous English scribe made a book that could reveal the phase of the moon on any given evening. The book contained a volvelle, a set of overlapping parchment disks that the reader would rotate to calculate astronomical information. Related to the astrolabe, the volvelle has often been called a primitive computer. (Another 14th century example could reckon the time at night by aligning disks with the stars.) The comparison to computers is legitimate inasmuch as volvelles processed data – and even anticipated the reader interactivity of a modern-day tablet – but Medieval books also had advantages that no iPad or Nexus can match.
Reading a Medieval manuscript was a thoroughly immersive experience, the richness of which cannot be electronically emulated. We tend to ignore the tactile qualities of manuscripts given how seldom the fragile old tomes are handled. A fascinating new exhibition at the J. Paul Getty Museum provides an important corrective.
Astronomical Table with Vovelle, shortly after 1386. (Detail.) Pen and black ink and tempera on... [+]
Worn on a belt for constant companionship, Medieval books were unclasped and read with dexterous fingers. There were cloth veils to lift, revealing the illuminated figures of saints. (Slips of fabric were stitched to the vellum pages to protect the delicate brushwork, and also to draw the reader closer to holy images.) Some pictures were intended to be ritually kissed, others to be touched. (Depictions of Christ's wounds were painted life-size to invite probing with the fingertips.)
Books were also modified by their owners. Significant passages were marked with knots, with larger knots signifying greater importance. Annotations were penned in the margins. Occasionally pages were scraped down or sliced to keep current with Church doctrine. (One example in the Getty exhibit shows Saint Veronica with her halo cut away after her holy status was challenged in the 16th century.) In other words, reader interaction was so intense that readers practically became coauthors.
Master of Guillebert de Mets. Saint Veronica Displaying the Sudarium, about 1450 - 1455. Tempera... [+]
More than half a millennium separates us from Medieval manuscripts. Few of us can read their Latin text, let alone relate to the worldview expressed. Yet the tangible qualities remain as intelligible today as when the books were made. Evidence of intensive physical contact eloquently expresses why printed books will always be essential. And the immersive ingenuity of their design can inspire publishers today to give books more of the interactivity we crave.
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