For this October installment of The Printed Image, we’re continuing the exploration of Gustave Doré’s illustrated works within Special Collections while also journeying to an underworld of doom and darkness.

Doré’s illustrations for Dante’s Inferno have defined this literary masterwork for modern audiences, to the point where readers may know the images without knowing the artist. Doré began work on the illustrations in 1855 and eventually self-published his own edition in 1861, after he was unable to find a publisher willing to take the financial risk. Doré’s own risk paid off, and the Inferno illustrations became a defining point in his career. [1] (The edition in Falvey’s Special Collections was published later by P.F. Collier in New York.)

Hell, as depicted by Doré and his engravers, is a desolate, desiccated realm; a smoldering, scorched earth with jagged, sharp rocks and barren landscapes, where lost souls swirl through the air as the damned are tormented alongside the monsters and gods of pagan days past. Surprisingly, we don’t see much in the way of fire depicted in these illustrations; the Inferno has already occurred, Hell is what remains.

Dante swoons after hearing Francesca’s story, engraved by Louis Paul Pierre Dumont

Arrival of Geryon, engraved by Adolphe François Pannemaker

Dante addresses Pope Nicholas III, engraved by Adolphe François Pannemaker

Virgil addresses the False Counselors, engraved by Héliodore Pisan

As mentioned briefly in my previous post, Doré’s prolific illustration output would not have been possible without the engravers who helped bring his drawings and designs into print. Within the Inferno illustrations, we can see that an engraver’s treatment of a Doré drawing could impact the tone and atmosphere of the final image, which we can see in the pair of following illustrations.

The image on the right, engraved by Héliodore Pisan, is composed with a density of lines and marks, many of them short cuts and stipples that create a gradual gradation from the dark landscape in the background to the bright flame within Farinata’s tomb.

This is contrasted with the illustration below, by an engraver only known as ‘Delduc,’ where the negative space dominates the image. We can see evidence of an engraver’s tools in its making, but it also closely resembles a pen-and-ink drawing, which is not an easy feat for a wood engraving. Pisan’s treatment creates an aura of dark menace while Delduc presents Hell’s torments with clarity and precision.

Virgil and Dante before Farinata degli Uberti, engraved by Héliodore Pisan

Sowers of Discord in the Ninth Circle, engraved by ‘Delduc’

No overview of Dante’s journey would be complete without remarking upon the deepest and darkest circle of Hell, where Satan resides. Doré presents Satan not reveling in his kingdom but brooding, trapped in ice, a creature of frustration and simmering grievances. How he came to be there, by means of Doré and a different author, will be featured in the next Printed Image installment.

Dante’s Inferno may be viewed in the Rare Book Room by appointment. To see more illustrations based on Dante’s works, please visit the online exhibit Dante Illustrated, which includes a reading from the Inferno by Father Peter Donohue, O.S.A. To learn more about Gustave Doré, watch this video on Peter Beard’s illustration Youtube channel. And visit Open Culture to view illustrations Doré created for Dante’s Purgatorio and Paradiso.

Satan, engraved by Héliodore Pisan

References
[1] “Gustave Doré’s Hauntingly Beautiful Illustrations for Dante’s Inferno.” The Marginalian, 2 Oct. 2015, www.themarginalian.org/2015/10/02/gustave-dore-dante-inferno/.

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Mike Sgier is a Distinctive Collections Coordinator at Falvey Library.

Over the course of the fall semester, I’ll be highlighting books from Falvey Library’s Distinctive Collections featuring the work of French illustrator Gustave Doré. This is in conjunction with the new exhibit Divine Inspiration: Revealing the Sacred in Biblical Texts and Imagery, now on display on the first floor of Falvey Library. Doré created over 200 biblical illustrations for an edition of the Bible published in 1866, and a case in the exhibit is dedicated to his work, as well as being included on the exhibit poster.

For this first entry in the series, we’re focusing on illustrations Doré created prior to his biblical illustrations with Doré Fairy Tales (formally titled “Popular Fairy Tales”), a 32-page volume that collects four stories, published in 1888. An author is not credited for the text, but Doré’s illustrations most likely derived from illustrations he created for Charles Perrault’s fairy tales, around 1862.

Illustration for ‘Little Red Riding-Hood’

An artistic prodigy and enormously prolific, Doré earned acclaim for his book and newspaper illustrations while striving for acceptance in the traditional French art establishment. The majority of his illustrations were produced through wood engraving, a process where an image is carved into a block of wood by carving away the negative space of the image. Ink can then be rolled onto the carved surface and subsequently printed, though often metals plates were created from the blocks by means of electrotyping or stereotyping, allowing the images to be used in industrial printing, and for wider dissemination of the illustrations [1].

Doré was able to utilize the engraving medium to add a staggering level of detail to his illustrations, with expressive costuming, characters and locales. The illustrations have a strong grounding in realistic environments, but still leave room for the strange and fantastic, as seen in the illustrations for The Seven-League Boots. But these qualities are also due to the engravers who collaborated with Doré, as they were the ones who carved the woodblocks based on Doré’s drawings, thus bringing his visions to life. Doré often drew directly onto the woodblocks prior to carving, so not much evidence remains of his preparatory drawings prior to an engravers’ tools [1].

Illustration for ‘The Seven-League Boots’

Illustration for ‘Blue-Beard’

Illustration for ‘The Seven-League Boots’

Engraver’s signature for ‘Blue-Beard’

In many cases, the engraver’s signature would be included on the illustrations along with Doré’s, as can be seen in the bottom left corner of a Blue-Beard illustration. However, for many of the illustrations in this particular edition, Doré’s signature is the only one that is prominent. This could be due to the way the illustrations were formatted for this particular edition, or how the printing plates were disseminated to the publisher.

One final aspect I’ll note is the paper used for this edition. The paper has a significant texture or “tooth” to it that is detectable when reading, and brings a unique character to the illustrations. But it also creates an uneven surface for the ink to rest upon, which may account for spots where it appears the ink has been rubbed away. This is a reminder that every variable in printing will impact a book and its contents, and will be a factor in its preservation.

Detail for illustration from ‘Blue-Beard’

Doré Fairy Tales may be viewed in Falvey Library’s Rare Book Room by appointment. Internet Archive includes a number of editions with Doré fairy tale illustrations, and you can learn more about the importance of engraving to Doré’s process by visiting The History of Art.

References
[1] Schaefer, Sarah C., ‘The Good News’, Gustave Doré and the Modern Biblical Imagination (New York, 2021; online edn, Oxford Academic, 18 Nov. 2021), https://doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780190075811.003.0003

Mike Sgier is a Distinctive Collections Coordinator at Falvey Library.

For this installment of The Printed Image, I’m returning to a book format to highlight the illustrations of Sidney H. Meteyard for The Golden Legend, a narrative poem written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. This particular edition was published by Hodder & Stoughton in New York, around 1910.

Taking place in medieval Italy, the poem recounts the struggles of Prince Henry of Hoheneck, who is stricken with a malady that can only be cured by the blood of a maiden who consents to die for his sake. Through the machinations and deceptions of Lucifer himself, Henry loses his princely seat and becomes an outcast, finding solace only with Elsie, the daughter of a former vassal. Elsie is so moved by his plight that she decides to sacrifice her life for his, so as to become closer to Christ. Eventually, Elise is kidnapped by Lucifer and rescued by Henry, who is miraculously healed during the rescue effort. The two lovers are happily married, and Henry is restored to his princely seat.

Title page for The Golden Legend, printed with gold ink.

Meteyard’s illustrations capture Longfellow’s story with precise, detailed paintings, filled with rich costuming and environments. Working in a late Pre-Raphaelite style, his illustrations bear similarities to the paintings of Edward Burne-Jones and Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Upon first seeing them, I was also reminded of the works of illustrators Howard Pyle and N.C. Wyeth, who would work with similar medieval subjects and compositions in their own works. While Meteyard’s illustrations are rooted in realistic environments and subjects, he also finds ways to refer to the fantastic, romantic, and macabre elements of the story.

‘It was a dream, and would not stay;
A dream that in a single night
Faded…’ (page 108)

‘A poor old woman with a rosary,
Follows the sound, and seems to wish her feet
Were swifter…’ (page 116)

‘It seems to me
The body of St. Catherine, borne by angels!’
(page 119)

In the book itself, each illustration is protected by a thin sheet of transparent paper which includes a quote from the poem, acting in a way as a title for the illustration itself. Additionally, you may detect from these photos that the illustrations are are not entirely affixed to the pages, as they almost float above the page with just a bit of adhesive on the top portion.

Technically, these printed images would be referred to as tipped-in plates, where they are printed separately from the text of the book using a different printing process and then added later. This could be done for a variety of reasons; in this case, it allows the images to be printed through a lithographic process, thus reproducing as closely as possible Meteyard’s paintings, while the text of the book could be printed on letterpress. By using multiple printing methods, this creates a way to include color illustrations in a way that may not have been achievable through simply one printing method at the time.

‘I saw her standing on the deck
Beneath an awning cool and shady’ (page 146)

The Golden Legend may be viewed in Falvey Library’s Rare Book Room by appointment. A similar edition of this book is also available digitally through Open Library.

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Mike Sgier is a Distinctive Collections Coordinator at Falvey Library.

My exhibit case for Poetic License: Seven Curators’ Poetry Selections from Distinctive Collections focused on epic poetry from the Western tradition and the poets who played a key part in translating these works. A reader’s encounter with epic poetry is often through a translation, and so the craft of the translator becomes an integral element, acting as a conduit between the original language of the epic and the audiences of the translator.

My selections included four translated works from the library’s Special Collections. This journey naturally begins with The Iliad of Homer, translated by Alexander Pope between 1715-1720. Pope drew wide acclaim at the time of its publication, and the work helped fulfill a longtime fascination he had with Homer. However, Pope may have taken a few liberties in his translation, as the critic Richard Bentley is reported to have said, “It is a pretty poem, Mr. Pope, but you must not call it Homer.” The edition on display, published in 1853 by Ingram, Cooke, and Co., includes designs and illustrations throughout by John Flaxman.

The Iliad of Homer, translated by Alexander Pope, design by John Flaxman.

In addition to translation, Homer’s epics would prove inspirational for original works. The Roman poet Virgil created his own epic with The Aeneid, about the hero Aeneas’ wanderings after the Trojan War, which bear similarity to the wanderings of Homer’s Odysseus. On display is The Aeneid from the Works of Virgil : In Latin and English, translated by Christopher Pitt, who was a contemporary and friend to Alexander Pope. This edition, published in 1778 by J. Dodsley in London, includes the Latin text of the original facing Pitt’s English translation. Though the English text may also require some deciphering to modern audiences, as the printed type used the ‘long S’ throughout.

The Aeneid from the Works of Virgil : In Latin and English, translated by Christopher Pitt.

Cover to the limited edition of Beowulf,
translated by Seamus Heaney.

Our journey continues to northern Europe and the land of the Danes, of the king Hrothgar, the monster Grendel, and a hero named Beowulf. Considered a foundational work in English poetry, Beowulf was introduced to a new generation of readers thanks to the translation of Irish poet Seamus Heaney, who brought a fresh, visceral energy to the text. The limited edition on display includes the opening of the poem in Old English, with text replicated from the only surviving manuscript, facing the English translation. The edition is also autographed by Heaney, who was a frequent visitor to Villanova University thanks to the Center for Irish Studies.

Our journey ends in Ireland itself with The Táin, the Irish Iron Age epic about Queen Medb and King Ailill’s war against Ulster, and the demigod Cuchulainn who stood against them. Irish poet Thomas Kinsella serves as the translator for the edition on display, and while much of the epic is a prose work, the monologues and dialogues are presented in a verse form, connecting it to a poetic tradition. This edition also includes ink drawings by Louis le Brocquy, which bring a brutal, raw, and mysterious atmosphere to the battles that the poem recounts.

Louis le Brocquy ink drawing from The Táin,
translated by Thomas Kinsella.

Poetic License is currently on display on the first floor of Falvey Library. Join us on Thursday, April 20 from 4-5:30pm to celebrate the exhibit, which will include an open mic event. Attendees are invited to share a favorite poem or piece of creative writing to share with the community during the reception.

Bleak, haunted moors. Doomed lovers and fiery passions. Wuthering Heights, the sole novel written by Emily Brontë, still stands as a remarkable work of Gothic fiction, as it chronicles the tangled lives of the Earnshaw and Linton families, at the center of which is Heathcliff, the Byronic anti-hero who is adopted by the Earnshaws but who is slighted and seeks a long revenge against the families.

One of the more unique visual adaptations of the book is an edition in Falvey’s Special Collections, illustrated by German-American printmaker Fritz Eichenberg. The black-and-white illustrations, created originally through wood engraving, are stark, bold, and capture the tumultuous and haunted atmosphere of Brontë’s story.

“I’m come home: I’d lost my way on the moor!” (page 15)

In a previous post, I wrote about metal engraving in the illustrations of Felix Darley, and while there are similarities between wood and metal engraving processes, there are some key differences which give Eichenberg’s illustrations their unique style. Wood engraving is a relief method of printmaking, where ink is rolled onto the surface of a carved block of end-grain wood, unlike metal engraving where ink is pressed into carved lines. So, the white lines or areas of negative space we see in Eichenberg’s illustrations are areas that have been carved away in the actual block of wood, using fine-tipped burins.

Eichenberg is adept at using his tools to create the atmosphere of Brontë’s world. In one illustration of young Catherine Earnshaw, the fine lines in the background can be interpreted as both the rolling hills and the clouds covering the Yorkshire moors. In another, these fine lines mimic fog while also defining the features of Heathcliff’s face, representing a feverish, internal obsession weighing upon Catherine’s mind. Finally, this doubling nature appears in an illustration where Heathcliff and Catherine embrace, the lines in the background defining both the folds of the curtain and the wind from the open window, defining the lifelong companions and would-be lovers.

She kept wandering to and fro, from the gate to the door… and at length took up a permanent situation on one side of the wall, near the road… (page 53)

“Oh! Nelly, the room is haunted! I’m afraid of being alone!” (page 78)

“I have not broken your heart – you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.” (page 102)

One of Eichenberg’s most striking illustrations in the book shows the external environment expressing the internal turmoil of its subject, as Heathcliff digs up Catherine’s grave late in the novel. Harsh hatch marks and stipples cover both the cold night sky and Catherine’s headstone, as Heathcliff’s face is contorted into a mixture of  rage, madness, and grief.

This would not be Eichenberg’s only encounter with the Brontës; an illustrated edition of Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre would be published the same year as Wuthering Heights. Other illustrated books by Eichenberg include Crime and Punishment, The Brothers Karamazov, Gulliver’s Travels, Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold, and Anna Karenina. He also contributed numerous illustrations to the Catholic Worker after befriending Dorothy Day in 1949.

“I’ll have her in my arms again! If she be cold, I’ll think it is this north wind that chills me; and if she be motionless, it is sleep.” (page 181)

On a final technical note, an editor’s description at the beginning of this edition states that the illustrations were reproduced using electrotype. This is a process where a metal plate reproduces the original wood engraving, making it easier to fit in with the type when the book is put into production. This process still maintains the relief quality of the wood engraving, so what we see on the printed page remains true to Eichenberg’s work.

Wuthering Heights may be viewed in the Rare Book Room during walk-in hours (Wednesday 9:30-11:30am, Thursday 2-4pm) or by appointment. Books illustrated by Fritz Eichenberg in Falvey’s circulating collection include Gulliver’s Travels, Fathers & Sons, The Long Loneliness: The Autobiography of Dorothy Day, and Works of Mercy.

To learn more about wood engraving, please visit The Wood Engravers’ Network. To learn more about electrotyping, please visit Wikipedia.

I lingered round them, under that benign sky… and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. (page 212)

To commemorate St. Patrick’s Day, we’re highlighting new additions to the Philadelphia Ceili Group’s online archives in the Digital Library. The Philadelphia Ceili Group is dedicated to the promotion of Irish music, dance, and culture, and hosts festivals, concerts, and lectures in the greater Philadelphia area to support this mission.

The efforts to digitize the archival recordings of the Philadelphia Ceili Group are ongoing and new recordings are added on a continual basis. New recordings can be heard from the 1983 Fall Festival, which features over a dozen musicians performing reels, jigs, airs, and songs. Performers include Johnny Cunningham, Liz Carroll, Joe and Antoinette McKenna, Mick Moloney, the Egan family, and a tap dancing performance from Howard “Sandman” Sims.

There is also a separate concert with fiddler Kevin Burke and guitarist Mícheál Ó Domhnaill (parts 1 and 2), as well as two installments from the Oíche Cois Tine (Night Beside the Fire) lecture series on the Irish sense of place, given by Dr. Henry Glassie and Brian Donnelly. The Donnelly lecture in particular features readings of poems by W.B. Yeats, Patrick Kavanagh, Seamus Heaney, and Derek Mahon.

This installment of ‘The Printed Image’ highlights a scrapbook compiled by Fay King, a cartoonist and journalist who contributed to a number of newspapers in the early 20^th century, including The Denver Post, The San Francisco Examiner, and The New York Evening Journal. The scrapbook, compiled between 1916 to 1919, includes numerous articles about King and her visits to various cities, clippings of her own newspaper columns, photographs, and a complete copy of The Cartoon Book, which was distributed for the Third Liberty Loan drive during World War I, and which included a contribution by King.

“A Woman’s Bit” by Fay King, from The Cartoon Book.

Photograph of Fay King, from page 48 of the scrapbook.

Newspaper clipping from page 24 of the scrapbook.

The scrapbook includes a key feature of King’s style, single-panel cartoons that would accompany her articles and columns for newspapers. King would include herself in these cartoons, portraying herself with long, lanky limbs and wide eyes. This cartoon persona earned her a certain celebrity, and can be seen as an early forerunner of autobiographical comics that would flourish later in the century by the likes of Lynda Barry, Art Spiegelman, and Aline Kominsky-Crumb.

A Fay King column and cartoon, from page 85 of the scrapbook.

But as cartoonist and historian Trina Robbins observes in her book Nell Brinkley and the New Woman in the Early 20th Century, the norms of the time limited the subjects that King was able to address, both in her cartoons and columns. Robbins writes, “Although they (Fay King and Nell Brinkley) avoided the mother and child ghetto that most other women cartoonists and illustrators seemed to have inhabited, both artists were still ghettoized simply by drawing for women” [1].

One aspect of King’s cartoon persona that is widely noted is its similarity to another famous comic character: Olive Oyl, from E.C. Segar’s Thimble Theatre and Popeye comic strips. However, this comparison is somewhat inexact. A similarity can be detected, but King’s cartoon avatar predates the creation of Olive Oyl, whose first appearance was in 1919. While there is no definitive record that Segar was inspired by King, if an influence does exist, King would be the influence on Olive Oyl, and not the other way around.

Fay King, 1916

Fay King, 1917

Olive Oyl in Thimble Theatre, 1919.

Olive Oyl in Thimble Theatre, 1926

Fay King’s scrapbook can be read in its entirety in the Digital Library, and is available to be viewed in the Rare Book Room during walk-in hours or by appointment. Nell Brinkley and the New Woman in the Early 20th Century can be borrowed from Falvey Library’s circulating collection.

[1] Robbins, Trina. Nell Brinkley and the New Woman in the Early 20th Century. McFarland & Company, Inc., 2001. p. 37.

For this installment of the The Printed Image I’ll be highlighting The Wonder Smith and His Son: A Tale from the Golden Childhood of the World, written by Ella Young and illustrated by Boris Artzybasheff. Published in 1927, the book received a Newbery Honor in 1928, and is part of the Joseph McGarrity collection in Distinctive Collections. The book also entered the public domain earlier this year.

In fourteen interconnected tales, Young recounts the mythic stories of the Gubbaun Saor, an archetypal builder figure within Celtic mythology similar to Greek mythology’s Daedalus, and the Gubbaun’s children; his natural born daughter Aunya and his adopted son Lugh (though he is simply referred to as ‘Son’ in the stories themselves). The stories are filled with strange word games and customs, and encounters with deities, elves, djinn, and other supernatural beings. Young was active within the Gaelic and Celtic revival movements in the 19^th and 20^th centuries, and so the book acts as a way to preserve these stories which were passed down through an oral tradition. As she she writes in the preface of the book,

People have forgotten about these things now, but in the thatched cottages in Gaelic-speaking Ireland and Scotland, they talk about him and his son Lugh and his daughter Aunya… They are glad when they find some one who does not know how Aunya tricked Balor’s messenger and how she got the better of the Gubbaun himself, because they want to have the pleasure of hearing a new person laugh at these stories.

“My blessing to you, Brother of mine;
White Love of Running Water.”
Page 35 from The Wonder Smith and His Son.

Boris Artzybasheff’s illustrations capture the timeless and fantastical nature of these stories. The black-and-white drawings are reminiscent of Aubrey Beardsley’s illustrations, which served as an early influence on Artzybasheff, and bring both an archetypal and surreal tone to the stories. Celtic influences can be detected in the clothing and foliage patterns, but these are also merged with Russian and Byzantine influences, with sharp angles in the figures and costumes, a flat perspective to the scenes, and in the design of the Gubbaun’s towers and “dunes.” This influence can be traced back to Artzybasheff’s birthplace in Kharkiv and to his studies in St. Petersburg, before he fled his homeland during the Russian civil war and emigrated to the United States.

“I am Hrut of the Many Shapes,
the Son of Sruth, the Son of Sru.”
Page 77 from The Wonder Smith and His Son.

“A dune with courts and passages and secret chambers.”
Page 103 from The Wonder Smith and His Son.

Detail from page 123 of The Wonder Smith and His Son.

Surreal elements are also a key visual trait in the creatures that the Gubbaun and his children encounter. Many of these seem to be a conglomeration of shapes and animal-parts that are constructed into their own unique beings. In one illustration, a goblin with the arms of a praying mantis stands next to a beast with tusks, horns, and three pairs of ears. In another, the neck of a horse-like creature morphs and merges into the snout of its own rider. These stylistic inventions help bring Young’s stories into a space out of time, that “golden childhood of the world,” while also serving as a precursor to Artzybasheff’s later work, when he would anthropomorphize technology, merging human and machine in the modern world.

“Our King bespeaks your help.
Behold the gifts and tokens of Balor!”
Page 65 from The Wonder Smith and His Son.

A Landscape
Designed by Felix O.C. Darley, engraved by William .H. Dougal.

This is Mike Sgier, a Distinctive Collections Coordinator here at Falvey Library, and today I’m debuting a new blog series titled The Printed Image, exploring illustrated and pictorial works from Falvey Library’s Distinctive Collections. For this inaugural post, I’m highlighting Illustrated Poems by Lydia Howard Sigourney, with illustrations designed by Felix O.C. Darley.

Published in 1849 by Philadelphia-based Carey and Hart, Illustrated Poems is a collection of over 100 of Sigourney’s poems, serving as a survey of her renowned career up to that the time. Darley, still in the early years of his illustration career, contributed 14 illustrations to the book. Shortly before publication, Darley would move from Philadelphia to New York where his career would continue to thrive, securing his status as a pioneer in American illustration.

Sigourney’s poems selected for this book refer to historical and biblical figures along with more everyday concerns in early 19th century American life. It is these more commonplace subjects that appear most frequently in Darley’s illustrations, a mixture of romanticized environments, portraits, and scenes of daily life.

The Western Emigrant
Designed by Felix O.C. Darley, engraved by William H. Dougal.

Erin’s Daughter
Designed by Felix O.C. Darley, engraved by William Humphrys.

The Drooping Team
Designed by Felix O.C. Darley, engraved by James Smillie.

Detail from The Ancient Family Clock.
Designed by Felix O.C. Darley, engraved by William Humphrys.

Darley’s illustrations are tightly composed and highly detailed, with a clean and confident line. But these qualities must also be attributed to the engravers who played a critical role in the creation of these illustrations. While Darley is given top billing as a designer, each illustration is credited with its own engraver. The engraver would cut the designs into metal with a tool called a burin, and the carved lines would then hold ink during printing. This process accounts for the sharp lines and rich tones that appear throughout the illustrations.

The Tomb
Designed by Felix O.C. Darley, engraved by George H. Cushman.

A frequent subject within Sigourney’s poems is death and mortality. This subject would account for one of the more unique illustrations in the book, titled The Tomb. While the illustration appears at first glance to be a landscape, a deeper mystery pervades the surroundings, with buttresses carved into stone and a marble tomb sinking into the ground, visited by a robed figure. These details complement the haunting tone of Sigourney’s poem, a mediation upon the solitary nature of death.

Illustrated Poems may be viewed in Falvey Library’s Rare Book Room during walk-in hours (Wednesdays 9:30-11:30am and Thursdays 2-4pm) or by appointment. The book may also be viewed online through the Falvey Library catalog or the Internet Archive.

Curious to know more about the engraving process? This blog post from the Metropolitan Museum of Art shows a step-by-step guide to this printmaking process.

Finally, to see more poetry selections from Distinctive Collections, please visit the new library exhibit Poetic License, which opens Monday, February 6 on Falvey Library’s first floor.