Gibson Girls and Library Treasures

Any library that has been around long enough will house some random treasures, usually donated items that some good-natured librarian could neither refuse nor discard. One such example from our library is a signed limited edition of "The Education of Mr. Pipp," a series of illustrations by Charles Dana Gibson, published in New York by R. H. Russell in 1899.

Gibson (1867-1944) became a very wealthy man from the many satirical sketches of high society that he created over a 20-year period starting the mid-1890s, and the Mr. Pipp series depicts a selection of events in the life of a young man, as he makes the transition from bachelorhood to well-trained husband. Augustus Thomas created a stage play based on the sketches in 1905, and a silent film version was produced in 1914.
Of course, the primary subject of the sketches was not Mr. Pipp, but rather the woman he married. The so-called Gibson Girl was the de facto model of the ideal American woman - beautiful, well-shaped, well-dressed, independent, spirited, and definitely in charge.

The early models for the Gibson Girl included Gibson's wife Irene Langhorne, and the Belgian-American stage actress Camille Clifford, famous for her hourglass figure and big hair. In the early 1900s, the popular artists' model Evelyn Nesbit came to dominate the image. With the advent of the First World War, the Gibson Girl faded in popularity, to be replaced by the new standard of American womanhood - the flapper.

Gibson's memory lives on through the cocktail that bears his name, reflecting his preference for gin martinis with a pickled onion garnish.

What Makes a Book Valuable?

I was also asked recently about the most valuable book in our library. Unlike the question about the oldest book, the answer to this question is far more complicated to determine.

 
Among the seemingly most valuable books in the library is a complete run of the Gentleman's Magazine (pictured above), from 1731 to 1868. The age, condition, completeness, and relative availability (or lack thereof) of this set all contribute to its value. In more blatant financial terms, in some cases, individual articles sell for thousands of dollars, while individual issues or volumes can sell for a few hundred dollars each.

With respect to individual works, our library also possesses a copy of Robert Wood's The Ruins of Palmyra, published in London in 1753, a copy of which recently sold in New York for $7500. As is obvious from the picture below, this volume is a precursor of what we would now call a coffee table book, with this one actually being big enough and heavy enough to serve as a coffee table.

Not only is this a big book, but it also contains some big surprises, like the engraving illustrated below. Much of the value of this work is associated with its existence as an expression of material culture.

With both of these examples, an insurance adjuster will want to know the replacement cost, and a rare book dealer will want to know how much a collector is willing to pay for such a work. What does a librarian want to know?

For that answer, we turn to the writings of Indian mathematician and librarian Shiyali Ramamrita Ranganathan (d. 1972), recognized as one of the founding fathers of modern library science. Among his five laws of library science, the first three are: books are for use, every reader, his or her book, and every book its reader. If our copies of the Gentleman's Magazine and The Ruins of Palmyra sit on the shelf and are never used by anyone, are they of any value at all?