bookreviews Book Reviews 295 gument. She describes the emergence of bibliographic instruction as a distinct pro­ fessional activity that has transformed the way that college and university librarians define their roles. Despite the large num­ ber of students and librarians who are in­ volved in BI, school administrations often fail to understand the role of the librarian in instruction. The author ’s argument, that libraries do not function as the “heart of the university,” also involves the roles played by library directors. Most directors are not involved in campus decisions on information technology; no do they par­ ticipate at the highest levels of the university’s administration. Grimes presents concepts of centrality through an examination of organizational theory and through studies on resource allocation and retrenchment. In an at­ tempt to find out what chief academic and executive officers think of library central­ ity, the author conducted a survey of five universities. She describes the universities and discusses their leaders’ responses. The results of the survey show that most administrators believe that the metaphor of the library as the “the heart of the uni­ versity ” is an exaggeration. They empha­ sized that library centrality can only be based on the library’s contributions to the university’s mission of teaching and re­ search, as well as its national recognition or ranking. The strength of Grimes’s analysis is in her use of powerful theoretical and his­ torical models to analyze higher educa­ tion. Although she admits that there are weaknesses in the use of grounded theory methodology, she uses it successfully to generate conceptual categories from facts. Grimes has been very successful in iden­ tifying concepts and theories that reflect views of academic library centrality in ac­ tual library experience. Academic Library Centrality contains a wealth of references for those interested in pursuing this topic in greater detail. It is highly recommended to library administrators who hope to achieve library centrality at their own in- stitutions.—Constantia Constantinou, Iona College, New Rochelle, NY. Kilgour, Frederick G. The Evolution of the Book. New York and Oxford: Oxford Univ. Pr., 1998. 180p. $35, alk. paper (ISBN: 0-19-511859-6). LC 97-14430. The advent of electronic communication has triggered a boom in studies on the his­ tory and future of “the book.” For much of the 1990s, it has been one of the major growth areas in humanities scholarship, invading disciplines and posing new questions of old material. “The book” has become code for anything and everything involved in the creation, production, dis­ semination, and reception of texts: au­ thors authoring, scribes scribbling, print­ ers printing, booksellers selling, readers reading. We have a veritable armada of monographs and articles on “the book” confronting us, much of it sensitive to new types of evidence appropriate for new questions and issues. That being said, the appearance of a new monograph on “the evolution of the book” would seem to require some com­ pelling justification. Professor Kilgour be­ lieves he has precisely that: “Through his­ torical analysis of the societal needs that have invoked the transformations of the book, and the technologies that have shaped them, The Evolution of the Book aims to shed light on the present emergence of the electronic book.” He finds his light in technology, and his monograph is a com­ pact summary of successive technologies of nonverbal communication from the Sumerians to the present. His argument is, baldly put, that every improvement in the technology of the book has resulted in the speedier production and dissemi­ nation of knowledge and information. The problem is that neither the focus nor the argument has anything especially helpful to offer by way of a compass for the present. Reducing the history of the book to a history of technology conveniently ig­ nores the wealth of social, cultural, and economic evidence we now have avail­ able on the topic. Moreover, Kilgour ’s “bullet train” approach to the history of book technologies is an odd reprise of a style of history writing that I had thought 296 College & Research Libraries May 1999 long gone. If anyone is anxious about the demise of the idea of progress, relief may be found in this volume, which enthusi­ astically catalogues the march of techno­ logical progress across the millennia. In Kilgour ’s narrative, the past ineluctably results in the present and points confi­ dently to the future. This is an engineer ’s view of history—neat, clear, and linear, the story of successive successes. Kilgour divides his story into seven “punctuations”—seven moments of “punctuated equilibria” when the status quo is suddenly interrupted and reori­ ented, when longue durée meets the spasm of innovation. These punctuations begin with the introduction of the clay tablets of remote antiquity and culminate in the “electronic book.” Although he does not tell us how he arrived at seven such periods (a number beloved of cabalists, apocalyptics, and developmental psychologists), Kilgour does refer us to Niles Eldredge and Stephan Jay Gould for the notion of punc­ tuated equilibria. This is an important ref­ erence for understanding how Kilgour con­ ceives of the historical process. Eldredge and Gould are, of course, scientists, and their frame of reference is geology—the his­ tory of the earth. Although Kilgour is not doing a history of nature, he writes as if he were. Thus, when he uses the word evolu­ tion, he does so in ways that suggest a natu­ ral rather than cultural process. “By the sec­ ond century A.D. the clay tablet was the Index to advertisers AIAA 210 Assoc. Research Libraries 204 BIOSIS 260 Blackwell’s Book Srvcs 274 CHOICE 298 EBSCO cover 4 Greenwood Publishing 223 ISI 244 Library Technologies 207 Library Technology Alliance cover 2 M. Moleiro Editor 259 North Waterloo Academic cover 3 OCLC 203, 231 Primary Source Media 290 first form of the book to have become ex­ tinct.” He really seems to believe that he has hit on some immutable process that regulates the course of technological cre­ ativity over time. What is this process? Like the idea of progress, it undergirds, it is straight out of the eighteenth-century Enlightenment. Man encounters problem, man solves prob­ lem; man discovers need, man satisfies need. Some examples: “A century and a half after Gutenberg the need for timely infor­ mation became sufficiently intense to bring newspapers into being.” “The need to record and transfer information, a need created largely by the growth of trade, ad­ ministration, and government in the city- states, gave rise to the invention of writing and the development of the clay tablet.” The codex displaced the scroll because of “the obvious savings of money in using both sides of the papyrus, the increased speed in production, and the greater ease in retrieving information from text.” This simple utilitarian model of historical pro­ cess does not differ significantly from that encountered in any number of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century accounts of the progress of mankind. Ascending through the punctuations, Kilgour gives us potted histories of peoples and civilizations, duly noting their particu­ lar “contributions” to the forward move­ ment of history. Thus, the Greeks contrib­ ute an alphabet with vowels, parchment, pens, and ink; Islam introduces paper from China; the Middle Ages adds silent read­ ing, subject indexes, and eyeglasses; and so forth, through Gutenberg, the industrial revolution, and the advent of the computer. The evolution of the book turns out to be a catalog of contributions, each of which builds on and improves its predecessors. Kilgour has had a distinguished career and has contributed much to the evolution of research libraries in the later twentieth century. The problem is that in this book he is not on his own turf. He is not a histo­ rian, and the past he offers us is not really history at all (which is messy and defies simple models of rational utility) but, rather, teleology. And like much teleology, this one is grounded in a particular theology: the religion of progress. You have to be a mem­ ber of this particular sect to appreciate whatever light it casts on the present. In the meanwhile, sceptics and agnostics will want to turn elsewhere for history and analysis.—Michael Ryan, University of Penn­ sylvania, Philadelphia, PA. Naked Science: Anthropological Inquiry into Boundaries, Power, and Knowledge. Ed. Laura Nader. New York: Routledge, 1996. 318p. $69.95 cloth, alk. paper (ISBN 0415914647); $22.95 paper (ISBN 0415914655). LC 95-23650. Nader, professor of anthropology at the University of California, Berkeley, con­ vened a four-part symposium at the Ameri­ can Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS) meetings in 1991 when she was head of Section H for anthropology. The papers in this edited volume stem from that multidisciplinary symposium, “An­ thropology of Science and Scientists,” and reflect its concerns: (1) “Is Science Univer­ sal?” (2) “The Study of Knowledge Forma­ tion and Its Use,” (3) “The Behavior of Sci­ entists,” and (4) “Science Traditions across Cultures.” Nader carefully sets the scene in the introduction, “Anthropological In­ quiry into Boundaries, Power and Knowl­ edge,” and gracefully closes it with her epi­ logue, “The Three-Cornered Constellation: Magic, Science and Religion Revisited.” The grounding in anthropological history is clear and present, but it does not intrude upon the accessibility of the intervening fourteen chapters, which read equally well as a whole or sampled here and there within the three parts. “Discovering Sci­ ence” is devoted to ethnoscience. It is fol­ lowed by “Culture, Power, and Context,” whose chapters deal with technoscience. The final part, “Conflicting Knowledge Sys­ tems,” explores areas in which ethno­ science and technoscience overlap. Many conclusions could be drawn from the selections included, but Nader is clear that this is not the intent. Instead, she en­ courages us to open our “minds to other ways of looking and questioning to change attitudes about knowledge, to reframe the Book Reviews 297 organization of science—to formulate ways of thinking globally about science tradi­ tions.” We are given ample opportunities to do this. The ethnoscience articles explore the idea of what constitutes science, from navi­ gation systems in Micronesia to highland Maya ethnomedicine for gastrointestinal diseases, from Canadian James Bay Cree hunting practices to everyday mathemati­ cal procedures and concepts about im­ mune systems in this country. The worlds of high-energy physicists, nuclear scien­ tists, and molecular biologists are analyzed in the technoscience portion of the book, providing fascinating glimpses of the Hu­ man Genome Project, nuclear tests as ritual, and the position of the various branches of physics in the academic and economic structure of Japan. Boundaries become more explicit in the third part of the collection where research on local knowledge is brought into juxta­ position with other knowledge systems. Chapters deal with fisheries management in New England, Inuit indigenous knowl­ edge versus Arctic science, and the U.S. sur­ veillance system developed to anticipate Soviet development of an atomic bomb. The last chapter in this section provides an illuminating comparison of the develop­ ment of the field of primatology in Japan and the West, with implications far beyond the subject matter of the discussion. It is here that we are reminded again of how easy it is to fall into the trap of finding that which we are seeking. This is a book for which table of contents indexing in library catalogs is so important because each of the chapters is complete unto itself and at a level of specificity quite distinct from “Knowledge, Sociology of ” or “Science —Philosophy” or “Power (Social Sciences).” Obviously, these are the realms being considered: it is the generation of knowledge, uncolored by the vestments of science, which we are invited to explore. The usefulness of this lens is that it might enable us to view more clearly the issues involved in the management of knowl- edge.—Joan Berman, Humboldt State Univer­ sity, Arcata, CA.