reviews Book Reviews 199 solutions, realizing that the evidence is not up to that; but she does a fine job of bringing most of the issues together into a thought-provoking whole. In today’s kaleidoscopic world of information tech­ nology, no work can be timeless, but From Gutenberg promises to have a more ex­ tended shelf life than most.—David Henige, University of Wisconsin at Madison. Conaway, James. America’s Library: The Story of the Library of Congress, 1800– 2000. Foreword by James H. Billington; Introduction by Edmund Morris. New Haven, Conn.: Yale Univ. Pr., in asso­ ciation with the Library of Congress, 2000. 226p. $45, alk. paper (ISBN 0-300-08308-4). LC 99-058751. James Conaway’s history of the Library of Congress focuses on the thirteen Li­ brarians of Congress who have served our national library for the past two hun­ dred years. The accomplishments of each are examined in the context of contem­ porary historical events. The first Librar­ ian of Congress, John James Beckley (1801–1807), appointed by Thomas Jefferson, served concurrently as clerk of the House of Representatives. His dual career ended with his death on April 8, 1807, when he was succeeded by Patrick Magruder (1807–1815), the second Librar­ ian of Congress, also appointed by Jefferson. During the presidency of James Madison Magruder continued the dual role of clerk and librarian. In the course of an attack on Washington by the British during the War of 1812, the Library of Congress was totally lost to fire. The li­ brary survived due to the purchase of Jefferson’s private collection of 6,487 vol­ umes for the price of $23,950 in the win­ ter of 1814. Magruder ’s successor, George Watterson (1815–1829), appointed third Librarian of Congress by President Madi­ son, was the first librarian charged with serving in the position without taking on the additional duty of House clerk. A po­ litical activist, Watterson matched wits with General Andrew Jackson and lost when Jackson won the presidency. Presi­ dent Jackson appointed the fourth Librar­ ian of Congress, John Silva Meehan (1829– 1861), a former publisher with a more pleasing personality than his predecessor, who served under nine presidents, from Jackson to Buchanan. The apex of his ten­ ure was the designation of the Library of Congress, along with the Smithsonian Institution, as the official depositories for copyrighted works in 1846. The nadir came five years later, in 1851, when fire destroyed 35,000 volumes, including two-thirds of the original Jefferson collec­ tion purchased in 1814. Appointed the fifth Librarian of Con­ gress by President Abraham Lincoln, John G. Stephenson (1861–1864) spent most of his tenure as a colonel in the Union army. He is remembered best for bringing in as his principal assistant, Ainsworth Rand Spofford (1864–1897). When Stephenson resigned from his position at the end of December 1864, Lincoln lost no time in appointing Spofford (1864–1897) as the sixth Librarian of Congress on New Year’s Eve that same year. Serving under nine presidencies, from Lincoln through the second presidency of Cleveland, Spofford saw the Library of Congress through its metamorphosis from legisla­ tive resource to national cultural institu­ tion. Under legislation signed by Presi­ dent Ulysses S. Grant in 1870, the Library of Congress became the sole depository for copyrighted works, a role previously shared with the Smithsonian. The mag­ nificent Library of Congress edifice that today graces the Washington landscape was Spofford’s brainchild. President William McKinley appointed John Russell Young (1897–1899) the sev­ enth Librarian of Congress. Young is re­ membered for presiding over the open­ ing of the then new Library of Congress and for increasing its international hold­ ings. He died in office in January 1899. Young’s successor, also appointed by McKinley, was Herbert Putnam (1899– 1939), who served under eight presidents, from McKinley to Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Putnam’s forty-year tenure surpassed that of any other Librarian of 200 College & Research Libraries Congress. His administrative acumen was put to the supreme test as he cared for the library’s treasures during World War I. Before and after the war, Putnam acquired major collections elevating the Library of Congress to one of the world’s great libraries. Appointed by President Franklin Roosevelt, Archibald MacLeish (1939– 1944) is remembered for his administra­ tive reorganization of the ever-burgeoning Library of Congress and for inspiring the library staff throughout the trying years of World War II. One of MacLeish’s most valuable contributors was his appointment of Luther H. Evans as head of the Legisla­ tive Reference Service and later chief as­ sistant librarian. In June 1945, about six months after MacLeish’s resignation, President Harry S. Truman appointed Evans (1945–1953) to serve as the tenth Librarian of Congress. During Evans’s ten­ ure, the Library of Congress collection grew to almost 32 million items, includ­ ing current acquisitions of remarkable quality. He resigned in the summer of 1953 to the newly elected President Dwight D. Eisenhower and assumed the position of director-general of the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Or­ ganization (UNESCO). President Eisenhower appointed L. Quincy Mumford (1954–1974) as the elev­ enth Librarian of Congress. Mumford, who served under five presidents, from Eisenhower to Gerald R. Ford, was the first professionally trained librarian to be nominated in the 154 years of the library’s existence. He saw the library through two decades of unprecedented growth in both holdings and staff. Moreover, he re­ quested and received an increase in an­ nual expenditures from $9.4 million to almost $97 million. The James Madison Memorial Building of the Library of Con­ gress, which was not be completed and open to the public until 1980, was his brainchild. Appointed by President Ford, Daniel J. Boorstin (1975–1987), the twelfth Librar­ ian of Congress, was the grandson of Russian Jewish immigrants. A distin- March 2001 guished writer, lawyer, and historian, Boorstin championed the role of the book in the diffusion of knowledge and was instrumental in President Jimmy Carter’s signing of legislation in October 1977 that created the Center for the Book at the Li­ brary of Congress. Boorstin officiated at the opening of the new Madison Build­ ing in November 1981 during the presi­ dency of Ronald Reagan. The thirteenth and current Librarian of Congress, James H. Billington (1987 to present) was appointed by President Reagan, and to date has served under three presidents, from Reagan to William Jefferson Clinton. An authority on Rus­ sian history, Billington has brought a glo­ bal perspective to the challenges of ad­ ministration of the nation’s great library and has worked tirelessly to find new ways to widen access to its treasures, in­ cluding the American Memory digitiza­ tion project. James Conaway, author of eight books and former Washington editor of Harper’s, has written an extremely fascinating ac­ count; however, the lack of references proves a serious drawback to researchers who want access to the source of facts and quotations. A bibliography of more than one hundred and fifty items and a good index serve to soften the blow. Conaway’s very readable prose is unfortunately re­ plete with passages illustrating the lamen­ table fact that the previous grammatical taboo of split infinitives is now widely accepted and practiced. The result of a collaborative venture between Yale Uni­ versity Press and the Library of Congress, the volume itself is beautifully conceived and designed with a pleasing type font, plenty of white space, and sharply fo­ cused black-and-white and color illustra­ tions, including photographs, maps, po­ litical cartoons, and reproductions of art­ works. Conaway’s two-century history of the Library of Congress will be a popular addition to other works on the Library of Congress’s history, including David C. Mearns’s The Story Up to Now: The Library of Congress, 1800–1946 (Library of Con­ Book Reviews 201 gress, 1947), and a complement to the ex­ quisite coffee-table book American Trea­ sures of the Library of Congress (Abrams, 1997).—Plummer Alston Jones Jr., Catawba College. Douglas, J. Yellowlees. The End of Books— Or Books without End?: Reading Interac­ tive Narratives. Ann Arbor: Univ. of Michigan Pr., 2000. 205p. $34.50, alk. paper (ISBN 0-472-11114-0). LC 99-6689. I think it was a combination of the dooms­ day title, the breathless, schoolgirl- with-a-crush tone in the acknowledg­ ments to this book, and the first of several grammatical errors that initially put me off J. Yellowlees Douglas’s The End of Books. The “Interactive Narrative Timeline” prefacing the text challenged me in a different way: Did I agree with Dou­ glas that Laurence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy (1759), Joyce’s Ulysses (1914), and Ford Madox Ford’s The Good Soldier (1915) were interactive narratives in the same family as Michael Joyce’s afternoon (1990) and Geoff Ryman’s 253 (1996)? If all of these were interactive narratives, what kind of narratives weren’t “interactive?” Could a lyric poem be interactive? What about plays published in print, but not acted upon the stage? Was Douglas (University of Florida) confusing the experimental (and author-determined) fictions of Sterne with the supposedly reader-driven choices offered in hypertext fiction? Douglas’s Index to advertisers AIAA 108, 154 Archival Products 163 BIOSIS 179 CHOICE 172, 195 EBSCO cover 4 Faxon/RoweCom cover 2 Gwathmey Siegel & Assocs. 164 Haworth Press 107 Library Technologies 146 netLibrary 114-115 OCLC 111 Primary Source Microfilm cover 3 book is an attempt to answer these sorts of questions, to provide a theory of how interactive narratives work for both author and reader. In the introductory chapter, Douglas offers a review of the recent publishing and critical history of hypertext narra­ tives, citing both the continuities and the disjunctions between publishing on the Web and publishing in print. Canonical works such as Jane Austen’s Emma are available “free” online, whereas Joyce’s afternoon and Douglas’ s own short hypertext fiction “I Have Said Nothing” achieve near-canonicity by appearing in a Norton anthology, Postmodern American Fiction (1997). She defines interactive texts as “those that contain episodes in the form of chunked text and a range of action ac­ companying a single decision” and “joined together by links.” She further subdivides interactive narratives into two types: hypertext fictions, which are text based, and “digital narratives,” which are image based. These slippery definitions allow for a wide range of authorial prod­ uct, from computer games to novels; the terms seem to be used interchangeably throughout the book. In the remainder of her book, Douglas presents her theories on the connections between avant-garde fiction (the earliest interactive fictions?) and hypertext, on how readers piece together discrete pieces of text to form stories. She wishes to ex­ plore in particular the “aesthetic, cogni­ tive, and physical aspects of reading … when narratives have no singular, physi­ cal ending.” We, like Scheherazade’s lis­ tener, have a desire for the inexhaustible story—a desire that interactive stories fulfill. But instead of “saying the same thing” every time you read it (as Douglas claims print forms of narrative do), in­ teractive narratives remove stories from the confines of the static, linear, printed page. In a reversal of the print revolution Elizabeth Eisenstein posited, hypertext allows the reader to return to a preindustrial fluidity and freedom from the austerity of print. Interactive narra­ tives have no definite beginnings and