the magic of parchment

 

As I talk to classes about the history of books and writing, I frequently introduce parchment and vellum -- that is, animal skins which have been treated to produce smooth, permanent surfaces for writing or printing.  When the topic comes up, I've been interested to hear that many students were first introduced to the idea of parchment through literature.  Even more interesting is the series which many of them associate with this historical and still-produced writing surface: J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter books.

One of only 500 copies of the first edition of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, held in Cushing Library.

As much as I've enjoyed reading the series with my children, I have a bit of a quarrel with J. K. Rowling's depiction of libraries and librarians.  Have you ever noticed how useless the students' time in the library is?  Even when Hermione Granger is spending all her free time scouring the books, Harry never seems able to find answers to his questions.  Things are barely more productive when he gains permission to enter the Forbidden Section (and really, when you think about it, Cushing Library is nothing but the Forbidden Section of Texas A&M's Libraries). Maybe Madame Pince isn't much of a librarian.

In the magical world of Harry Potter, parchment appears as a standard replacement for paper.  While Harry and his friends use quills to take notes and submit class assignments on parchment, the material seems much more paper-like than like the examples we examined in class yesterday.    One of the issues that appears with parchment as it is depicted in Rowling's books is that it can be easily torn.  The first appearance of the substance is in the mysterious letter which Harry receives (which will eventually include his invitation to Hogwarts).  It is described as "thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment."

Later, Harry's Uncle Vernon is able to tear multiple letters up at once, and throughout the series, students tear strips off of their homework for other uses.  I know that I risk being pedantic, but it's clear that this material doesn't bear much resemblance to the surface we felt in class.  One of the interesting features of parchment is that while it can be cut, even the most delicate vellums (including examples which have been split, making the sheets very thin and almost translucent) resist being torn.  Even though I didn't encourage you to try with the twelfth and fifteenth-century manuscript leaves we were looking at yesterday, I'm confident in saying that it can't easily be done.

 

So while I'm pleased that so many students recall their introduction to parchment from reading Harry's use of it, I wish that more would come into Cushing to examine some real, non-magical examples.  I think the quality of the surface, the telltale pores which mark the hair side, and the many uses to which it has been put are wonderful enough on their own.