1911 Encyclopedia Britannica

During this Christmas week, while enjoying a meal at home with a guest, a question arose. The three of us pondered it, but didn't know the answer. I went into the living room and fetched a volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica. I was confident that an answer could be found there quickly. I was wrong, but we certainly had fun looking!

We started in the G's with an article on the Greek language. Next I pulled Volume 1 and perused the article on Alphabets. Fascinating charts of many, many of the world's alphabets! None of them answered our question, but soon we were happily distracted by other articles beginning with "A" or "G."  Our guest became engrossed in the long article on Africa; then all of us peered at historic maps of which colonial powers used to claim which sections of that vast continent. I pointed out where I had been on my first trip to Africa (and first-ever airplane ride!) in 1964. (The Gambia was then in its final months of being a British colony.)

The 1911 encyclopedia didn't know about these coming independence movements, nor about airplanes. The article on Aeronautics had amused me as a kid– it was out-of-date, full of dirigibles, but no airplanes. But on some subjects we respected the wisdom in this reference set. Daddy studied the article on Chess, learned classic strategies, and significantly improved his game. I studied the article on Snakes when I was writing a paper for a Holton High School biology assignment.

In Danvers, in our new (1957- ) home, bookshelves were built into the north wall of the living room. There was ample room for books of all sorts. Old novels and history books were up high. Reference books were on lower shelves, convenient for children or for anyone seated nearby in a chair.  The 20-volume Book of Knowledge (The Children's Encyclopedia) was on the right side, near an edition of the World Book Encyclopedia. The 28 thin volumes of the old leather-bound Encyclopedia Britannica (Eleventh edition, 1910-1911) were on the left. The paper inside was very, very thin, to be handled with care. 

In 1965-66, as I studied for a Library Services degree at Columbia University, I learned about the history of encyclopedias and the reasons why so many libraries retain the 11th edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica. It was special as the last edition produced in Britain in the old style, with long articles researched, written, and signed by noted scholars. It was WORTH keeping. (Later editions were shorter and produced in the U.S. for American readers.)

In the 1990's when I worked as a reference librarian in the Mount Holyoke College Library, there were several sets of the 11th edition, including one with 29 volumes; volume 29 contained a detailed index to the rest of the set; we kept it handy near the Reference desk.  

My father eventually gave me the set that had been in Danvers, and I treasured it, though I was dismayed that the leather spines were deteriorating badly, leaving brown marks on clothing whenever I held one in my lap. After some years I decided to have the set re-bound. Now all the spines are intact, with a smooth cloth binding of dark green. 

This week, after enjoying excursions into the scholarly British articles, I pulled out a one-volume American encyclopedia and found the information we needed. Our "simple" question about the sequence of Greek letters used in naming COVID-19 virus variations wasn't so simple – not until we found an American list of the Greek alphabet with names beside each symbol. "Omicron" is the 15th letter. We already knew Delta was 4th, and expected "Epsilon" to be next. Clearly, there have been many other virus variants in between the 4th and 15th that didn't cause harm or make enough news for us to hear their names. It's also clear that we hadn't memorized the Greek alphabet beyond the early part (alpha-beta- gamma-delta-epsilon... ), nor did we feel like interrupting our social visit to consult the internet via a computer.  Sometimes it is really fun to get lost in books.