I’m back at that point in my life when I frantically look around for the genes that I can blame for my various shortcomings. One more cupboard of clothes or crockery will have to be emptied to make way of growing piles of books on tables, the floor, on the bed… Thankfully, I have not one, but four grandparents to blame for this disease! My siblings and I must surely have been the most pampered to spend summer holidays with grandparents who had libraries. This is apart from the innumerable book shelves that overflowed in all the rooms of my parents’ home. And the flavour of the collections in all the houses was different.
I’ve got a few books from my Mysore Thatha’s library. And they each say a lot about him. That though he was a brilliant engineer who rose to the very top of his profession and commanded the utmost respect from all his contemporaries, he was always broke. Most of the books of his I’ve seen, have been bought in second hand stores.
Then, since his family moved around all over south India (Madras Presidency) and his precious books had to be packed and repacked, he felt they needed structural re-enforcement (he was a civil engineer). As a kid, I watched open-mouthed as Thatha took out his mini-leather suitcase that had his sewing kit (he sewed on his own shirt buttons and darned his own socks!) and a few ‘cobbler’s tools’. With a thick cobbler’s needle, he’d drive in three holes into the left edge of a paperback and deftly use a kind of blanket stitch that you see on shoes, to strengthen the binding against all eventual transfers up and down south India.
The books shown here are ‘Armed Services Editions’ that were brought out by the US government and distributed free to their troops all over the world during WW 11. Mysore Thatha had told me that during the war, there’d been acute shortages of everything – food, metals, medicines and even paper, which is why these editions were miniaturised.
The books I have are extremely fragile, and have lasted this long only because of Thatha’s cobbler stitch. Also, he covered each book in brown paper the way school kids do. It’s touching to remember how much he worshiped his acquisitions…above the title of every book, Thatha always wrote ‘Om’ in Kannada. When I googled ‘Armed Services Editions’ (ASE) I was surprised to discover the adventurous lives these books had led, before retiring peacefully to a Mysore library.
The ASE represents the most mammoth book printing effort in history. Between 1942 and 1947, the US-based ASE printed 123 million paperbacks, covering over a 130 authors from every genre. It was a time when people only bought hardbacks, so some clever product designer figured out a way to use the rotary presses that printed the monthly paperback digests, for the ASE effort. The armed forces worked with (or twisted the arm of) publishers and eventually managed to bring out each book at the cost of just 6 cents! The books were shipped out to Europe, the Pacific and Asia, across the theatre of war, to be distributed free of cost to US servicemen. And they were produced to be read and thrown, so as not to flood the US book market, post-war! Yet they lived on, in Thatha’s library in Mysore, and now in mine.
I found a fabulous virtual exhibition on the ASE at the University of Virginia’s website, set up by an enthusiastic undergrad in the 1990s. It’s really about the dawn of the paperback, as we know it. Check it out.