Though the hardcover edition is out of print, you can still buy the trade paperback version (Vintage; $14) through any bookstore. And I recommend that you do. It is an extraordinary book in all ways—there is not one thing to criticize about it—which is saying a lot for a book whose foundation begins in engineering.

Until I discovered Petroski, I had no idea that engineering could be the least bit interesting. I might never have discovered him had I not seen that particular book. I am a softie for books about books. My collection includes about 40 of them. So when I saw this book with its exquisite cover design, I snatched it up. A quick browse told me it was not only well written, but done in an intelligent (but not technical) and entertaining way.

And so it has proven. I’ve read this book at least ten times. I just finished it again last week, and felt compelled to write about it now because it is so damn good that you should read it too. As Petroski points out, we readers and booklovers rarely see the shelves on which our books sit. We see the books, which is natural. But the heretofore unseen shelves, a fascinating study in themselves, are so intertwined with the history of the book’s development that the resulting story is a grab-you-by-the-throat historical, social, cultural and technological journey more compelling than any fictional tale.

“While reading in my chair late one evening,” he writes, “I perceived, for whatever reason, the bookshelf beneath a row of books in a new light . . . I wanted to know more about the nature and origins of this ubiquitous thing. But where to begin? Was it meaningful to ask why the bookshelf is horizontal and why books are placed vertically upon it? Or are these facts so obvious as to need no explanation? Going further, was there anything to be gained by asking why we shelve our books with their spines facing outward, or is this simply the only logical way to shelve them? Don’t books go on bookshelves as nuts go on bolts, only one way?”

The answer is no, but it is how he reaches that answer that makes the book as revealing as it is fascinating. He begins his exploration not with history but with a meandering, contemplative stroll. “The bookshelf, like the book, has become an integral part of civilization as we know it . . . [and] influences our behavior.” Those various behaviors—authors and politicians posing in front of bookshelves, fake “bookshelves” as television backdrops—amuse and interest him, and you can almost see him writing about them with a smile on his lips.

Though some may argue that cave paintings were the first “books,” Petroski points out that the first books of writings were scrolls of papyrus. These were called volumina from the Latin voluminum, the word from which we get “volume.” The size of these scrolls varied but were, on average, 9 to 11 inches across and perhaps 20 or 30 feet long. Works could occupy several rolls. They were read from left to right so that the read portion could be rolled up in the left hand while the right one let out new text. Rods were occasionally attached to the end and could also be used as early versions of paperweights.

When not in use, they were kept rolled up and often tied, though valuable scrolls might have their own sleeve, a variation of today’s slipcase. Each scroll was given its own tag at the end with identifying information on it. Some were placed in box containers, but most were put on wall shelves fitted with pigeonholes. The famous Alexandrian Library is believed to have had hundreds of thousands of these scrolls.

Soon, however, codices or bound manuscripts replaced scrolls. Its form is the one that still exists today, and it was originally made by folding over flat sheets of papyrus or parchment and sewing them together into a binding between wooden boards. By the beginning of the fourth century, the codex had become the dominant medium for preserving writings. But while these two very different forms were used, the problem of storing two such different forms arose. The unsightliness of the two may have been the reason for the development of the closed cabinet or armarium.

The closed cabinet worked fine for one or two. But where books were made available to the many, relatively speaking, other precautions were needed. Because manuscripts were almost entirely religious in orientation and were duplicated by painstaking hands-on effort by literate monks, they were precious artifacts found primarily at monasteries. (Literacy was not widespread.) By the Middle Ages, most monasteries took the precaution of appointing a librarian whose job was to track the each book and protect it from damage. Because libraries were small—several tens of volumes was common—the books that were not “checked out” by individual monks were often kept in chests resembling elaborately carved foot lockers with multiple locks and keys stored with two or three individuals.

As the number of books grew, the demand for easier accessibility (while still maintaining security), bright rooms for adequate light and more space led to the development of long, wide lecterns similar to church pews which were located in the center of multi-windowed rooms. Sloped surfaces above the benches allowed the books to be displayed front side out or opened up for reading. Security was assured by chaining the books to the lectern, a practice that lasted as late as 1799. These heavy iron chains were attached to the top, bottom or fore edge of the books’ wooden-and-leather covers with the other end clamped onto a metal rod much like shower curtain rings. This made them portable in a sense since they could be removed from one rod and attached to another, but it was still highly inconvenient—and space-wasting.

The next development was the addition of flat shelving above the lectern, though interestingly the shelves were probably used to stack the books that were not being used horizontally. “It may never be known,” write Petroski, “how and when it occurred to a librarian . . . to arrange the books vertically on the shelf . . ..” He further goes on to note that “vertical shelving of books did not come about until they could no longer be accommodated easily in the horizontal position—not, that is, until overcrowding severely taxed the stall system.”

As much as this improvement resulted in shelves that resemble modern bookshelves (even to the overcrowding point), the most common feature of books on modern bookshelves—the spines facing out—was completely unknown then. The reason was twofold: spines did not contain information about the books and the chains were often attached to the fore edge, the most natural place since it allowed them to hang down. Spine information was not needed since books were found with the help of postings of the shelves' contents placed at the end of each row.

Around the fifteenth century, bindings began to grow more elaborate and by the mid-sixteenth century names, titles and edition date began appearing on spines. (France and Italy were doing this even earlier.) Though not all books were being shelved spine out—fore edge painted books, for example, were generally not—the trend was moving in this direction.

The next change was the appearance of wall shelves where a room was encircled with bookcases all facing a large empty center space, though as the profusion of books grew shelves began to jut out into the center. Once again, need (or shall we say desperation) produced new designs.

Today, bookshelves come in all types, all sizes, all materials. They are portable or permanent. They can be tall or short, have long shelves (producing that peculiar but common phenomenon to a overlong, overcrowded shelf, sag) or short. They can be narrow or deep leading to the question of whether the books should come to the forefront of the shelf, back up against the rear or be somewhere in between. They can be built into a wall or be used as a wall in a place where there is no permanent divider between rooms. They can even be holders for knickknacks rather than books, though whether they could then be called bookshelves is arguable. But it is certain that if you are reading this that whatever your shelves are made of, whatever they look like, they are filled with books. Spine out and if you are anything like me, spilling over.

“The stories of the evolution of the book and the bookshelf,” notes Petroski, “truly are inseparable, and both are examples in the evolution of technology.” It’s no small irony that many of those decrying the use of technology to replace the print book with the e-book may have forgotten that both the book as we know it today and the bookshelf are themselves technological advances. And, as he further points out, “because technology does not exist independent of the social and cultural environments in which it is embedded and which it in turn significantly influences, the history of a technological artifact like the book or the bookshelf cannot be understood fully without also addressing its seemingly non-technological aspects.”

The Book on the Bookshelf succeeds at doing just that. It is a vast, complex (but not difficult) and utterly fascinating journey not only through bookshelves, books and even reading, and it has my highest recommendation. The new paperback version is still available through your local bookstore, but you can also find good used copies on AddALL—currently 326 ranging in price from $1.25 to $40.


Almost since her childhood days of Mother Goose, Lauren has been giving her opinion on books to anyone who will listen. That “talent” eventually took her out of magazine writing and into book reviewing in 2000 for an online review site where she cut her teeth (as well as a few authors). Stints as book editor for her local newspaper and contributing editor to Booklist and Bookmarks magazines have reinforced her belief that she has interesting things to say about books. Lauren shares her home with several significant others including three cats, 750 bookmarks and nearly 1,000 books that, whether previously read or not, constitute her to-be-read stack. She can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it