In cursing e-readers and extolling the virtues of dusty, tree-killing books, one risks blowing the trumpet of the curmudgeonly grump.
Nevertheless, while books may not necessarily make for a better reading experience, they are superior as subject matter for a photo project. (I defy you, dear reader, to find a loving portrait of a Nook.)
To wit, witness Kerry Mansfieldâs âExpired,â a series whose substance is the physicality of discarded and withdrawn library books. She brings the lens in close, showing worn edges and torn covers and photographing the ephemera of the library experience: the check-out cards and the paper pockets they went into, for example. She includes beloved titles like Harper Leeâs âTo Kill a Mockingbirdâ and Dr. Seussâs âHop on Pop,â but also obscure ones like Evelyn Sibley Lampmanâs âThe Shy Stegosaurus of Cricket Creek.â
Ms. Mansfield is not a big reader herself, she confessed. But the nostalgic tug of the old cards and the books theyâre glued to compelled her to photograph, as she characterized it, obsessively.
This relationship with books is textural â" the dog-eared corners or the imprints left by scrawls in the margins are what appeal to Ms. Mansfieldâs eye. There is one book from the Hadley Library with âmold damage on it, and thatâs beautiful to me,â she said.
âI also truly love paper,â she said. âI donât know how else to put that.â
Her photographs also reveal details that will disappear as scanners replace cards and tablets replace books. On one card, there is evidence of elementary school studentsâ struggles with cursive as they tried to write their own names. There is Janie, who must have either loved or had trouble grasping âHenry Hugginsâ by Beverly Cleary, because she kept renewing it from January to May 1998 (Slide 6).
Before this project, Ms. Mansfield confronted a Job-like series of challenges, first battling breast cancer (the subject of her photo series âAftermathâ) and then sustaining a wrist injury at work that required scores of surgeries. But she was able to find a bright spot in those troubles â" with her newfound free time, she was able to pursue personal and fine art projects.
âExpiredâ began with Ms. Mansfieldâs idea of photographing classics of teen and childrenâs literature, but as she started to collect specimens, some titles wowed her â" books popular in decades past, unbeknownst to Ms. Mansfield, like âTabitha Dingleâ by Elsie M. Alexander. She contacted her local elementary school to suggest exchanging 20 new books for 20 old, but it was against school policy to accept new donations. As a compromise, they sent her the slips, cards and other pieces from the old books.
Since then, she has scoured the Internet and garage sales, her eyes always open for a book that bears a âWithdrawnâ or âDiscardedâ stamp. âItâs a bit of treasure hunt,â she said. Her partner is involved, too, taking to eBay to such an extent that she worries heâll bankrupt her. She has made nearly 1,300 images and has giant plastic tubs in her home filled with books, waiting to have their portraits taken.
With Ms. Mansfieldâs treatment, these books become more like artifacts than bundles of knowledge or diversion. They summon a time when the librarian was a formidable figure and an overdue book portended Armageddon. Penalties of two cents, raised to five cents. âAll injuries to books beyond reasonable wear and all losses shall be made good to the satisfaction of the Librarian,â one card reads.
As for making good to the satisfaction of Ms. Mansfield, I asked her, when does âExpiredâ expire? She told me that sheâd like to photograph a few more.
And then turn it all into a book.
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