In this extraordinary memoir, certain to captivate anyone who's ever appreciated the feel of a good book, Annie Tremmel Wilcox deftly explores the artistry, traditions, and precise techniques of book making and restoration. Using excerpts from her diaries, newspaper articles, exhibit notices, and correspondence, Wilcox passionately recounts her experiences learning the art of making and preserving books as the first female apprentice to the renowned book binder and conservator William Anthony. At once rendering a gorgeous, moving scrapbook of her tutelage under this consummate craftsman, and expertly demystifing the fascinating technical processes of this centuries-old art form, A Degree of Mastery is a singular achievement certain to enchant book lovers and crafts- people alike.
"Wilcox describes the restoration processes . . . with such detail that one is left with the impression that he or she is actually learning the craft rather than merely reading about another's experience."-- Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
"True bibliophiles will find it hard to suppress a frisson of excitement as Wilcox recounts the techniques she and her colleagues used to bring crumbling manuscripts . . . back to life."-- Publishers Weekly
I love books as physical objects, and repairing damaged books was among my favorite tasks when I worked in a university library, so I thought I’d enjoy learning about traditional bookbinding techniques as the author learned them from Bill Anthony at the University of Iowa. Yet this was somehow disappointingly tedious with technical detail. (Purchased from The Open Book, Wigtown; read the first 57 pages of 209.)
A Degree of Mastery is a con. While it is A Journey Through Book Arts Apprenticeship, this is an unfair title for a book that is at least as much elegy as it is memoir and craft is really the vehicle through which we receive it. I want to be clear: I am ecstatic to have been fooled by this book. Annie Tremmel Wilcox craftily (heh) weaves vignettes of memoir, detailed explanations of craft, and reflection so clear it might have been purified. A Degree Of Mastery wants you to believe it's a treatise on Book Arts--and it is--but more than that it is a treatise on living a life with dreams and grief. I'll rewind: this book, on its face, is documentation of life as a Book Arts Apprentice. Wilcox herself is the subject and she clearly and simply explains the ins and outs of book binding and conservation from page one--she explains jargon so easily it's conversational--while interspersing the narrative with the sweet, silly humor of a TV grandmother. The narrative is broken up with journal entries, excerpts from books on craft, and explanation labels that Wilcox and her colleagues wrote for an exhibit on their work. Straddling the line between conversational and forma, Wilcox makes amazing allusions to past lives that makes her narration three dimensional and slips me slowly into investing. Okay, I picked up this book because I know the author. I have many times stated outright that I kind of dread reading books by people I know because I am so afraid of reviewing them. This time, I thought "well, book binding is probably cool," while clearly having exactly zero understanding of what book binding even is. (It turns out "preservation is the attempt to save the intellectual content of books while conservation is the attempt to save both the intellectual content and its vehicle...the former is concerned with saving what the human record contains without regard to the forms it winds up in. The latter focuses on the artifact itself, attempts to save *this* book, *this* sheet.") But what kept me reading when I realized I didn't know what I'd gotten myself into was Wilcox's vulnerability and honesty (in the book, not in real life). With each page, a layer is shaved away from the surface and we become nearly cocooned in the conservation department's family dynamic. She also got me invested in conservation, "Implicit in conservation...is the believe that the medium is part of the message--that a book which looks and feels and operates exactly like the original conveys something to the reader which the same thing in another format does not. It is safe to say that a person holding a copy of Walt Whitman's first edition of Leaves of Grass--an edition Whitman personally helped set the type for--experiences the poems differently than he would reading a microfilmed copy of it." So here is the real magic: Wilcox's treatment of bereavement is one of the very best I've ever read. It is simultaneously accurate and artful. It is a crystalline, beautiful depiction of the most difficult part of life. This is not a long section of the book, but it is maybe the most important. Deftly, Wilcox uses those aforementioned excerpts to provide reprieve and humor, add perspective, and speak to the audience in a way that adds nuance and rhythm to the book.
A delightful little memoir of Annie's apprenticeship in the art of book binding. Her story is actually two-fold as it is also the story of her deeply affectionate relationship with her renowned teacher, William Anthony. It is a love story...not a traditional one! It is the story of two people who love books; the physical, artistic book. Annie learns preservation and conservation, and the difference between the two. She also shares with us complete restorations. Books are art; from the lovely, soft leather with gilded etchings, to the jeweled covers which served only as art, as the books themselves, in some extreme cases, cannot even be opened. Annie walks at Bill's side until his death in 1989. Her grief is great at the loss of her mentor but she must carry on. This book is not for everyone, only those who truly love books!
This book details the experiences of the last apprentice to Bill Anthony, a world class book conservator working at the University of Iowa. The book alternates between describing the author going through book repair processes and the author learning and interacting with Bill Anthony.
The descriptions and specific language used make this book not an easy read for someone not in the field of bookbinding. However, as a book conservator and a bookbinder, I personally enjoyed all the gory details--how to repair and make your own tools, how to reback a leather book, etc.
(I'm teaching myself more these days about both bookmaking and book collecting, so I thought I'd start by reading the Chicago Public Library's collection of titles on these subjects.) A fascinating personal memoir but about as dry as such stories even get, this is an ultra-detailed look at what goes into the daily life of a professional book conservator, with Wilcox using her years as a Medieval-style apprentice in Iowa as a nice framing device for doling out entire chapters of information just on tools, chemicals, binding styles, and all kinds of other wonky issues when it comes to saving old manuscripts.
Annie Tremel Wilcox offers insights into her apprenticeship in book conservation. Her enthusiasm for books and the work shines through and makes me reflect on my own interest in the field. However, it would be a stretch to describe her as an engaging writer, and at many points she comes across as condescending and arrogant (which is really a big turn-off). Still, if you want to get a sense of what the field of conservation is like, there are few other narratives to help you along.
I just finished this book, and am very sorry it's over. It's not often that I feel this way about a book, but because I am an apprentice book binder, it really struck a lot of notes for me.
Annie Wilcox signed up for bookbinding classes with William Anthony, a noted book conservationist and fine binder. He had had a business in Chicago, and was lured to the University of Iowa to begin a program in book arts. She worked with him, and was a diligent student. After a time, he invited her to become an apprentice. This was notable in that she was his first female apprentice, and she was terrified, but wanted it badly. She needed to fulfill some other obligations first, and finally she started in.
Her descriptions of the processes, the tools she made for herself under Bill's guidance, and the progress she made are well-written. As a binder, it all made perfect sense to me. As a reader, I really appreciated her prose. That she completed a PhD in English is no surprise. It shows.
I have read elsewhere that readers had an issue with the flow. I didn't. It worked for me because I could understand what she was describing, and how it meshed with the way she detailed her early experiences.
The deeply distressing part of this is that after two years, Bill Anthony had been diagnosed with cancer. The grants were there to support her through the entire thing, but he wouldn't be. Everyone in the department was at sixes and sevens over this. When they had to mount an exhibition in the university library about their role in caring for collections, they essentially created a festschrift to their master.
I think she is not working as a conservator or binder these days, but am not sure. It would be a shame if she wasn't, simply because of the knowledge she built up during that brief time with Bill Anthony.
From the perspective of a person still learning, this small volume stands as a testament to the love that passed from master to apprentices. Bill Anthony knew how to treat people and he was a superb teacher. He took for granted that his students would pick it up, and they worked hard to meet that standard. His suggestions for improvements were soaked in and taken to heart. What he instilled in his students was pride in their craftsmanship and art. They truly wanted to uphold his standards and to do their absolute best. This is something I understand. While only Allah can make a perfect rug, a diligent book binder can create a book that opens and closes with ease, has a strong, long-lasting binding, and is beautiful to look at. Maybe not precisely perfect, but very, very close to it... A well-made book feels good in the hand and carries with it the joy of creation.
In the world of book preservation and conservation (I was tickled to read that those terms have probably never been delineated to anyone's complete satisfaction.), the task is different. One is preserving as much of the original as possible and conserving it for future readers. Mitigating damage, repairing damage...those are specific skills and I could see how Bill Anthony was able to pass on that kind of skill. The drive to do it correctly, and as well as she could, rested with the author. I believe she possessed that in spades, which is why he selected her as an apprentice. I am just so sorry she lost her master when she did. That she decided to become her own master and teach herself stands as a testament to the confidence he had inspired in her.
This is a specialized book. I'm not sure non-craftspersons will appreciate it entirely, and I am sure that book binders and conservators who have more experience than I will look upon this as an "Annie Dillard" type book. (Truthfully, she has surpassed Dillard.) She is not a spacey dreamer. She is grounded in her art and craft, and she writes clearly. On the other hand, for a person planning to take on apprentices, there is a lot to be learned from what she relates of her experiences with Bill Anthony. A master binder could take away some valuable lessons from her perception of how her apprenticeship was paced and how she was brought along. Also important is the warmth that emanated from Bill Anthony. His past apprentices who were not working to keep the craft alive and growing through teaching annoyed him. He maintained a lot of relationships, and in this he demonstrated how to *be* in this business.
For the record, this is a re-read. I first read this book way back in 2007 when i first purchased it, so its been 18 years since I last read this book.
I finished reading this book today - took about three days. For me, that is slow. It's a very slim book, barely 200 pages. Just 5 chapters. Usually I would have finished reading it in just one afternoon & evening.
This book is Annie's story of being an apprentice Booksbinder. This is not an easy book to read. Certainly not a fast book. But it is short. Book binding and Book Conservation are a somewhat heavy subject matter with a lot of jargon and vocabulary so I had to take it slow.
I want to mention how much in awe I am of this author, (Annie Wilcox), her mentor, (Bill Anthony) and anyone else who has ever worked or trained as a bookbinder.
Right from page 1, Annie jumps into the nitty gritty of how to bind a book. Interspersed with those details, is her story of the apprenticeship she did under William Anthony.
Bill Anthony was considered to be the foremost Bookbinder and Book Conservationist of the 20th century in America. Sadly he died in 1989, while Annie was still an Apprentice.
There is so much detail and jargon in this book, I found the first few pages a little overwhelming. But by page 45, I was getting used to it. But still, a Glossary or an Index would have been very useful.
Despite all my interest in Antiquarian Books, and what exactly constitutes a rare book, I was thinking, that I dont need to touch the original books to appreciate them. I just love looking at them. And in 2025 it is now far too late for me to even take up book binding as a hobby. My hands sadly have become too painful and arthritic for me to use any sewing type skills.
One thing that Annie Tremmel Wilcox wrote in her book was "Simply put, preservation is the attempt to save the intellectual content of books, while conservation is the attempt to save both the intellectual content and its vehicle, or the book itself."
For some reason, in my brain, my interest is more in the information, the words, and much less so in the vehicle, the books. I am much more into the Preservation than the Conservation. To me the intellectual content is far more important that the vehicle. As long as the intellectual content is a faithful copy (or facsimile) of the original, I am happy. Which is why in 2025, I am making it my lifes work to save as many PDF and Epub books as possible. The words are more important than the vehicle, IMO.
I have an 8 TB hard drive to save books on. At this point in time I have barely used up 2 TB. I have well over 4000 Epub books and PDF books saved already. This is also my way of saving books that may end up being banned in todays political climate.
I am also saving books in the subjects areas that I love reading about. Which are mostly History, Geography, Social Science, Genealogy, Biographies, Memoirs And Autobiographies. Some History of Science but not much in the way of Hard science. I am not a Maths Fan, but I like the History of Maths.
The one big thing I need to keep my books safe, is a steady supply of electricity. LOL
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
In memory of my Father who was an appreciated printer and bookbinder.
"A meticulously crafted description of a writing teacher’s apprenticeship in bookbinding and conservation with an internationally known master of the field. Wilcox tells her story by referring to the copious notes she compiled while serving as the first female apprentice to William Anthony, the founder of the Center for the Book at the University of Iowa. She found that writing down her experiences was the best way to “hold onto the terrors and successes of learning a handcraft,” and it’s her preservation of the freshness of her encounter with a new craft that makes this book compelling reading for those who may not share an interest in its rather narrowly focused subject matter. She draws readers into the world of book arts by immersing us totally in its richly descriptive technical jargon: Leather bindings have red rot (a condition that causes them to crumble at the slightest touch), pages are foxed (spotted with rust from bits of iron), books are rebound in alum-tawed pigskin. She describes restoration processes, such as chemical washing, mending torn pages, resizing, and sewing bindings, with such detail and precision that one is left with the impression that he or she is actually learning the craft rather than merely reading about another’s experience. Her relationship with Anthony (who died of cancer before the end of the five-year apprenticeship program) is an integral part of her story, and she chronicles his patient advice and support as he guides her through her first restoration, teaches her to sew her first Coptic stitch across a binding spine, helps her to manufacture her own tools, and advises her on professional matters, such as estimating private restoration jobs. The rarity of such intense personal mentoring relationships in today’s economic climate renders Wilcox’s experience both a nostalgic throwback to an earlier era and a potential model for recuperating current pedagogical practices. Book lovers will love this book." (Book—of-the-Month Club alternate selection) (KIRKUS REVIEW)
[Stefon voice] If you’re into books, conservation, and preservation, this is the book for you. It has everything; books, binding, anecdotes, and the rest. [/Stefon].
Bookish types who are looking into things like rare books conservation, you must check this out because though it’s a memoir, it’s also a very descriptive look at the processes involved in preserving rare items (who knew washing and de-acidifying paper could be so sexy, and don’t even get me started on tooling leather). I enjoyed this book most when it touched on the technical aspects of restoration. A great book for readers who like books about books.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book which I discovered (heard about) quite by accident about 10 days ago while watching a bookbinding video. I liked the style of the writing very much and enjoyed the interweaving of her apprenticeship and her relationship with Bill Anthony, who I was very happy to learn something about. I could relate to much of the process and technique discussion, having taken several bookbinding classes at North Bennett Street in Boston. An other reviewer bemoaned the lack of pictures, but for me the illustrations were sufficient.
Provides good beginner-level explanation of book conservation methods and theory (the advice on collecting and crafting tools is particularly good), combined with a poised narrative of the author's education/apprenticeship. While the writing is solid or even wry, the personal affect of this memoir doesn't quite get across. The detailed descriptions work, but the mixture of technical and non-technical vocabulary is confusing (sometimes "section", sometimes "signature").
An absolutely marvelous book that literally breathes life into the rather staid subject of book restoration and repair.
The author was one of the last apprentices of William Anthony, one of America's foremost book conservation and preservationists for special collections. Through her apprenticeship," journeyman"(sic) and to the level considered master, Wilcox teaches the reader how to reach their own " degree of mastery" that can transfer to any aspect of life. Highly recommended 5/5
A fascinating look at the world of book making and restoration from a woman who won the honor of being the first female apprentice to a master book binder and conservator. Loved going along on her journey of discovery and falling in love with this art.
After my fourth reading of this fine book, I have nothing substantial to add to the review below that I wrote after my initial reading. Reading about the careful, dedicated care of books calms my spirit, very welcome in 2020.
I delayed finishing this gem of a book by every means I could conceive – picking it up only once a week, limiting each reading sessions to a few pages, savoring the passages just read so as not to plunge into the next section – but I couldn't make it last forever. Wilcox writes well, mixing mundane details with measured accounts of epiphany and satisfaction, but her writing isn't the main attraction of the book. Her character sketches of her mentor and her fellow apprentices are astute and engaging, but they are not the reason I will reread this book in the future. Wilcox has her Ph.D. In English and her love of good writing and important books shows, but I am most drawn to her kindred, tactile and spiritual pleasure in handling a pleasingly-formatted, well-bound volume – her appreciation of the book as a work of art.
A richly detailed memoir of an apprenticeship in bookbinding and book preservation. The careful description of the craft is interwoven with the telling of a special relationship -- mentor to student. William Anthony, the mentor in this book, was an internationally known book preservationist. The University of Iowa created its Center for the Book so that Anthony and others could teach the skills of bookbinding to students like Annie Tremmel Wilcox. Two-thirds of the way through her apprenticeship, Anthony died unexpectedly. This is a moving and intense story of Anthony's life and death, as well as a tribute to his art.
I loved this book when it came out...so sexy, with its descriptions of book conservation!
Reading it again, I found myself distracted by the voice of the writer. (Maybe it's because I'm writing cover letters and resumes every day. Am I projecting? At any rate, the writer seems overly concerned with being correct and thought well of.)
This is a very good book. It is perhaps a bit technical at times, but still easy to follow. The technical bits simply require you to step out of the flow of the story and figure out what you can about what's going on. The last section of the book is presented in a subtly cinematic style that beautifully attunes the reader to the emotional wavelength of the experiences being related.
Her experience as a female apprentice in the male-dominated craft of book conservation, interspersed with incredibly detailed descriptions of specific treatments. I trained as a book conservator; reading this I could almost smell methylcellulose dissolving the glue on a 90-year-old text block. I suspect anyone other than a book nerd would find it uncomfortably dry.
A nice walk along with someone going through a book arts course. For those not yet 'in the know,' that includes book binding, book repair, and such like. Especially interesting to a rare books person, but also fascinating to anyone who works with his/her hands.
Although I'm willing to bet that folks unfamiliar with book arts might be confused or bored by this text, for those of us with a love for the craft, it is a masterful tale of one woman's experience in her apprenticeship--something that would-be conservators and bookbinders would do well to read.
The only thing that kept me reading this book is that I became truly interested in her descriptions of conserving rare books. Otherwise, her story was sappy and poorly written. It felt more like the biography of a young adult rather than a grown woman. Sweet but trite.
Read the entire thing on a four hour drive today. Interesting, educational. Had me rather wishing I'd chosen different majors in college; I'd really enjoy this profession. (I did some mild conservation as my student job while in university, and loved that, but was majoring in theology.)
This book made me want to do some tooling, which is an accomplishment, but it ended fairly abruptly after Bill Anthony's super sad funeral. I guess I will have to take to the internets to piece together an Animal House style epilogue for myself.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Awesome! Makes me really want to take bookbinding lessons and work in a special collections. Also a beautiful blending of art, craft, and library science.