Making the Pages Come Alive: Four Centuries of Natural History In Print
Walter Havighurst Special Collections (3rd floor, King Library)
January 14 – May 10, 2013
We’re happy to announce that our new spring semester exhibit is open to visitors! This was a very fun exhibit to curate and a great excuse to look at pretty pictures of birds, flowers and animals in our collections. So often our exhibits are focused on the arts and the humanities, we wanted to make sure we had an opportunity to highlight our science-related collections, as well. The images shown here are just a few of the beautiful natural science illustrations on exhibit.
The field of natural history, the observation-based study of plants and animals in their environment, has its origins in the ancient Greco-Roman world, most notably in the pages of Pliny the Elder’s Naturalis Historia completed between AD 77 and 79. However, humans have been recording their observations of nature in multiple ways since the first cave paintings portrayed animals and plants. During the middle ages artistic interpretations of the natural world could be found in sculpture, paintings, and folk crafts, while early scientific findings were recorded in the pages of illuminated manuscripts called herbals and bestiaries.
As with all scholarly information of the period, the advent of print in the 15th century provided natural history scholars, and their talented illustrators, a wider audience for their work and more accuracy in the dissemination of their findings.
The books showcased here demonstrate the various ways that natural history subjects have been depicted in print from the 16th through the 19th centuries. The oldest book in the exhibit is a 1534 edition of Pliny’s foundational work, while the most recent publication is Sherman Foote Denton’s Moths and Butterflies of the United States, published in 1900, which is noted for the author’s innovative method of illustration.
Whether it’s an early woodcut engraving of an exotic animal, a famous bird illustration by John James Audubon, or the colorful flowers of The Botanical Magazine, the illustrations on these pages truly make nature come alive.
Kimberly Tully
Special Collections Librarian










The most accurate observation about Russia that I came across recently was by Eliot Borenstein of New York University: “Russia after the dismantling of the Soviet Union has the dubious honor of being perhaps the only country in the world that is both pre- and post-apocalyptic at the same time. It’s not that the world doesn’t end, but it never stops ending.” Russians’ tendency to live every day like it is their last is probably developed by a constant string of near-apocalyptic events throughout Russian history. The event best represented in the Walter Havighurst Special Collections is the Great October Revolution, 1917-1921. There are materials in the collection reflecting both sides, for and against the revolution and smaller groups with more complex agendas, as well as general apocalyptic behavior, literature, and art of the Russians. I chose two book examples with interesting histories that represent two of the facets of that end of the world.
I have always been intrigued by the number of rare editions we have of “Twelve” by Aleksandr Blok. Some are cataloged and others are still waiting, editions in different languages and illustrated by different people. It is not surprising that the poem was published so many times. It was Blok’s most controversial work, a harsh, cold poem about twelve unsympathetic Bolsheviks marching through Petrograd, their only emotion being violent hatred of the old world and people who were comfortable in it. In the context of the text this quality is a positive one.

“Tam!..” (roughly translated as There! Pictures of the Soviet Heaven) is a very rare, émigré edition of a book of anti-Soviet satire from the early 1920s, vividly illustrated by an anonymous artist. The authors, Lolo (L. Munstein) and Leri (V. Klopotovsky), are relatively well-known satirical poets of the post-revolution Russian diaspora. Their subject is less about the cruelty of the Soviet regime and more about the decadent nature of the “apocalyptic” Russia. The bright, simplistic illustrations go perfectly with the angry wit of the text, mocking the lower class now ruling the country.






