JF Ptak Science Books LLC  Post 412

“Tel fruit porte l’arbe de la guerre.”  Charles the Bold, (“Such are the fruits of war”, observing the town of Montdidier set ablaze by the Burgundians in 1472.

This photograph, taken near the French town of Montdider in October 1918, reminded me straight away of a photo that my friend Andy Moursund had hanging for many years in his store, the Georgetown Bookshop (for many years one of the most literate, most-intelligently-stocked used/rare bookshops in the DC and Maryland region). Andy’s photo was of the interior of a British library, its roof lost to a Nazi V-2, with stacks of books in a smokey rubble, and with several men standing and reading atop the charred ruins.  His caption for it was “Our Kind of Reader”.  A voracious and terrific reader with tremendous insight, Andy (a Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee vet (SNCC, perhaps the leading student civil rights organizations in the 1960’s)) really, truly meant and felt the sentiment.  (Or means its and feels it, I should say.)  and here I am surprised to see something similar–let

me just say that images such as these were not very commonly made or published. Different war, same sentiment. 

This time though the location of the books is outdoors and in France.  the books were looted by the “Huns” as the caption says, and taken from the library at Montdidier.  This is one of the many towns that suffered greatly during the First World War, and especially so during the first Battle of the Somme in 1916, and then again in the battle of Noyan-Mntdidier, in 1918.

Montdidier is very old and has been deeply scarred by wars over the last 1200 years.  The town’s name comes from the Didier, who as King of the Franks was imprisoned in this community in 774, soon to celebrate the 1,235th anniversary of the event. And on and on.

I’d be curious to know what was in those piles under the heavy sacking, and how many of those piles there were–we can see the beginning of another just to the left.  I don’t see any thin volumes of whispy poetry or skinny wanting limpnovels. Most of them look pretty stout, three of them together seemingly as big as the soldier’s head.  I am relieved to see that the books were raised off the ground on their pallets–there was a war going on and all of that, but someone took the time and effort to get the books up and off of the ground.  That’s my kind of reader.

I should point out that this was a News Service Photograph, this one supplied by Underwood & Underwood.  The photo would be sent to newspapers/magazines that requested, say, a photo of a soldier reading; U&U would send it on along for publication, along with mandatory caption.