Many readers suffer a tormented relationship with book jackets or, as most people call them, dust jackets. I certainly do. In my youth, I admired the private libraries of writers and professors who discarded these garish and easily torn outer coverings from their books, leaving only the subdued cloth bindings. As a result, serried rows of soft blue and faded burgundy lined their substantial mahogany shelves. To my youthful eyes, such personal libraries looked grown-up, serious; the books were clearly tools rather than icons or decorative objects for furnishing a living room. Nonetheless, en masse they still conveyed a welcoming, clubbable warmth suggestive of leather chairs and brandy.
Michael Dirda of the Washington Post reviews G. Thomas Tanselle’s Book-jackets: Their History, Forms, and Use.
