Review
Darnton's The Business of Enlightenment (1979) afforded a remarkable glimpse into an episode of publishing history that brought Diderot's Encyclopedie to a very large reading public in a comparatively cheap edition put out by an improvised French-Swiss publishing consortium. The primary fund of material mined in that work - the luckily preserved records of the Swiss partner, the Societe typographique de Neuchatel (STN) - is also widely drawn on in most of the six articles collected here. Though a lay reader may need the help of a good general history of prerevolutionary France to piece together some parts of the picture, the general outlines are more than accessible. Darnton repeatedly argues that the structure of restrictions on publishing under the old regime inevitably created a thriving demi-monde profiting from the idiocy of the law - as well as an inkslingers' underworld schooled in the lessons of not only political but literary injustice. Among the human marginalia he turns up are a bogus bookdealer who (on the strength of a few knowledgeable-sounding letters) persuaded the STN to advance him some 2,400 livres' worth of books; a scrivener who bombarded the STN with proposal after proposal for grandiose histories, critical analyses, and anti-clerical compendiums of Cistercian breviaries (depending on the market); and - more unexpectedly - Brissot de Warville, the ill-fated Girondist leader, who in 1784 was nothing but a failed philosophe and pamphleteer, obliged to buy his way out of the Bastille by agreeing to turn police informer. Other articles comment on: the contrast between the sanctioned canonization of the more august prophets of reason (Voltaire, d'Alembert) and the walls of repression and exclusion penning most would-be-philosophes into the confines of Grub Street; the day-to-day records suggesting "that preindustrial work tended to be irregular and unstable, craft-specific and task-oriented, collective in its organization and individual in its pace"; and the certainty that - no matter what the 18th-century French public read - the regime's very perception of books was deformed by a screening system that merrily classified pornography, political commentary, and works of atheism as livres philosophiques: i.e., forbidden books. Though the present, composite work is inherently specialized, Darnton's lucid efforts to present books as evidence of labor history, economic structures, and political institutions may justly be called pioneering. (Kirkus Reviews)
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Review
This is splendid historical writing...Darnton [has] a well-justified reputation as one of the most original contributors to our understanding of life in pre-revolutionary Paris...What Darnton says about the writers is necessary to understanding the revolutionaries. The French Revolution was a continuous conflict between people, as well as a battle of ideas, and anyone who wants to understand the people had better start with the work of Robert Darnton.
--Norman Hampson (
New York Review of Books )
[Darnton's] book gives us not only a history of 18th-century publishing but a notion of how the lower orders of literature contributed to the fall of the Old Regime...The reader who wants a glimpse of the world behind a very unusual literature and an enlightening look at a famous time in history will get an eyeful in this surprising and entertaining volume.
--Margaret Peters (
New York Times Book Review )
Rarely has assiduous, original research (aided and abetted by Darnton's energetic prose) made for such fascinating reading.
--Mark Feeney (
Boston Globe )
Detail is indeed Robert Darnton's strong suit. He likes to conjure up voices which had been silent for two centuries, to resurrect what he calls (modifying Peter Laslett's famous phrase) 'a world that we had lost.' And how? Not by 'contemplating philosophical treatises,' but by 'grubbing in archives,' in particular, the rich store of papers from a Swiss publishing house, the Société Typographique de Neuchâtel...Darnton resuscitates a vanished world, and in doing so, like the best historians...produces a literary text of our own time.
--Peter France (
London Review of Books )
See all Editorial Reviews