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Shelf Secrets

Tracing Histories of Humboldt University Library Books

01
Histoire du siècle 1789-1889 (1889)

Conclusion

Histoire du siècle and her companions from the library of Princess Radziwill present many still-unanswered questions. What we know for certain is that this little book holds many more secrets than anyone wandering through the library halls could suspect at first glance. It was once a practical guide to a busy, bustling exhibition more than 130 years ago. Then it became a souvenir, an object that held the precious memories of Princess Radziwill. It may have joined the collection of Dr. Alois Maria Lautenschläger before entering the possession of Tilmann Buddensieg, after which it came into the collection of the Humboldt University library, where it was placed on a shelf among books written about the same period and events that this book once witnessed firsthand.

02
Comte und die Göttin Clotilde (1921)

Introduction

While I was looking for a different book, I found Comte und die Göttin Clotilde by accident. What first caught my eye was a group of small books crowded together on an open library shelf, which I would later discover belonged to a series known as the Orplidbücher. Of those nearly fifty books, I was drawn to this one because of its title: Auguste Comte is an important name in the history of sociology, and I hoped to find content related to that subject. The book instead contained essays including a book review of a humorous novel about Comte—but at this point I was already interested in the many other questions that this book posed.

I wanted to know about the author behind the book, Max Hochdorf, whose work was banned in Nazi Germany and seems mostly forgotten today. What was his connection to Berlin and its intellectual circles in the late 1910s and early 1920s? What made him publish with Axel Juncker, particularly since Hochdorf was one of the only authors who published in the series multiple times?

I also wondered about the Orplidbücher. What was the history of this series and how did it relate to the publishing culture of the time? Why was it discontinued, while other series such as the "Insel Library" became very popular? What was behind the small, handy format in combination with the books' rather elaborate design? Were they made with a specific audience in mind? What also struck me was the bad shape that many of the other Orplidbücher were in, raising questions about the history of this particular collection at HU.

Humboldt's copy of Comte und die Göttin Clotilde is a first edition that the university library purchased shortly after the book was published. According to WorldCat, other copies can be found in Berlin (Staatsbibliothek), Leipzig (Deutsche Nationalbibliothek), Erlangen (Universitätsbibliothek), Munich (Bayerische Staatsbibliothek) and, interestingly, Brighton (Sussex University Library). During the project, old library catalogues and accession journals answered some of my questions, while labels in the book itself posed new questions about the history of the Humboldt University library's collection.

Conclusion

Looking at it over and over, Comte und die Göttin Clotilde becomes a familiar object: its distinct pocket-size format, the playful title font, its fragile spine. Like a small portal, it leads us to the trails that its author Max Hochdorf and his publisher Axel Juncker have left in the literary history of Berlin in the early twentieth century. It also reveals a glimpse of historical book culture, as books of the Orplidücher series were popular among gift-givers and collectors—with some of the books being banned in Nazi Germany decades later. Finally, this copy leads to questions about the history of the Humboldt University library that are still unanswered. Even though it can give us hints through stamps and labels, Comte und die Göttin Clotilde keeps a secret: exactly how it has traveled though library collections over time is not yet fully traceable.

03
Plakat Handbuch (1928)

Conclusion

Plakat Handbuch (1928) continually raises new questions and will likely continue to do so in the future. Nevertheless, it shows how the passage of time has influenced the advertising industry and how interconnected the advertising world in 1920s Berlin was—a world in which Albachary GmbH played an important role.

Although it belonged to reference libraries, this book is not just a textbook; it brings the art of poster advertising closer to the reader and highlights its significance. Thus, it remains relevant, as it focuses on key elements of design that are still significant today.

04
Of Human Bondage (1938)

Conclusion

The unknown aspects of this book's history invite speculation: What became of Mollie and her mother? Did any reader in Bonn develop an appreciation for Maugham's prose and the English language? Where is the book's dust jacket now—lost, discarded, or preserved elsewhere? How many hands have held this particular copy, and what impact, if any, did it leave on their lives?

This specific volume, the focal point of my research, is more than just another copy of a canonical text. It serves as a historical artifact that embodies layers of human interaction, institutional history, and evolving functions. No two books are identical in their material and experiential histories. Small modifications—dedications, annotations, stamps—render each copy unique, containing hidden narratives that can only be uncovered through careful examination. The traces left by past readers serve as quiet reminders that literature is not merely a static entity but a living, evolving medium that continues to shape and be shaped by its audience.

05
Taʾrīḫ al-ḫaṭţ al-ʿarabī wa-ādābuhu (1939)

Introduction

Titled Taʾrīḫ al-ḫaṭṭ al-ʿarabī wa-ādābuhu ("The History of Arabic Calligraphy and its Arts"), this book by Muḥammad Ṭāhir b. ʿAbdalqādir al-Kurdī is a rich, multifaceted exploration of Arabic calligraphy. First published in Cairo in 1939 (1358 AH), it combines historical, literary, and social perspectives with meticulously presented visual elements, including calligraphic samples and early photographic illustrations. I came across this work in the Asian-/African Studies and Islamic Theology Branch Library of the Humboldt University Library, shelved among historical studies of Arabic script. Amid this section, its slightly worn softcover binding, right-to-left pagination, and the elegant classical Arabic on its title page stood out.

My choice of this book was driven by a long-standing interest in Arabic calligraphy not only as a form of aesthetic expression but also as a cultural artifact deeply woven into Islamic history, spirituality, and identity. I was curious to learn more about how this art form evolved, what tools and techniques were used, who the master calligraphers were, and how the transmission of this tradition took place across different geographies and centuries. In this book, I hoped to find more than just historical facts—I was looking for stories, textures, and traces of artistic devotion. What I didn't expect, however, was to discover a book that felt like a museum in print, rich with images and layered with cultural significance, all compiled by one man over three years of solitary, painstaking research.

The author, al-Kurdī (1903-80), was a Mecca-born calligrapher, scholar, and poet of Kurdish heritage. He carried the prestigious title tib al-Muṣḥaf al-Makkī, or the "Scribe of the Meccan Qur'an," and his mastery of the calligraphic arts is evident not just in his theoretical understanding, but in his deep reverence for the tradition.1 The book spans 470 pages and is filled with biographies of calligraphers, analyses of writing tools and materials, and images of ancient inscriptions—some of them barely decipherable, others beautifully preserved. It's as much a scholarly work as it is a visual archive.

One of the first surprises I encountered was the scope of the author's research. Al-Kurdī gathered material from museums and libraries in Cairo and Alexandria during his years in Egypt, consulting both Arab and Turkish sources. His engagement with Ottoman-era calligraphy—through Turkish teachers and sources—adds a rare comparative layer, bridging regions and styles. Another unexpected dimension was the inclusion of portraits, including one of King Abdulaziz ibn Saud and another of the author himself at the historic al-Falah School in Jeddah. These paratextual elements provide personal and political context, situating the work within early Saudi statehood and the wider cultural movements in the Arab world of the 1930s.

The book also surprised me in material terms. It is modestly bound, with soft covers and even a few pages that remain uncut—a rare find in a library setting, hinting that the book may have seen limited use or circulation. Inside, I found an old Alexandria National Museum ticket used as a bookmark and a library receipt from Humboldt University—traces of readers who left few marks, but whose engagement still lingers. Library stamps from the book's previous home at the Deutsches Orient-Institut Hamburg, meanwhile, indicate that this book has crossed institutional, geographical, and perhaps ideological boundaries.

Finding this book in the Humboldt library seemed entirely fitting, though its age and rarity also gave it the aura of something more precious, even slightly out of place among more recent academic texts. It stands apart from its neighbors not just because of its publication date or Arabic-only text, but because of its hybrid nature—scholarly yet visual, archival yet alive with the author's voice. The right-to-left orientation, the hand-drawn elements, and the absence of a bibliography and citations in the European academic style all contribute to its uniqueness in a German university library.

Ultimately, this book is more than a history of Arabic calligraphy. It offers a reflection on cultural continuity, the persistence of beauty, and the ways in which writing can be both a personal devotion and a collective memory. In the sections that follow, I'll explore some of the book's key themes: the evolution of Arabic script, the tools and materials of the scribe, the role of calligraphy in Islamic society, and the stories of the individuals who carried this art across centuries and continents. I will also trace the material journey of this particular copy—from Cairo to Hamburg to Berlin—alongside the intellectual and spiritual journey that the book invites its readers to take.

  1. Şahin Şimşek, "Muhammed Tahir El-Kurdî el-Mekkî el-Hattat: Hayatı ve Eserleri," JOSR 8, no. 2 (2016): 861.

Conclusion

This book—at once an artistic object and a scholarly work—demonstrates how material culture can serve as a portal into complex historical, cultural, and intellectual networks. Taʾrīḫ al-ḫaṭṭ al-ʿarabī wa-ādābuhu invites us to explore questions of authorship, readership, and the transmission of knowledge across time and space. Its pages do not just preserve the past; they actively prompt us to reconstruct it.

06
Hitler Sobre America Latina (1968)

Conclusion

Unanswered questions remain regarding this book. What were the exact motivations behind its publication in 1968? How did it circulate, and who were its primary readers? Additionally, the role of Fondo de Cultura Popular remains uncertain. Was it a short-lived or underground publishing house? How did it come to be associated with this book?

This book also opens several avenues for further research. Investigating the broader circulation of Hitler Sobre America Latina—who read it, how it was received, and whether it influenced scholarly discussions—could provide valuable insights into its historical impact. Additionally, exploring the background of Fondo de Cultura Popular and its role in leftist publishing could shed light on why this book was published in Mexico and how it fits into Cold War-era intellectual networks. Finally, comparing this book with other works on Nazi influence in Latin America could help contextualize its contributions and limitations within the field of historical research.

07
Alice's Adventures Under Ground (1985)

Conclusion

While this specific copy of Alice's Adventures Under Ground does not tell us too much about its former users and shelf life, it does help in learning about the general audience and purpose of this edition. It is interesting to see how material details, content, and the history of the text itself together suggest the book's different possible functions—and how something as little as a library receipt can contribute to hypotheses concering this book's use and audience.

Exhibit Conclusion

As the stories of these seven books show, there is more to a book than what appears at first glance.

Books housed in a university library's open stacks are not just secondary sources. They are also primary sources in their own right.

The individual books featured above demonstrate how a single copy of a book can raise questions that connect the history of books and reading to diverse academic research fields. Tracing the biographies of these books also showcases the many different methods that book historians use to pursue their work, from investigating how a book's material design reflects its intended audience to examining how a book's provenance indexes relationships between people and institutions. 

At the same time, questions remain. Who were the historic librarians responsible for purchasing and otherwise acquiring these particular books? How exactly has the categorization and storage of  these books in the Humboldt library changed over time? And how do these copies compare to copies housed at other libraries? Many of the books in this exhibit also raise questions about the role that library books have played in Humboldt University's complex social and political history. Why did the library purchase a Humboldt professor's book as a cheap second-hand copy? And how did a book by an author critical of the Nazi party survive World War Two in such good condition?  

In profiling these seven library books, this exhibit has sought both to share stories and to invite continuing conversation. What other hidden histories might be found in the Humboldt library or in another seemingly ordinary library collection? We encourage you to explore the shelves and to begin your own investigation.