Alan Loney, Ted Jenner, and The Love Songs of Ibykos 1

Turnbull Library Record, Volume 34, 1 January 2001, Page 99

Peter H. Hughes

Alan Loney, Ted Jenner, and The Love Songs of Ibykos 1

In his 1985 Panizzi lecture D. F. McKenzie reviewed the work of bibliographers and concluded that their vital interests were both ‘the historical study of the making and the use of books’ and ‘the social and technical circumstances of text production’. 2 For him, bibliography represented what he called ‘the sociology of texts’, one that ‘directs us to consider the human motives and interactions which texts involve at every stage of their production, transmission and consumption’. To test McKenzie’s idea, this article examines the production of one book by Alan Loney, The love songs of Ibykos (1997), 22 fragments by the Greek poet translated by Ted Jenner (see Figure 1).

Alan Loney was the most prolific private press printer of his generation in New Zealand. Between 1975 and 1998, under the imprints of Hawk Press, Black Light Press and Holloway Press, Loney produced 44 books, as well as pamphlets, ephemeral pieces and book designs for other publishers. Ibykos is unique in this corpus in that its production spans the history of all three presses. Equally, it mirrors the vicissitudes of Loney’s private press career and is an exemplar for those processes that McKenzie believed are central to bibliography.

In 1975 Loney set up Hawk Press using an Arab treadle platen at Taylor’s Mistake, near Christchurch. In two years he produced eight works, then moved to the North Island where he produced a further nineteen books under the Hawk imprint: three at Paraparaumu, three at Days Bay and thirteen at Eastbourne. The books he produced at the first

two locations followed the pattern he had established at Christchurch. Loney later called these ‘small books of poetry’ that were, characteristically, seven to ten leaves, folded and sewn as a single signature inside light card with a wrap-around cover. Many were illustrated, usually with line blocks; many of the covers show typographical flourishes and most were set in various sizes of Loney’s three favoured typefaces: Gill, Perpetua and Centaur. He usually printed 300 copies of each edition, the notable exception being Robert Creeley’s Hello (1976) that he printed in greater numbers for the American market.

But at Eastbourne the pattern changed. In May 1979 his production of The death of Captain Cook for the Alexander Turnbull Library signalled a new direction. This he printed on an Albion hand press on handmade Wookey Hole paper in a limited edition of 50 copies. The Monotype Poliphilus type, machine-set by Whitcoulls in Christchurch, was then ‘put through the [composing] stick’ by Loney. Shortly after this, in an issue of the Turnbull Library Record, he summarised the attractions that the hand press held for him: first, the use of handmade papers, damped for printing; second, type set by hand, or, if machine-set, then re-justified by hand; third, hand inking of the type; fourth, a context or evaluation ‘within the current milieu of handprinting craftsmanship, and that within the general history of fine printing by hand’; fifth, the necessity of limited editions; and sixth, clarity about what defined hand press printing as a process. To him, hand press printing was characterised by ‘the impression [that] is activated by hand’. 3 While he continued to produce books in the earlier style on the Arab at Eastbourne, each of the last three works printed under the Hawk imprint was printed on hand presses: two on the Albion —Edgar Mansfield’s 11.2.80: On Creation (1981) and J. C. Beaglehole’s The New Zealand scholar (1982) —and his own poem sequence Squeezing the bones (1983), printed on a Vandercook flatbed cylinder. But in mid-1983 he closed down Hawk Press for financial reasons.

Four years later Loney took up printing again and established Black Light Press in the basement of his Wellington house. Black Light Press had ‘very specific aims: to make original books by hand, in which utility (a book to be read) and beauty (a pleasure expansive of content) are both present and [also]... to make limited editions of 50 to 70 copies using the finest available materials, types and hand- and mouldmade papers ’. 4 Loney wished to continue what he had begun ten years earlier and this found expression in his first book Swell (1987), a poem sequence of his own ‘sparse notes... put into effect by the printing process itself. 5 In the five years of Black Light Press to February 1992, Loney produced seven books. Three were of his own work including Gallipoli (1992; an edition of six copies) that he printed on the Vandercook on handmade paper recycled from unsold copies of Beaglehole’s New Zealand scholar. Two were volumes of poetry, notably John Male’s Poems from a war (1989), with line drawings by Russell Clark, one was the catalogue of the Book Arts Society exhibition Art of the book (1990) and the last was Tony Simpson’s essay A

cargo of flax (1991), printed on the Albion using Ulrich Schmid’s handmade flax paper. But, as with the last days of Hawk Press, ‘the “fever and the fret” of the money aspect of publishing’ weighed him down, and again he ceased printing. 6 In 1992 Loney moved further north, to take up the position of Literary Fellow in the English Department at Auckland University. After his tenure finished, he championed the idea that the university take over Ron Holloway’s Griffin Press as a working press within the department. Holloway, the grand old man of Auckland private press printing, had already gifted some of his printing collection to the university and he was anxious that his plant and archive also find a good home. Loney, now a tutor, sought allies for his idea at the same time that Associate Professor Peter Simpson was establishing the department’s presence at the new Tamaki campus. Simpson believed the press would give the department an identity and was critical in getting a room for it in the library building there. By May 1994 Loney had installed some of Holloway’s plant and also a newly bought Littlejohn cylinder press and began printing Allen Cumow’s Looking west, late afternoon, low water. This was completed in October and its launch also marked the opening of the press itself.

Loney ran the Holloway Press for five years until 1998. It was quite different from either Hawk or Black Light in that it was affiliated to a university department, with all the accountabilities and politics that flowed from such a situation. Loney wanted the press to be like those of Walter Hamady’s Perishable Press or Kim Merker’s Windhover Press’; 7 that is, a university teaching hand press-cum-publisher of limited editions, in which, in Hamady’s words, ‘the Press make[s] a contribution in the content of the work it produces’. s Loney and Simpson (see Figure 2) formed a two-man ‘Press Committee’ to manage the printing programme and to keep the university authorities informed. But the role of the two men and the position of the press was never formalised so that when Loney announced that he was quitting late in 1998, the doors to the press room were closed and even today its future is uncertain. Loney produced ten books at the Holloway Press, including Robin Hyde’s The victory hymn (1995), Leo Bensemann’s Fantastica (1997; printed from the original line blocks) and Robert Creeley’s The dogs of Auckland (1998), his last production. But the critical focus of this article is his penultimate work at the press —Ted Jenner’s translation of Ibykos, published after an involvement of eighteen years.

Loney’s first attempt to publish Ibykos went back to 1980 when he printed Ted Jenner’s own volume of poetry ,4 memorial brass at Hawk Press. Not too long after that, the poet and printer began planning an edition of all of the known fragments of Ibykos both in the Greek and in English translation. Loney was already well disposed to undertake printing with a Greek theme; as a poet himself he had been interested in the early Greek lyrists, especially Sappho and Archilochos. 9 By March 1982 Loney was writing to booksellers that he planned an edition of Ibykos: ‘Books to come [include] the complete poems of the Greek poet Ibykos—never before collected and translated into English. With full critical apparatus (in the 2nd of 2 volumes); &4or 5 original prints by Kate Coolahan’. 10 At this time his idea was to produce an edition in keeping with his emerging philosophy of printing: one that would use a hand press, be hand-set, hand-inked, printed on handmade papers and issued in a limited edition of 50 copies.

Early in 1983 Loney began his search for Greek type. He wrote to Stephenson Blake in England and to five American type founders seeking type in 16-point or 24point, which would ‘marry’ with the Centaur roman that he already owned. But this first foray was short-lived, as in the middle of that year Loney closed down Hawk Press and any ideas about publishing Ibykos were shelved. Ted Jenner, however, maintained his own interest. He was encouraged by Edgar Lobel’s publication and translation of 46 verse fragments as part of the Oxyrhynchus Papyri project that in 1984 were ascribed to Ibykos by M. L. West, the English papyrologist." In 1985 Jenner published thirteen of his translations in a collection of nineteen fragments by Ibykos in a Festschrift for Agathe Thornton, the University of Otago classicist. 1 2 And about the same time he began recasting his earlier project ‘as a long, extended argumentative essay for which the Greek texts and translations would function

merely as evidence.’ 13 By 1988 he had completed the manuscript, called ‘The fragments of Ibykos: a literary study’, and had submitted it for publication in England. It comprised, he said, ‘l5O-odd pages . . . [that] constitute an elaborate sandcastle founded upon thin air—inference based on conjecture piled upon supposition derived from educated guesswork’. 14

By this time Loney had begun to print again at his Black Light Press in Wellington and got in touch with Jenner who was in Auckland: ‘This is my new letterhead, for a new press, and opening up new possibilities for printing.... Your father tells me you are working hard on some book or other, to do some old Greek stuff into English. ... If you have found a publisher for Ibykos then that is splendid. But if not, I would like to print a book.’ I? Loney wrote of Jenner as ‘one of the most distinctive of our poets [with] a superb quality of the imagination [who sees]... genuine contemporary life and feeling through the ... earliest poets and lyrists of Italy and Greece’. 16 As in 1982, Loney proposed a limited edition that he would print and publish, but ‘not quite as... envisaged before (the scale was a bit ambitious)’. 17 Jenner was encouraged and suggested a clear direction: ‘if the Ibykos is rejected in London then I will certainly head in your direction... I don’t see why a limited edition of the love-song fragments shouldn’t be published’. 1 * So the project became more focused and for the following three years, from August 1988 to September 1991, it was defined, refined, cast and recast. There were periods of intense activity, periods of relative quiet and, for Jenner in particular, periods of real uncertainty.

The manuscript Jenner provided comprised 30 A 4 typescript sheets. Of these the Greek and English texts were each seven pages; thirteen were Jenner’s scholarly additions and the remaining three were the title page, half-title and dedication. Loney concentrated on elements of design for production, determining the layout, typefaces, format and papers. In so doing, he developed and maintained an extensive network of colleagues that became critical to the success of the project. With regard to layout, for example, Loney built on his own experience—by then he had designed 25 books at his own press and another dozen for other publishers —by bouncing ideas off others. For some time he had designed using a template that showed the influence of Clifford Burke, the American printer and book designer and Burke’s book Printing poetry was an important source of ideas for him. 19 For example, Burke wrote that ‘the book is built outward from the text page, or, more precisely, from the two-page spread’, with consistency of ‘the assembled page’ being the designer’s aim. Extant sketches for Ibykos show that this is the way Loney worked. From an early stage Loney’s designs show two fragments of the Greek text and Jenner’s commentaries placed on the verso with the English text on the facing recto. The body of the book was planned to comprise eleven ‘units’ of these and also the illustrations Jenner favoured, as well as his scholarly additions.

When he considered the type, Loney had to marry two elements: his own aesthetic wishes and Jenner’s textual requirements. Each had to be tempered by what Loney was able to obtain, particularly with regard to the Greek text. For the text font, he wanted foundry type (i.e. type cast for hand setting), one that would look like a robust sans serif to more accurately reflect the Greek script found on papyri and one that also had a lower case with accents. Jenner insisted on this for the sake of intelligibility. 0 Initially, Loney hoped to use Jan van Krimpen’s Antigone Greek type from Enschede, but he found that it was no longer available for casting. So he began searching worldwide for a suitable font. He wrote to Stempel in Frankfurt for Herman Zapf s Heraklit font, but this too was no longer available; to Lettem-Service in Munich who provided a sample of an uninspired 10-point; to Harold Berliner and Glen Todd of M & H, both type founders in California. M & H Foundry could supply Monotype Porson but had accented characters for the 10-point only. 21 He wrote to John Randle of the Whittington Press in Gloucestershire asking whether he had Monotype New Hellenic (as Rod Cave believed) and, if so, whether Randle would compose the words required in Greek. Randle had the font but was unable to assist. 2 " In February 1990 Loney reported back to Jenner who replied: ‘Hope you are making some progress in securing Greek type. I must confess I find the whole business quite depressing’. 23

Then, after reading Scholderer’s book on Greek type and finding ‘the lovely Otter type of Robert Proctor’, Loney began chasing this. 24 He wrote to Sebastian Carter of the Rampant Lions Press in Cambridge asking him to approach Oxford University Press about the availability of the matrices for casting the type. Carter indirectly

provided the breakthrough. He suggested Loney write to a Dr J. F. Coakley in Lancaster who had Proctor’s type but, as it turned out, was unable to supply the type. However, Coakley referred Loney to Mould Type foundry in Preston and Loney wrote to them. They could supply Greek type —in 12-point with accents and in Scholderer’s own New Hellenic no less. So, in December 1990, fifteen months after beginning his search, Loney placed his order for Greek type: one font of Monotype New Hellenic Series 192 that, with square brackets and daggers, cost him £203 (about NZS6OO).

At the beginning of 1991 Loney reviewed his situation: ‘what I have done is to redesign the project to fit the types available, rather than, as I was doing previously, starting out with an idea of how it might look, and then scouring the globe for types to fit that prior notion. The new design has as much to do with the fact that Mould Type cannot supply 18pt New Hellenic as with any other factor.’ 2 " Loney still had to match this font with that of the English text. He only had enough of his favoured KisJanson 12 Didot in roman and italic to set half the book at one time. But the decisionmaking excited him nonetheless: ‘What [this] requires is a more creative decision as to how the Greek [and] English poem texts will relate to each other. Splendid — another way to skip the conventions.’ 26 He considered Centaur anew. But while the New Hellenic in 12-point would ‘sit okay’ in the preliminary pages with the 14-point Centaur that he already had, he felt the English translations should be set in the larger 18- or 24-point. So he wrote again to M& H for the cost of composition and setting the English text in Centaur with Arrighi italic. When the quote came it was USSBOO (about NZSI4OO) and forced Loney to think again. Happily, he had no similar problems with his display face as two options were available. He owned a font of van Krimpen’s Dubbele Augustijn Open Kapitalen that included Greek characters and also two fonts of 36-point Greek capitals, Alternate Gothic no. 1, a bold sans serif that he had bought in 1989 from M & H in San Francisco.

In determining the format of the book, Loney’s decisions were informed by what was feasible or preferable to those with whom he worked. Ideally, he wanted Ibykos to be in the ‘portrait shape (taller than wide) ’ and the page size to be in the proportions of the golden section: ‘this particularly Greek ratio ... makes for a tall and narrow page’. 27 He discussed this with Kate Coolahan who had agreed to make the paper and therefore needed to be able to make large sheet sizes—the agreed page dimensions were 290 x 180 mm. But this format caused problems; some of the English translations involved long line-lengths and Jenner was unhappy about any suggestion of reducing them for they represented ‘the pace of the metre’. 28 Loney quite happily backed off about this, but this element of the design was not resolved, at least temporarily.

With the edition size and paper too, he often made changes, juggling and refining his options. Late in 1990, for example, he considered three editions for Ibykos\ five on Coolahan handmade paper, 30 on Barcham Green handmade India Office paper and 65 on Mohawk letterpress. 29 But in January 1991 he changed his mind. Now there

would be two editions, one of 26 copies on Coolahan handmade paper with her prints and ‘SO (or thereabouts)’ on Mohawk. 30 For these plans, much depended on Coolahan’s availability to produce the required number of sheets of hand-made paper. By April this was less certain. Loney reported that she was ‘incredibly busy, teaching and preparing for exhibitions of her own work’. 31

Loney also considered using additional ink colours in printing the English and Greek texts and whether to include Jenner’s additional critical commentaries alongside the fragments and translations (he decided not to). In this he was informed by the San Francisco designer and printer Jack Stauffacher who had written a booklet in 1978 about the design decisions behind his edition of Plato ’ s Phaedrus. Stauffacher sent Loney a copy of the booklet —Phaidros: A search for the typographic form of Plato’s Phaedrus ’ —which Loney found ‘an instructive delight... For the design of the facing pages of Greek and English [in Ibykos] ... lam very much in your debt — I continue to find the discussion between yourself and Charles Bigelow [in the booklet] ... of great value and interest.’ 32

By April 1991 he reported to Jenner that he was ready. He had his type; ‘everything [is] squared away as far as the text goes. Kate [Coolahan] is now working on the prints... [and] Tony Clarke has provided a lovely binding structure... Starting date for production is Ist June . . . proofs will turn up at your house with great regularity. 33

But again, disaster struck. Coolahan’s involvement, either for handmade paper or for prints for the edition, ended: ‘she is unable realistically to undertake the prints in the forseeable future’. Even worse, in July Loney announced he was closing down Black Light Press itself. 34

Loney still wanted to produce Ibykos , but in a reduced form. He offered to print Jenner’s full text and the Greek fragments with translations on letterpress paper, with one illustration and in a smaller edition of 26 copies. He would have John Denny set the text in Linotype at his Puriri Press in Auckland. Such compromises, he wrote to Jenner, ‘are to do with what’s possible with metal types and what’s not’, and he continued, ‘I want to give you something back for the appalling way you have been entrapped with the work, around my openings and closings of the Press’. 35 But two months later Loney was forced to cut back on this offer even further. In September, Jenner replied and released him from the responsibility of producing this ‘severely truncated ... god-forsaken book’. 36

Once in Auckland, however, Loney was to set up the Holloway Press and in 1994 began printing again. Ibykos was part of his programme. It is clear that Loney felt he had to make good his commitment to Jenner. In fact, Loney’s personal investment in the project is an indication of how he saw his role in carrying out his craft. If there was a manuscript he wanted to print that meant he would also have to publish it, then he usually went ahead. His actions —and reactions —are those of a publisher as much as a printer, even though he consistently wanted to quit publishing. Authors

sometimes waited years and at least one offered cash advances to assist. But Loney ’ s motivation was essentially different to that in the commercial publishing world. In 1992 he spoke of his love of printing as ‘ a kind of dance around the press’ and stressed ‘the knowledge that one is working with a text that one thinks is worth the effort’ as well as the need to control the design process. 37

When he was ready to tackle lbykos at the Holloway Press he had resolved most of the design and production issues, and other difficulties that bedevilled his two earlier attempts were behind him. He had the necessary plant and type, he had a steady cashflow, and he was relatively secure with the institutional backing the university provided. This time the production of lbykos ran smoothly throughout the latter half of 1997. While he handset the Greek, John Denny set Jenner’s English translations and texts in Linotype 9 on 10-point Paragon. Between August and November he refined the layout. With the Greek and English texts assembled, he finalised page layouts by arranging the type on the bed of the press. He printed proofs and Ted Jenner came to the press and made corrections. The format he decided on was a real departure from his earlier preference for the golden section. The book was now virtually square (210x190 mm.), made possible by the size of the T. H. Saunders

mould-made paper that could be cut without wastage. This allowed him freedom to incorporate the illustrations and experiment with the greatly varied length and shape of the poems. With fragments 14 and 15, for example, he placed the translations alongside the Greek, whereas with others, such as fragments 16, 17 and 18, the translations follow the Greek (see Figure 3). He altered the placement of the fragment numbers so that they provided visual symmetry to the page. He carefully designed the title page, ‘one of the most important decision-making locations’ in a work, whose design he felt ‘emerges out of the engagement with the rest of the book: ... the types, paper and ink’. 3s Loney designed the title page around West’s line drawing of fragments 29 and 31. This was as important to him ‘as the words of the title themselves’, and also important to Jenner, who was insistent that the drawing appear, somehow, on the title page. For the typeface he first favoured using the Dubbele Augustijn capitals, but thought them too similar to the line drawing: ‘too fine and elegant’. So instead he opted for the Headline sans serif capitals to provide what he thought was the necessary ‘contrast’ to the detail of the drawing. 39 With Ibykos he believed ‘everything has its own weight and its own space. It’s asymmetric and everything is centred’. 40 In raking light the silver glows through the overprinted gold of the title.

Loney chose John Reynolds to illustrate the text and he supplied 30 drawings, five of which were chosen and made into photopolymer plates by Andrew Fell. The whole work was printed in four colours: black for all the text and poems; bronze blue for the section headings; gold for Reynolds’s illustrations and the half-title; silver for the overprinted illustrations of Oxyrhynchus fragments, epigraphs and dedication. He decided on a split edition of 95 copies: 65 on mould-made paper that Rod Cave had passed on some years earlier, and 30 on flax paper hand made by Ulrich Schmid that Loney bought specifically for the edition. Reynolds hand coloured selected pages of the smaller edition. By the end of the year production was completed and Ibykos was launched at the George Fraser Gallery on 11 December 1997.

As referred to at the beginning of this paper, Don McKenzie maintained that an integral part of the work of bibliographers was to describe and analyse the ‘social processes’ involved in textual production, including ‘consumption. If by ‘consumption’ McKenzie meant reader reception, there is one very immediate and obvious example of how we are able to ‘read’ Ibykos and that is our apprehension of Jenner’s translation. Jenner himself reworked his translations of the love song fragments on more than one occasion, as the pieces in the Thornton Festschrift attest. 41 He was still sending Loney revisions in 1996 as a result of new Italian scholarship. 42 As well, his translations stand alongside those of others: Bowra, West and Lobel, for example. Their differences highlight what Robert Fagles has described as ‘a kind of tug-of-war peculiar to translation ... trying to capture the meaning of the Greek on the one hand, trying to find a cadence for one’s English on the other,

yet joining hands, if possible, to make a line of verse’. 43 Jenner was, of course, aware of these issues. Subsumed as part of the introduction in the published text is his ‘translator’s preface’, in which he defends his translation ‘strategy’: ‘at best’, he writes, ‘the substitution of a “modernist” poetic idiom for that of the ancient Greek; at worst, a flurry of feathers on a precarious perch’.

When we hold lbykos —or any book for that matter —we perceive it in many ways. At a basic level we see it as a blue (or canvas-covered) book with Greek and English text inside and printed on unusual paper. But at the level that McKenzie asks us to consider the book, we can also see Ibykos as an exemplar of that rich and complex mix of ‘human motives and interactions’ that was only made possible as a result of what Adrian Johns has elsewhere called ‘a collective consent’. 44 The production of Ibykos engaged not only Loney for nearly two decades but also involved a great number of friends and colleagues —papermakers, binders, fellow printers, illustrators, bibliophiles and typophiles —without whom it would not have appeared.

Turnbull Library Record 34 (2001), 99-110

References 1 This article is a revised version of a paper presented at the sixth annual History of Print Culture in New Zealand seminar, National Library of New Zealand, Wellington, 26 August 2000.1 would like to acknowledge the financial assistance of the Research Executive Committee, Auckland College of Education and the Marsden Fund, Royal Society of New Zealand. 2 D. F. McKenzie, Bibliography and the sociology of texts (London: British Library, 1986), pp. 4-6. 3 Alan Loney, ‘Printing with the handpress “pleases eye and mind and hand’”, Turnbull Library Record, 12 (1979), 95-104. 4 Loney, Prospectus for Swell [December 1987?].

5 Ibid. 6 Loney to Ted Jenner, 28 July 1991, Black Light Press Records, Alexander Turnbull Library, National Library of New Zealand, Wellington (hereafter ATL), MS-Papers-5346-07. 7 Loney to David Butcher, West Midlands, 22 April 1995, Holloway Press Archives, University of Auckland Library, Auckland. 8 Walter and Mary Hamady, in Cynthia Bush (2000, May), The Perishable Press Limited. Retrieved 15 June 2000 from the World Wide Web: <http://www.lib.uiowa.edu/spec-coll/Bai/bush2.htm>

9 It is interesting to speculate about the influence of the genre on some of his own work, particularly on the method by which he reconfigured fragments of his own narratives in The erasure tapes (Auckland: Auckland University Press, 1994). See also his ‘Soma’ (1990) in Missing parts: Poems 1977-1990 (Christchurch: Hazard press, 1992), pp. 69-72, for his ‘direct and not so direct quotes and workings’ of pre-Socratic philosophers. 10 Loney to Michael Taylor, Basilisk Press and Bookshop, London, 29 March 1982, Hawk Press, Further records, ATL, 83-220-1. 11 Edgar Lobel, ‘Melic verse’ in Oxyrhynchus Papyri, 50 (1983), 67-78, and M. L. West ‘New fragments of Ibycus’ love songs’, Zeitschrift fur Papyrologie undEpigraphik, 57 (1984), 23-32. 12 Essays in honour of Agathe Thornton , ed. by Robin Hankey and Douglas Little (Dunedin: Department of Classics, University of Otago, 1985), pp.Bs-96. For the Holloway Press edition Jenner reworked 12 of the 13 fragments that had appeared in the 1985 text.

13 Ted Jenner to Loney, 31 August 1988, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-01. 14 Ibid. 15 Loney to Jenner, [August 1988?], ATL, MS-Papers-5346-01. 16 Loney, in an unpublished catalogue of the Black Light and Hawk Presses, 1988, in ‘Abandoned work’ file, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-24. 17 Loney to Jenner, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-24. 18 Jenner to Loney, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-24.

19 Clifford Burke, Printing poetry; a workbook in typographic reification (San Francisco: Scarab Press, 1980). Loney had read Burke’s book in the Turnbull Library collection and bought his own from Burke in 1981. 20 Loney to Dr J. F. Coakley, Lancaster, 16 April 1990, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-05. 21 Gunter Sperzel, Stempel, to Loney, 16 June 1989; Lettem-Service, Munich, to Loney, 4 October 1989; Loney to Harold Berliner, 10 October 1989; Glenn Todd, M& H, San Francisco, to Loney, 17 October 1989, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-03 and -04.

22 Loney to John Randle, 10 October 1989, and Randle’s reply, 11 November 1989, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-04. 23 Jenner to Loney, 17 February 1990, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-05. 24 Loney to Sebastian Carter, Cambridge, 24 October 1989, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-03. For the following correspondence see Carter to Loney, 29 January 1990; Loney to R. Tye, Mould Made Type, Preston, 4 April 1990; Loney to Coakley, 16 April 1990; Tye to Loney, 24 April 1990; Loney to Tye, 20 December 1990, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-05. 25 Loney to Coakley, 6 February 1991, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-07. 26 Loney, holograph note, 17 December 1990, Holloway Press Archive, University of Auckland Library, Auckland. 27 Loney to Jenner, 16 February 1989, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-03. 28 Jenner to Loney, 28 February 1989, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-03. 29 Loney, holograph note ‘lbykos 28.12.90’, Holloway Press Archive, University of Auckland University Library.

30 Loney to Jenner, [?] January 1991, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-07. 31 Loney to Jenner, 25 April 1991, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-07. 32 Loney to Jack Stauffacher, 16 February 1989, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-04, and 6 February 1991, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-08. 33 Loney to Jenner, 25 April 1991, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-07. Clarke was then Conservation Officer in the National Library of New Zealand. 34 Loney to Jenner, 28 July 1991, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-07. 35 Ibid. 36 Jenner to Loney, 29 August 1991 and 18 September 1991, ATL, MS-Papers-5346-07. 37 Loney in an address to students at University of Auckland, 1992, ‘Fine printing and literature — can they live together?’; unpublished typescript in possession of the author. 38 Loney, tape transcript, 25 September 1998, in possession of the author. 39 Loney, email to the author, 7 August 2000. 40 Loney, tape transcript, 25 September 1998, in possession of the author.

41 In 1988 he wrote ‘they received more loving care in translation [from me than the others and were] (revised yet again in London)’. 42 Jenner to Loney, 12 April 1996, Holloway Press Archive, University of Auckland Library, Auckland: ‘I have certainly had to rethink our fr. 13. Some minor changes are necessary to the translation... and perhaps to some of the slighter fragments, translation and text (omission rather than addition)’. 43 Homer, The Odyssey, translated by Robert Fagles, (New York: Viking, 1996), p. 492. 44 Adrian Johns, The making of the book: Print and knowledge in the making (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1998), p. 3.