Letter from the Editor
Happy leap day, reader! And welcome to the February 2024 issue of The Stationer.
Beyond its astronomical significance, the leap day has a metaphorical resonance that permeates our lives. It encourages us to welcome change and seize new opportunities, but also to question the current norm. Two months in, and this leap year has already been a driving force for innovation, which has been spurred by advances in rapidly-developing technologies such as artificial intelligence.
Reach, the publisher behind newspapers such as the Mirror and Express, has rolled out its own AI tool, Gutenbot, that enables journalists to quickly rewrite stories which have already appeared on other websites within its network. In a note to staff, Reach said Guten exists to make employees’ jobs easier. It could also develop brand-new positions in data analysis and content curation. But some have questioned whether the automation of news reporting will result in the erosion of journalism professions, the like we haven’t seen since the Wapping dispute of the 1980s.
Meanwhile, Search Generative Experiences are set to be rolled out across the internet, which will offer a faster and more intuitive way to access information. However, they are likely to present a unique challenge for publishers and advertisers that rely on traditional browsers to drive traffic.
Other sectors are seeing far more positive progress, particularly when it comes to sustainability. Last month, a new trial aimed at creating paper-based packaging from agricultural waste was launched. And according to one of the firms involved – FTSE 100 packaging giant DS Smith – ‘second harvest’ materials such as straw have the potential to save up to 10 per cent of the virgin fibres used in the papermaking process.
This leap day, therefore, provides an opportunity for us to take stock and to harness the necessary changes needed within the content and communications industries. But it is also time approach these unknowns with a critical and inquisitive mindset. Because the road ahead of us is brimming with opportunities just waiting to be harnessed.
And a reminder: If you are interested in contributing to The Stationer, wish to share a job opportunity, or simply fancy having a chat, feel free to drop our publisher, Rob Wilding, a line at robert.wilding96@gmail.com.
Bill Bowkett, Editor of The Stationer. He posts @bill_bowkett.
On February 8, Heidi Kinderman gave a lecture to the Black Books Society at The Honourable Society of Lincoln’s Inn in London on a specific manuscript in the Inn’s collection, known as ‘The Neville Statutes.’ It can tell us a lot about manuscript production in the 15th century, but also has interesting connections to the Wars of the Roses, depictions of Kingship and statute books in general. The following is a shortened version of the lecture.
THE Neville Statutes is one of the finest manuscripts in the Inn’s collection. It was owned by John Neville, Marquess of Montagu. He was a scion of the Neville family, the most significant noble family in England in the 1400s. You will probably have heard of his older brother, Richard Neville, the Earl of Warwick (more commonly known as the Kingmaker during the Wars of the Roses).
The Neville Statutes contain, as its name suggests, the statutes passed under the monarchs from Edward III up to Henry VI. The main body opens up to an absolutely astonishing folio: a fully decorated border, with vines and florals extending around it, as well as the Marquess’s and royal coat of arms. It is written in an elegant hand, and there are two scripts used: a gothic script and a more cursive Anglicana, but both finely executed with formality and consistency.
The initial statute is inhabited by a very fine picture of Edward III. It shows the King handing a written paper – probably the law itself – to the peers of the Realm. These include the Lords Spiritual, the equivalent of Bishops in the House of Lords, and the Lords Temporal, or hereditary peers.
The question is why does this manuscript exist? One might expect this level of decoration in a more literary text. It is useful to put this in the context of statute books as a whole. Statute books are actually the largest extant body of English manuscripts after Bibles, Psalms and Books of Hours. There is well over 400 in existence.
Statute books are fundamentally English manuscripts, even if they were written in French, the language of the law. They had no use outside of England, as they are so intrinsic to the legislative system. They were mostly used by lawyers, local government officials and parliamentarians. For this reason they tended to be utilitarian documents. They are plain to look at, created for reference and for learning the law, not for display.
However, in the 15th century there was a ‘golden age’ of manuscript production and illumination where guilds were established. In 1403 the manuscript writers and limners merged to form the Stationers’ Company.
At the same time, in England there was instability caused by the start of the Wars of the Roses in the 1450s, which affected all parts of society but particularly the noble classes. Among this instability there is a widening in participation in the law, particularly from nobles and gentry to give themselves legal knowledge, sometimes to fight acts of attainder, and as tangible objects of authority. The Neville Statutes was part of all these trends.
But the Neville Statutes is unusual because it is part of a family of fourteen statute books which are all nearly identical. Most of them belonged to senior people in the law or nobility, and all of them belonged to armigerous individuals. One probably belonged to Henry VI’s son.
This leads us to think that there is some kind of systematic production, rather than unique manuscripts being commissioned by individual owners. Evidence backs this up. If we look at the folios in the statutes, the coats of arms have been added separately. They are less detailed, and in different pigments than the border. The same pattern is evident in all fourteen manuscripts.
Who was making these? Scholars Kathleen Scott and Jeremy Griffiths identify three people who worked on multiple of these manuscripts. One is the scribe, who Griffiths calls the ‘Inner Temple Scribe’: he worked on eleven. There is also a border artist who worked on at least six, and an illuminator called the ‘Placentius’ Master, who worked on at least four. There are at least six other illuminators who worked on two or more.
There are often multiple illuminators working on one manuscript – the initials in the City of London Cartae Antiquae, for instance, are done by more than four. There was a network of artisans bookmakers working across these: potentially on a subcontracting basis, where on artisan (perhaps the scribe) starts the work and then passes it on to illuminators to fill out the border, initials, and coats of arms.
That’s not to say that the owner does not matter. Buying models at this point are more complex than simply walking into Waterstones and grabbing a book. Owners likely bought manuscripts part way through production and so could influence the content.
And owners do influence these manuscripts, evidenced by deviations from the ‘standard’ image of the king: that is, His Majesty being crowned and enthroned, surrounded by his Lords, either holding the instruments of state – the orb and the sceptre – or dispensing the written law. This standard image in itself creates a particular ‘iconography of kingship’: the king as sovereign, as just, as a lawgiver.
The king is centred in the middle of the image, always slightly forward or above his Lords, and so sovereign over them. The instruments of state, which also have divine associations, are ultimate symbols of power. But the king is also pictured as part of a balance of power, where he is one part of a governmental system, and as if in conversation with the Lords, and the Lords have open hands as if advising the king – to use an anachronism, it is government by consent!
The effect of this repeated iconography throughout each volume is a vision of ‘inherited’ kingship. The crown does not change, and the ideals of kingship are passed on through an unbroken line of monarchs.
However, in some of the manuscripts this iconography is made more striking by deviations from it: and in each of these cases, these can be seen as declarations of Lancastrian or Yorkist loyalty during the Wars of the Roses. In one version, the portrait of Henry VI shows angels above him, and the Lords below him. He straddles the space between, ascending into heaven. It is likely that the owner was a supporter of Henry VI and this was part of a campaign to have him canonised after his death. It is clearly intended to show pro-Lancastrian sentiment.
And finally we come to the Neville Statutes. There are no major deviations here, but Henry VI is depicted differently. All the other kings have long beards and look quite stalwart, whereas Henry VI is shown without hair, as particularly youthful. It is likely that this is intended to display Henry VI as innocent, whilst retaining the idea that he inherits the right to rule. This is more easily concluded by a look at the Marquess of Montagu’s life… which gives us an answer to why he bought this manuscript.
John Neville, like most of his family, was a staunch Yorkist: he even refused to join his brother Richard’s first rebellion against Edward IV. John was rewarded by Edward IV for his loyalty; he was even made the Earl of Northumberland in 1464, taking the title from his great rival, Henry Percy. In 1470 Edward IV made him the Marquess of Montagu, but this was a demotion from the Earldom.
Edward IV had grown suspicious of the Nevilles, particularly Richard, who was in fact scheming to reinstall Henry VI on the throne, and wanted to reduce their power. After being made Marquess of Montagu, he defected from the Yorkist side; and he died less than a year later, in 1471, at the Battle of Barnet.
In those months between defecting and dying, John Neville must have been desperate to prove his new loyalty to the Lancastrian side, after twenty years of fighting for the Yorkists. This statute book was one of the ways he did so: the volume ends with Henry VI, with no indication of any of the turbulence around the time of its making. It portrays Henry VI as the rightful claimant to the throne, the successor in the long line of English kingship.
This is a book which Henry VI perhaps saw, and one which is almost identical to the one produced for his son. It is likely that this is the manuscript’s ultimate meaning: even if it was referenced and read as a law book, and displayed as a status symbol, it was ultimately a political declaration of Lancastrian legitimacy.
Heidi Kinderman is a Research Librarian at Bryan Cave Leighton Paisner. Follow her on LinkedIn.
Industry takeaways
Publisher demand is clearly out of sync with distributor supply, The Bookseller reports, as smaller presses struggle to find new partners. Existing distributor capacity remains limited following the closure of Grantham Book Services almost a year ago.
The European Union has opened an investigation into TikTok over online content and child safeguarding, the Guardian writes. It is suggested that the Chinese-owned video platform has breached the Digital Services Act in areas such as age verification, with algorithms leading underage users down damaging content ‘rabbit holes’.
New research from waste management company Biffa has revealed that only one in 400 paper fibre cups are being recycled each year. It is estimated that up to 5 billion disposable takeaway cups are used annually in the UK. Sustainable Packaging News has the scoop (not literally).
Vice Media Group is ‘eliminating several hundred positions’ and halting publication on its website. In 2017 the digital media and broadcasting company was valued at nearly $6billion but has become weighed down with debt and struggled to establish a sustainable revenue model. Read more on Press Gazette.
The Government has supported initiatives to clamp down on baseless legal suits that aim to suppress journalists and other detractors, the BBC reports. The new measures target Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPPs), commonly employed by wealthy individuals to prevent exposure of misconduct.
Opportunities board
Marketing assistant, Park Theatre (London)— Apply by March 20
Design Graduate Placement, Sky (London)— Apply by April 8
Office Coordinator, Tonic (London) — Apply by March 19
Contracts & Rights Coordinator, ITV (Leeds) —Apply by March 7
Assistant, Information Management, Arts Council England (Manchester) — Apply by March 1
Young Stationers put in strong showing in Annual Inter-Livery Quiz
The annual Young Livery Inter-Livery Quiz took place on Monday 12th February at Merchant Taylors’ Hall. The Young Stationers entered a team (left to right: Bill Bowkett, Rob Wilding, Nina-Sophia Miralles, Maria Nae, Ben Platten and Ben Finnis) and put in a very respectable showing, finishing sixth out of nineteen teams. Next year will be our year…
The Stationer is edited by Bill Bowkett. Please send thoughts, feedback and corrections to bill.bowkett@btinternet.com. Follow the Young Stationers on Facebook, X and Instagram. For more information, visit www.stationers.org/company/young-stationers.