Leafing through some tiny treasures

In 1896, in Padua, Italy, a publisher created a marvel of the book world. It was "Galileo a Madama Cristina de Lorena." The content: a 1615 letter by the great astronomer that argued passionately for the harmony of science and religion, written to the Swedish Princess Christina, who was one of Galileo's patrons. For the letter and other writings defending the Copernican view of the solar system, Galileo was eventually sentenced by the Catholic Inquisition to permanent house arrest.

The marvel is not the content of the book, or the idea of publishing it, but that it is only 18 by 13 millimeters -- about 3/4 inches by 1/2 inch. In its day, it was the smallest book ever printed with movable type, using 2-point type called "Fly's eye." As Galileo suffered for his science, so legend says the 1896 typesetter went blind from making his masterpiece.

Starting tomorrow, the Boston Public Library will showcase this book, about 100 others like it, and the passion for tiny beauty in an exhibition in the Cheverus Gallery called "Miniature Books: 4,000 Years of Tiny Treasures." The show, which runs through Sept. 2, is curated by Boston rare-books dealer Anne C. Bromer, and parallels a show by the same name at New York's Grolier Club Library, curated by St. Louis-based collector Julian I. Edison. The exhibition draws on both Bromer's and the BPL's collections.

Edison and Bromer are also co-authors of a new illustrated gift book with the same title as the exhibitions, and Bromer gives an illustrated lecture at the library today at 6 p.m .

The range of objects in the show, most of them a couple of inches head to foot, is eclectic, including an illuminated manuscript of Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, a set of the complete works of Shakespeare (2 inches high and said to be perfectly readable), a book illustrated by Picasso, the smallest Bible in the world (chained to a minuscule lectern), and the world's tiniest world atlas. The time span runs from 4,000-year-old cuneiform tablets to a book made in 2002. There are children's books, political campaign books, books of travel, architecture, and music, from the reverent to the naughty -- the same variety as in any good private library.

In an interview with Bromer, and in a preview of the exhibition, the quality and beauty of some of the works was evident. There is a stunning illuminated prayer book, in vellum and leather, from the 16th century. Even older books have floral decorations that almost rival the Book of Kells. Tinier still was an 18th-century Dutch volume, "Little Flower Garden," 13 by 9 millimeters, bound with two silver latches -- believed to be the smallest book in the world until about 1900. Mostly made by hand, though many are printed, these objects make tiny microprocessors, remarkable as they are, seem almost boring.

Bromer has been madly in love with miniatures -- she and her husband, David J. Bromer, owners of Bromer Booksellers, usually have hundreds in their holdings -- since she first saw a tiny set at a book dealer in the 1970s. Collecting them since then, she said, is a labor of love. They have also commissioned and published 14 miniatures, all of them in the show. Along with her love for rare and beautiful books of all kinds, she is eager to bring more attention to miniatures.

"Miniature books are more than curiosities," she said. "They have contributed to the literary world in a bigger way than their size suggests. I want to elevate their significance and show their importance. There is a gravitas to them. They're jewel-like, very beautiful objects to touch and hold."

As with all sort s of collectables, there are organizations and newsletters for miniature books. Edison has long been editor of Miniature Book News. Eileen Cummings, based in San Diego, is president of the Miniature Book Society and owns 5,000 miniatures. "There's such variety of subject and authors," Cummings said by telephone. "I love the uniqueness of a tiny book. I can carry a library in my purse. People know about them, but when they see them, they're in shock."

A friend who paged through the Bromer/Edison book with wonder asked, as many people do: "Why would anyone do this?" Asked that question, Bromer explained that some miniatures were exercises by craftsmen wanting to challenge themselves or master their crafts, others were for children to learn the alphabet, and in the Middle Ages they often served a practical devotional purpose. Portability was also a value.

"There's evidence that the little [medieval] prayer books were used," said Hope Mayo, Philip Hofer Curator of Printing and Graphic Arts at Harvard's Houghton Library, which had an exhibition of miniatures in 2005. "They show signs that someone turned pages at the corners, or they are faded from handling or even kissing. They not only could be held in a purse or sleeve but as an amulet around the neck."

As for why they appeal to us now, Mayo said, "They are feats of craftsmanship. They have aesthetic beauty. People who like them feel a personal attachment to particular copies. And they're visually appealing -- they're cute."

Bromer's personal connection to her tiny treasures is clear as she talks about wanting people to touch and hold them. "People should have the experience," she said. Though one might think them especially fragile and delicate, Bromer doesn't see it that way. "People are more careful than when they hold a full-size book. I don't make them wear gloves because I want them to have a direct connection to the book. There's a visceral reaction."