Jessy Randall and I recently taught our January-term class on the history and future of books. We changed things from the last time we did the course, so I thought I’d share here the full syllabus and other documents from 2012 History and Future of the Book (PDF). I can also share the electronic version of the letterpress book the students researched, wrote, designed, and printed, Title:

The “other documents” along with the syllabus are things like the midterm exam, the course evaluation, and the “final you don’t have to take.” We’d originally planned to have a final exam, but due to the complexity of the printing project and the fact that we really wanted them to focus on refining their virtual exhibition assignments, we chose to forego the exam. But that didn’t mean that I had stopped thinking of things I wanted to ask them.

Most of the questions on the “fake final” are questions that I actually find somewhat intriguing, but that I either left more raw or more jokey than I’d feel comfortable putting on a real exam. But Jessy had a very good question that she and I had talked briefly about during the class, but that never really made it to an open class discussion. Here’s my version of that question, which I think could have been a very good final exam essay question, indeed.

For a college book-collecting contest, a student wanted to submit a collection of electronic books. Would you allow such a submission? In supporting your answer consider some of the following: What are good criteria for judging a collection of tangible, physical books? Is it possible to evaluate a collection of electronic books the same way, or would you propose different criteria? Is it possible or useful to compare collections of paper books and electronic books? How do concepts of “individuality,” “ownership,” and “scarcity” affect your answer? Is book collecting of any kind merely a bourgeois exercise in Pokemon-esque conspicuous consumption, narcissism, elitism, and crypto-fetishism by an anal-retentive phallocracy of bibliobores?