Kenneth Spencer Research Library

As an elder millennial who loved history as a child and grew up with American Girl, I’ve been excited about the company’s 40th anniversary this year. As a result, I will be sharing a series of posts highlighting Spencer collection materials that connect to AG’s six original historical characters, in chronological order of when they “lived”: Felicity Merriman, Josefina Montoya, Kirsten Larson, Addy Walker, Samantha Parkington, and Molly McIntyre. Each post will focus on a different character and explore a selection of items that relate to the time and place in which she “lived” and topics or themes explored in her stories.

Nine-year-old Kirsten Larson is described as a girl of “strength and spirit.” When readers first meet Kirsten, she is on board a ship with her family and other Swedish immigrants in 1854. (Congress passed the Kansas-Nebraska Act that same year, although it is not mentioned in Kirsten’s books.) After landing in New York City, the Larsons travel by rail to Chicago, then by wagon to the Mississippi River, and then by riverboat to the territory of Minnesota, their final destination. Tragically – and memorably for young readers – Kirsten’s best friend Marta dies of cholera during the journey. Another iconic moment in Kirsten’s books occurs when she wears a wreath with lit candles to celebrate the feast day of St. Lucy (Saint Lucia) on December 13th. Additional plot points include Kirsten’s struggles to feel at home in America and learn English at school, her friendship with a Dakota girl named Singing Bird, her new baby sister, and dangerous encounters with bees and raccoons.

Left: A view of the scenic valley carved by the Minnesota River, which was previously named the St. Peter River. Middle: A “map showing the present boundaries of the Ojibwa [sic], Menomonee [sic], Winnebago, and Dacotah [sic] tribes.” Right: A “Dakotah [sic] encampment.” All images are from Information Respecting the History, Condition and Prospects of the Indian Tribes of the United States by Henry R. Schoolcraft and illustrated by Seth Eastman, volume 2, 1853. Containing six volumes of data “collected and prepared under the direction of the Bureau of Indian Affairs,” this work is considered the most comprehensive study of Native American cultures. Call Number: RH E175. Click images to enlarge.

The front cover and selected early lessons from McGuffey’s New Eclectic First Reader by William H. McGuffey, 1853. According to Miami University Libraries, McGuffey Readers were an immediate success upon their initial publication in 1836. They “became standard texts in nearly all states, eclipsing all rival textbook publications for half a century and reaching a reputed total sale of over 150 million copies.” The textbook Kirsten used in school is listed below. Call Number: RH A94. Click images to enlarge.

Selected pages from Karen B. Spicher’s “term paper and folklore collection relating to the Lindsborg, Kansas, area and Swedish-American culture,” English 104, University of Kansas, 1971. Swedish immigrants have been settling in Kansas since the 1850s, and Lindsborg (located roughly 160 miles west of Lawrence) is known as “Little Sweden USA.” Culture and Folklore Studies Collection. Call Number: RH MS 966. Click images to enlarge.

Selected Additional Collection Items

Sweden

• A Compendious History of the Goths, Swedes, & Vandals and Other Northern Nations by Olaus Magnus, London: 1658. This is the first English publication of Magnus’s Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus (described above), although it was an abridged version and not a full translation. Call Number: D86.
• Konungariket sveriges industriella tillstand år 1847 [The Industrial State of the Kingdom of Sweden in the Year 1847] by Ole Jørgen Rawert, Stockholm: 1849. Call Number: Howey C1755.
• Yule-tide Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions, From the Swedish, Danish, and German edited by Benjamin Thorpe, London: 1853. Call Number: B12266.

Immigration, the West, and Minnesota (Including Maps)

• Several of the sources listed here also document the early history of Kansas. Spencer’s Kansas Collection includes many additional works about the 1854 Kansas-Nebraska Act and the often violent territorial period that followed.
• Historical Collections of the Great West by Henry Howe, Cincinnati: 1851. Call Number: RH C4344.
• Western Portraiture, and Emigrants’ Guide: A Description of Wisconsin, Illinois, and Iowa; With Remarks on Minnesota, and Other Territories by Daniel S. Curtiss, New York: 1852. Call Number: RH B829.
• Guide Through Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Wisconsin & Iowa by J. Calvin Smith, New York: 1853. This map also includes Minnesota. It was frequently published with The Western Tourist and Emigrant’s Guide, listed below. Call Number: RH Map R244.
• Disturnell’s New Map of the United States and Canada: Showing All the Canals, Rail Roads, Telegraph Lines and Principal Stage Routes by Henry A. Burr, New York: 1853. Call Number: Orbis Maps 2:211.
• The Western Tourist and Emigrant’s Guide Through the States of Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Iowa and Wisconsin, and the Territories of Minesota [sic], Missouri, and Nebraska by J. H. Colton, New York: 1854. Call Number: RH B1018.
• The States and Territories of the Great West by Jacob Ferris, New York and Buffalo: 1856. Call Number: RH B153.

Indigenous Peoples

• The Book of Genesis and a Part of the Psalms … the Gospels of Luke and John … the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles of Paul, with the Revelation of John, in the Dakota Language, translated by Stephen R. Riggs and others, Cincinnati: 1842. Call Number: RH B838.
• Stories About Indians, Concord, New Hampshire: 1850. Call Number: Children B13.
• The Song of Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, first edition, Boston: 1855. Call Number: B2858.

Science and Medicine

• Spencer has an “impressive collection of over two thousand volumes of works” by and related to Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeus (1707-1778), who developed the system of binomial nomenclature that still used to name species of living organisms.
• The Theory and Treatment of Fevers by Dr. John Sappington, Arrow Rock, Missouri: 1844. Call Number: B7574.
• A Compendious System of Midwifery, Chiefly Designed to Facilitate the Inquiries of Those Who May be Pursuing This Branch of Study by William P. Dewees, Philadelphia: 1847. Call Number: C23432.
• The Married Woman’s Private Medical Companion by Dr. A. M. Mauriceau, New York: 1850. Call Number: B18315.
• Entomology, volume 7: Bees, by William Jardine, Edinburgh and London: 1853. Call Number: Ellis Omnia B239.

Children’s Books and Education

• The Child’s First Reader by Salem Town, Portland, Maine: 1848. This is the textbook that Kirsten uses in school. Call Number: Monaghan B1040.
• Thoughts on the Education of Girls by Mrs. Anna C. Lowell, Boston: 1853. Call Number: Children 1212B.
• The Flower of the Family: A Book for Girls by Elizabeth Prentiss, New York: 1854. Call Number: Children 1104B.
• Frank and the Farmer by Maria Edgeworth, Troy, New York: possibly 1854. Call Number: Children 6026.

Caitlin Klepper
Public Engagement Librarian

This week, on October 15 & 16, KU’s Gunn Center for the Study of Science Fiction hosts their annual Sturgeon Symposium, showcasing work in the speculative fiction field from around the world. This year their theme is “Changing Words, Changing Worlds: SF as a Literature of Resistance”, and in honor of that, we’re highlighting an author from our Science Fiction Collections who challenged the genre’s ideas of gender. 

In 1977, the science fiction community was turned upside down when award-winning author James Tiptree Jr. was revealed to be a woman, Alice Bradley Sheldon, known to her friends as Alli.  

Alli led a fascinating and complicated life – much of which she drew from when creating the background for Tiptree. She was the only child of two high society, globetrotting adventurers from Chicago. Alli began her career as a professional painter & art critic, before joining the US Army during World War II and going into air force intelligence. After the war, she was with the CIA for several years until leaving to pursue a PhD in experimental psychology.  

Only in 1967 did she begin her pen-name journey as science fiction author James Tiptree Jr., publishing her first short story in Analog magazine in 1968. She went on to become a prolific and renowned author until her death in 1987, where she took her husband’s life and then her own, in alleged suicide pact.  

Here at Spencer Research Library, we hold the original letters from Tiptree/Sheldon to her agent, Robert Mills, as well as a wide collection of her work as published in magazines, anthologies, and standalone volumes. Visit our North Gallery exhibit space throughout the month of October to learn more about Tiptree/Sheldon, see some of her original letters with her iconic blue-ribbon typewriter ink, and read her work. And join us in participating in the 2026 Sturgeon Symposium! 

Centi Newby 
Public Services Associate

Classic children’s books continue to connect generations through stories that inspire imagination, adventure, and wonder. In this fifth post in a series highlighting titles from Spencer Research Library’s vast children’s book collection, I’ll explore the classic series: Little Golden Books.

Children’s books offer more than stories. As physical objects, they preserve evidence of how young readers learned, collected, shared, and experienced books across generations. Few books reveal the history of childhood as vividly as Little Golden Books. Long before they entered library collections, they served as affordable companions in childhood, passing through the hands of generations of young readers.

Among the countless treasures preserved at Spencer Research Library, Little Golden Books stand out because they were never intended to be rare or exclusive. They were affordable, mass-produced books created for everyday childhood reading. Unlike finely bound volumes designed for collectors, these books were meant to be handled by small hands, carried from room to room, and read over and over again.

Particularly notable among Spencer’s holdings are four of the twelve original Little Golden Books released in 1942: The Little Red Hen, Nursery Songs, The Poky Little Puppy, and The First Little Golden Book of Fairy Tales.

Little Golden Books are one of the oldest and likely the longest running continuously published children’s book series, still releasing new titles today. For more than eight decades, generations of children have recognized the distinctive gold spine on books ranging from classic stories to contemporary favorites. The series grew from a small collection of affordable children’s books into a publishing phenomenon that shaped generations of young readers.

When Little Golden Books first appeared in the early 1940s, they represented a significant shift in children’s publishing. Their creators sought to produce books that families could afford and children could enjoy independently. The result was a compact, durable format accompanied by engaging illustrations and a price point that made ownership possible for many families. They sold for just twenty-five cents, a fraction of the cost of most children’s books of the era. Their creators aimed to make books accessible to a much wider audience than traditional children’s publishing had previously reached. For most children, a Little Golden Book was one of the first books they could truly call their own. Their low cost placed ownership within reach of families who might not otherwise been able to purchase children’s books, allowing children to build personal collections one volume at a time.

The books themselves were designed with young readers in mind. Large type, uncluttered layouts, and abundant illustrations made them appealing to children who were just beginning to develop literacy skills. Even before a child could read independently, illustrations offered a way to engage with stories and follow their narratives. Illustrations played a significant role in the success of Little Golden Books. For many children, the pictures were as memorable as the stories themselves.

Full-color printing increased production costs, publishers often combined color and black-and-white illustrations within the same volume. This approach helped keep books affordable while maintaining visual appeal. A particularly striking example appears in The Taxi That Hurried, where a panoramic illustration stretches across facing pages printed in both color and black and white. The spread illustrates how publishers balanced engaging artwork with economical production methods.

Affordability alone, however, did not guarantee success. Publishers also expanded where children’s books could be found, placing Little Golden Books in department stores (like Filene’s), drug stores, supermarkets, and other everyday retail spaces rather than only in bookstores. The shiny gold spine made each book feel special like a treasure to cherish. The recognizable gold spines, bright covers, and low price worked together to make reading approachable and accessible.

Little Golden Books were marketed not simply as individual books, but as part of a larger series. Publishers encouraged readers to discover additional titles through lists printed on back covers. These lists transformed each book into a child’s wishlist.

Books preserved in Spencer’s collection reveal the remarkable growth of the series over time. An edition of The Poky Little Puppy advertises only a few dozen titles available, while later books list well over one hundred titles. The books themselves document the expansion of the publishing program and the increasing variety available to young readers.

Although Little Golden Books were mass-produced, no two surviving copies necessarily share the same history. Gift inscriptions, ownership markings, and names written on endpapers transform standardized commercial products into individualized artifacts. These handwritten traces document the children and families who owned the books and remind us that Little Golden Books were frequently given as gifts for birthdays, holidays, book themed baby showers, and other special occasions.

Gift inscriptions and ownership marks document how Little Golden Books circulated among families and became part of everyday childhood experiences. Left: Chip Chip, 1947. Call Number: Children C947. Right: The First Little Golden Book of Fairy Tales, 1946. Call Number: Children 3681. Click images to enlarge.

After the stories themselves faded from memory, other things remained: the shine of a gold spine catching the light on a bedroom shelf, pages worn soft at the corners, a carefully written name inside the cover, a favorite and read again and again. The books were taken on long car rides, tucked beneath a pillow, buried in a toy box, or kicked across the living room floor before being gathered up with sticky fingers and read again.  Others disappeared beneath couch cushions, were packed into Going to Grandma’s bags, or sat in a stack beside the bed waiting for bedtime.  Covers became creased. Spines lost their shine. Yet those signs of wear are reminders that these books were doing exactly what they were meant to do: being loved.

Many Little Golden Books still survive in family collections, tucked away in boxes, resting on bookshelves, or passed from one generation to the next. Years later, they become reminders of a time when a child could still snuggle beside you for a story, when the day’s worries paused for a few pages, and when an inexpensive little book could feel like treasure.

Their gold spines made them feel important. Not because they were rare or valuable, but because they belonged to someone. They were the books children reached for at bedtime and lined up on shelves as a small collection grew one title at a time.

One day there are only a few books on the shelf. Then there are ten. Then twenty. Before long, a small row of shiny gold spines becomes a child’s first library, growing quietly alongside the child who treasures it. Without realizing it, parents measure the passing years in bedtime stories, favorite characters, and books that become worn through use and affection.

Long after the gold spine has faded and the corners have softened, the memory remains: the sound of pages turning, a familiar voice reading aloud, and the quiet realization that the little library built one story at a time was never just a collection of books. It was a record of a childhood that passed far too quickly. The stories come to an end, the bookshelf fills up, and the years slip by. But what remains are the memories and the quiet magic of sharing a story together.

Copies of Little Golden Books (published by Simon and Schuster, New York) in Spencer’s holdings:

• Little Red Hen, illustrated by Rudolf Freund, 1942 (Call Number: Children 3680).
• Nursery Songs, arranged by Leah Gale and illustrated by Corinne Malvern, 1942 (Call Number: Children 3675).
• Poky Little Puppy by Janette Sebring Lowrey, illustrated by Gustaf Tenggren, 1946 (Call Number: Children B2889).
• The First Little Golden Book of Fairy Tales, illustrated by Gertrude Elliott, 1946 (Call Number: Children 3681).
• A Day in the Jungle by Janette Sebring Lowrey, illustrated by Tibor Gergely, 1943 (Call Number: Children B2888).
• The Lively Little Rabbit by Ariane [Georges Duplaix], illustrated by Gustaf Teggren, 1943 (Call Number: Children B2701).
• Nursery Tales, illustrated by Masha [Maria Simchow Stern], 1943 (Call Number: Children: C866).
• Fairy Tales, illustrated by Gertrude Elliott, 1946 (Call Number: Children 3681).
• The Taxi That Hurried by Lucy Sprague Mitchell, Irma Simonton Black, and Jessie Stanton; pictures by Tibor Gergely, 1946 (Call Number: Children C863).
• The Seven Sneezes by Olga Cabral; pictures by Tibor Gergely, 1948 (Call Number: Children C862).
• Chip Chip by Norman Wright; pictures by Nino Carbe, 1947 (Call Number: Children C947).
• Walt Disney’s Bambi, adapted by Bob Grant; illustrations from Walt Disney’s Studio, 1948 (Call Number: Children C861).
• Walt Disney’s Cinderella, adapted by Campbell Grant; illustrations from Walt Disney’s Studio, 1950 (Call Number: Children C873).
• Walt Disney’s Alice in Wonderland: Finds the Garden of Live Flowers, told by Jane Werner; pictures by the Walt Disney Studio, 1951 (Call Number: Children 4479).

Meredith Phares
Operations Manager

As an elder millennial who loved history as a child and grew up with American Girl, I’ve been excited about the company’s 40th anniversary this year. As a result, I will be sharing a series of posts highlighting Spencer collection materials that connect to AG’s six original historical characters, in chronological order of when they “lived”: Felicity Merriman, Josefina Montoya, Kirsten Larson, Addy Walker, Samantha Parkington, and Molly McIntyre. Each post will focus on a different character and explore a selection of items that relate to the time and place in which she “lived” and topics or themes explored in her stories.

When readers meet Josefina Montoya, she is a nine-year girl described as having a big heart and big hopes. She lives with her father and sisters on a ranch outside Santa Fe, New Mexico – then part of Mexico – in 1824. Josefina’s stories are set against the backdrop of Mexico’s recent independence from Spain, and a significant plot point is the arrival of Americans via the Santa Fe Trail (which passed through Douglas County, Kansas, roughly fifteen miles south of Lawrence and KU). Throughout her stories, Josefina grieves and remembers her deceased mother; adjusts to changes at the ranch brought about her aunt, Tía Dolores; deals with goats, including her nemesis Florecita and the orphaned baby goat Sombrita; and starts the journey of becoming a curandera (healer).

A letter from O. Wheeler, Camp Leavenworth, Kansas, to Dr. C. Keeny, Liberty, Missouri, August 8, 1827. Most of the letter concerns a “disorder” or illness affecting Wheeler’s horse. The U. S. Army established Camp (now Fort) Leavenworth in 1827, the same year this letter was written, to serve as a forward base protecting the Santa Fe Trail. Call Number: RH MS P174.

Selected Additional Collection Items

Maps

• Regni Mexicani seu Novæ Hispaniæ, Floridæ, Novæ Angliæ, Carolinæ, Virginiæ, et Pennsylvaniæ, nec non insvlarvm archipelagi Mexicani in America septentrionali [The Kingdom of Mexico, or New Spain, Florida, New England, the Carolinas, Virginia, and Pennsylvania, as Well as the Insular Archipelago of Mexico in North America] by Johann Baptist Homann, 1722. Call Number: Orbis Maps 1:60.
• A Map of Louisiana and Mexico = Carte de la Louisiane et du Mexique, 1820. Call Number: Orbis Maps 1:134.
• Map of the Western Territory of the United States by Lt. Enoch Steen. Coverage includes Indian lands from 80 miles east of Leavenworth to 50 miles west of Pikes Peak and Black Hill to Santa Fe. Call Number: RH Map S31.
• A Map of the Indian Territory, Northern Texas and New Mexico: Showing the Great Western Prairies by Josiah Gregg, from Commerce of the Prairies, 1844. Call Number: RH Map Q57.
• Mapa de los Estados Unidos de Méjico [Map of the United States of Mexico], 1847. Call Number: Orbis Maps 2:61.
• Map of Santa Fe County, New Mexico, 1880s? Shows railroads and pre-European pueblos in and near Santa Fe County. Call Number: RH Map R529.

New Spain and Mexico

• Exploratory Travels Through the Western Territories of North America by Zebulon Pike, 1811. During his 1806-1807 expedition to the region south and west of the Louisiana Purchase, Pike ended up in Spanish territory. His party was captured by Spanish soldiers, and their subsequent journey took them through Santa Fe. Call Number: D678.
• Memoirs of the Mexican Revolution: Including a Narrative of the Expedition of General Xavier Mina by William Davis Robinson, 1820. Call Number: Howey C4191.
• Six Months’ Residence and Travels in Mexico by William Bullock, 1824. Call Number: Ellis Aves C207.
• A View of South-America and Mexico, Comprising Their History, the Political Condition, Geography, Agriculture, Commerce, &c. by John M. Niles, 1825. Call Number: B11232.

New Mexico, Santa Fe, and the Santa Fe Trail

• The Daily New Mexican newspaper, published in Santa Fe, 1880-1881. Call Number: RH H24.
• Santa Fe: Ancient and Modern, Including Its Resources and Industries edited by W.G. Ritch, 1885. Call Number: RH C1375.
• Southwest on the Turquoise Trail: The First Diaries on the Road to Santa Fe edited by Archer Butler Hulbert, 1933. Call Number: RH C451.
• Historic Santa Fe, Founded About 1525: Oldest Town in the United States: The End of the Old Santa Fe Trail, 1940s? Call Number: RH AK121.
• Santa Fe Trail: First Reports, 1825 by Augustus Storrs and Alphonso Wetmore, 1960. Call Number: RH B1126.

Household Matters

• Quatro libros de la naturaleza, y virtudes de las plantas, y animales que estan receuidos en el uso de medicina en la Nueua España [Four Books on the Nature and Virtues of Plants and Animals for Medicinal Purposes in New Spain] by Francisco Hernandez, 1615. Call Number: Summerfield B2225.
• Mexican recipes, early 1800s. This is a collection of culinary recipes – written in various hands and mostly undated – that appear to be from central and southern Mexico. The collection was previously featured on Spencer’s blog. Call Number: MS 346.
• A New Dictionary of the Spanish and English Languages compiled by Henry Neuman, 1823. Call Number: C26852.
• El cocinero mexicano, o Coleccion de las mejores recetas para guisar al estilo americano [The Mexican Cook, or Collection of the Best Recipes for Cooking in the American Style], volume 3 only, 1831. This work is one of two cookbooks from 1831 that are considered the first on Mexican cuisine published in Mexico. Call Number: B14945.

Caitlin Klepper
Public Engagement Librarian

Classic children’s books continue to connect generations through stories that inspire imagination, adventure, and wonder. In this fourth post in a series highlighting titles from Spencer Research Library’s vast children’s book collection, a well-traveled copy of The Odyssey for Boys and Girls reveals an unexpected connection across time.

My recent interest in The Odyssey began somewhat unexpectedly. I had seen discussions of a recent adaptation by a female author and was intrigued by the conversation surrounding it. There is something fascinating about watching a story evolve as each generation discovers new ways to tell it. Even so, I did not plan to see the new film adaptation. I rarely go to movies, and it likely would have passed me by had I not been invited. The experience left me thinking not only about Odysseus and his journey home, but also about the remarkable journey of the story itself.

A short time later, while searching for animal stories for an entirely different blog post, I happened upon a 1923 copy of The Odyssey for Boys and Girls translated and edited by Alfred John Church (Call Number: Children C36). Its striking Art Deco cover and spine immediately caught my attention, standing out among the surrounding volumes in a way they might not have only a few weeks earlier. Perhaps it was serendipity. Perhaps it was simply timing. Much like buying a new car and suddenly noticing the same model everywhere, once The Odyssey was on my mind, I seemed to encounter it at every turn.

Curious, I pulled the book from the shelf. I initially picked it up because of the story. Yet, as often happens when exploring historical children’s books, I soon found myself just as interested in the people hidden inside.

Like many people, I encountered The Odyssey through references, retellings, and popular culture long before I ever considered reading Homer himself. The Odyssey is a story about an epic journey. Odysseus struggles to find his way home, but the story itself has also been on a remarkable journey. For nearly three thousand years it has traveled across generations, languages, formats, and audiences. This 1923 edition, The Odyssey for Boys and Girls, represents one stop along that path, introducing an ancient hero to young readers who were beginning their own journeys.

As I opened the book, I didn’t expect the dedication to be the following:

Long before online reviews, social media, and star ratings, there was a five-year-old named Maisie whose opinion mattered enough to earn a dedication, which sparked my interest in the edition. It wasn’t just another adaptation. It came alive. Who was Maisie? How did her suggestions shape the story? What captured her imagination? Was she being read The Odyssey at age five?

The inscription reminded me of a phrase we still use today: “Explain it to me like I’m five.” Despite its humorous use, the phrase reflects something important. We are not asking for an idea to be made less significant. We are asking for it to be made accessible. In many ways, The Odyssey for Boys and Girls serves exactly that purpose. It does not attempt to replace Homer. Rather, it offers readers a place to begin. Every lifelong reader starts somewhere, and children’s adaptations often serve as the bridge between curiosity and confidence.

The Odyssey for Boys and Girls does not contain any illustrations of Odysseus, the Cyclops, the Sirens, or the storm-tossed seas. A child opening this book in the 1920s would be expected to create those images independently. That absence feels significant because it marks a transition many readers’ experience. Picture books invite us to look at a story. Chapter books ask us to imagine one. Somewhere between those stages, readers discover that words alone can create entire worlds.

Perhaps that is why I found myself thinking about Maisie who influenced The Odyssey for Boys and Girls. Was this one of the books that encouraged the transition from looking at stories to imagining them?

Often discussions about modern adaptations of classical texts focus on changes made. Yet I found myself asking a different question: Who might discover the story because of this adaptation? Children’s adaptations such as The Odyssey for Boys and Girls have been answering that question for generations. They are not replacements for the original work. They are invitations. Every lifelong reader starts somewhere. For nearly three thousand years, readers have continued finding meaning in Homer’s tale, a story explored in literary and historical contexts.

As I continued exploring The Odyssey for Boys and Girls, I found a bookplate (“from the books of”) with the handwritten name Meredith Belt.

There are a only few of us Merediths out there. Growing up, I was typically the only Meredith around. When you spend most of your life as the only Meredith in the room, seeing or hearing your name tends to feel personal. Encountering another Meredith has always felt unusual. Discovering one in a century-old children’s book felt even more so. Seeing their name transformed the book into an artifact with a personal connection. The owner was no longer an anonymous child from the past. I began imagining another Meredith, who claimed ownership one hundred years ago.

My understanding is that Meredith began as a masculine Welsh name before becoming more commonly associated with girls, which raises another question. Was Meredith Belt a girl or a boy? The inscription offers no clues and keeps its secret. Moreover, who was Meredith Belt? Was the book a gift to them? Did someone read it aloud to Meredith, or did they read it independently? The questions are impossible to answer.

For librarians and special collections staff, the history of a book’s ownership and use is known as provenance. Not every inscription makes a book historically significant, and not every marked book belongs in a special collection. In collections focused on children’s literature, however, traces left behind by readers can add valuable context. They help us understand not only what children read, but also how books moved through families, schools, and communities. A name inside a cover transforms a book from simply a text into evidence of a reader. Books were gifts, companions, bedtime rituals, and treasured possessions. Preserving them allows us to preserve not only stories, but evidence of how those stories were experienced. For me, Meredith Belt’s inscription is a reminder that every old book was once new to someone. Long before it arrived in our collection, this belonged to a child who turned its pages, imagined its adventures, and cared enough to claim ownership.

In working on this post, I discovered that Odysseus was not the only one on a journey.

There was Maisie, the five-year-old “first critic.” There was Meredith Belt, a child reader whose name remains inside the cover. There was the story itself, traveling across centuries and finding new audiences through adaptations, retellings, and children’s editions. And there was my own journey, which began with curiosity about a modern adaptation and led me to a century-old book.

The many questions raised about Meredith Belt’s inscription and Maisie, the first critic, will never be answered. One Meredith left behind a name. Another Meredith found it. For a moment, the distance between a child reader in the 1920s and a librarian one hundred years later felt surprisingly small.

Perhaps that is its own kind of legacy. Odysseus sailed across the wine-dark sea in search of home. His story has traveled even further, crossing centuries, languages, and generations of readers. This book has made a remarkable journey of its own. Meredith Belt could never have imagined that more than a century later, someone would still be speaking their name.

We rarely know which traces of our lives will endure. A favorite book. A handwritten inscription. Notes tucked inside. A name carefully written inside a cover. Yet sometimes those small remnants become a bridge between strangers separated by generations. Perhaps that is the quiet magic of old books. They remind us that we are all, in one way or another, leaving pieces of ourselves behind. And when those pieces are found, we are remembered.

Somewhere between ancient seas and a library shelf, a child’s name continues its journey across time.

Here are some additional copies of The Odyessy in Spencer’s holdings:

• Homeri Odysseae libri VIII. Francisco Florido Sabine interprete [Homer’s Odyssey, Books 1-8, translated into Latin by Francisco Florido], 1545 (Call Number: Summerfield C236).
• The Odyessy of Homer, translated into English by Alexander Pope, 1725 (Call Number: D711).
• Tes tou Homerou Odysseias, in ancient Greek, 1758 (Call Number: G50).
• The Odyssey of Homer, translated into English by Alexander Pope, 1811 (Call Number: A586).
• The Odyssey of Homer, translated into English by Alexander Pope, 1817 (Call Number: C22294).
• The Odyessy of Homer, translated into English by Alexander Pope, with an introduction by Carl Van Doren, 1931 (Call Number: E3157).
• The Odyssey of Homer, translated into English by T. E. Lawrence, 1932 (Call Number: D440).
• The Odyssey of Homer: Newly Translated into English Prose by T. E. Shaw [T. E. Lawrence], 1933 (Call Number: C17090).

Meredith Phares
Operations Manager