| Review of: Roberto,
K. R. (2008) Radical Cataloging. Essays at the Front. McFarland
& Co Inc, 303 pp., $ 45,00, ISBN-10: 0786435437

by Lacey Prpic Hedtke (info)
Just when you thought catalogers had been relegated
to the back rooms for good, they’ve come out in droves with
35 essays ranging from Library of Congress Subject Headings (a hot
topic), folk art terminology, zines and Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transgender
(GLBT) visibility in catalogs. This new book from McFarland is a
collection of anecdotes, words to the wise and criticisms from catalogers
on the front lines.
This is the rabble-rousers’ introduction to
cataloging. Those who “revel in the secret handshake of the
MARC fraternity” (Smith in his essay) will read with an experienced
nod, but those who aren’t catalogers, or even librarians for
that matter, will enjoy most of the essays in this 303-page book.
Roberto first started using the term “radical
cataloging” around 2002. The term fits into the broader category
of “radical librarianship”, a tradition that’s
been around for decades, referring to progressive, radical, and
socially responsible library work, attitude, and outreach. There’s
much discussion throughout the book on what role cataloging plays
in the greater scheme of things and what a radical cataloger is.
In the Preface, Roberto details the behaviors and traits of a radical
cataloger. They include: “Being user-focused with regard to
your library’s users. […] Skepticism about the quality
of readily available bibliographic records. […] Appreciating
traditional cataloging models while examining ways to integrate
new and useful ideas into this framework without abandoning what
already works. […] Feeling passionate about cataloging and
its benefits.”
Cataloging has been under attack in the past few years,
and many essays touch on this. A main focus of concern is Karen
Calhoun’s 2006 report for the Library of Congress questioning
the value of library catalogs and the catalogers maintaining them.
Unarguably, cataloging is expensive, and the question has been raised
if that expense is justifiable. Weinberg details in her essay, “Cataloging
in Non-Roman Scripts”, that in the United States, cataloging
in non-Roman scripts is considered a radical cataloging practice.
Some of Sanford Berman’s “radical and progressive”
ideas of thirty+ years ago are now considered standards. This book
examines what is considered radical cataloging, and more broadly,
librarianship, and spends time focusing on traditional biases in
the traditional catalog.
The purpose of this anthology as stated in the Preface
is as follows: “[…] to serve as a tool for catalogers
and cataloging advocates.” It is broken into three sections:
Cataloging in Context, with historical overviews, and personal and
theory-heavy essays. The second, We Criticize Because We Care, concentrates
on criticisms of contemporary cataloging (including a scathing review
of OCLC and the predictable grumblings about Library of Congress
Subject Headings). The final section, Innovative Practices introduces
readers to new projects to increase the use of catalogs, including
pieces on teaching radical cataloging, cataloging zines, and tagging
and other forms of folksonomies.
Some themes that continue to emerge throughout the
book are issues with and advantages of Web 2.0 techniques in and
around the catalog, how to sufficiently represent minors, whether
they be race, sexual identity, or gender, and of course, the inadequacies
and blatant biases and tiltings of cataloging mega-forces like OCLC
and the Library of Congress. The most hilarious (and my favorite)
essay is Christopher H. Walker’s “Rearranging the Deck
Chairs on the Titanic: A Drowning Cataloger’s Call to Stop
Churning the Subject Headings”. Written in a chatty conversational
tone, Walker approaches a subject so well-worn it seemed predictable
and surprises with a commentary on social change and progress through
LC’s eyes.
Jenna Freedman’s essay, “AACR2-Bendable
but Not Flexible: Cataloging Zines at Barnard College” details
the mysterious world of zine cataloging. Brian Hasenstab takes us
on “A Highly Selective, Slightly Irreverent Trip Down Radical
Cataloging Literature Lane”- the subtitle of his collection
of mini book reviews, in “This Subfield Kills Fascists.”
A title like that doesn’t come along everyday. Jeffery Beall’s
review of OCLC leaves no stones unturned in exposing it as a money
and power-mongering multinational corporation lurking in our catalog’s
backyards. And of course, many authors throughout mentioned Sanford
Berman.
In a way, Sanford Berman laid the foundation for radical
cataloging. Without having a name for it, he single-handedly led
a crusade against the Library of Congress and their questionable
headings, created a new subject authority file that he implemented
at Hennepin County Library during his influential time there, and
many of which the LC finally incorporated. He has long promoted
alternative viewpoints in librarianship. This book, and review of
it, would be incomplete without recognizing the immense impact he
has had on the subfield of radical cataloging. His ideas that were
considered revolutionary have now become commonplace library procedures.
The Library of Congress Subject Headings (LCSH) that
Sanford Berman has railed against for so long continue to be criticized
throughout the book. He called the headings “chauvinistic”;
others call them biased, racist, sexist, and unjust. “A Hidden
History of Queer Subject Access” delves into the topic surrounding
access to GLBT materials, and their bibliocide due to the lack of
adequate headings. Tatiana de la Tierra expands on this theme with
“Latina Lesbian Subject Headings: The Power of Naming”.
She points out that: “Library of Congress subject headings
do not name the complete gamut of sexual expressions”, and
that “Subject headings carry a lot of weight. The […]
wrong [subject headings], or none at all, can cut off access...”
Although LCSH is the largest subject thesaurus in the universe,
their progress is continuously pointed out as being pathetic and
antiquated. Christopher H. Walker brings the reader through a brief
history of the modern era by way of LCSH; which headings are passed
that should have been a long time ago, which we now has no need
for, and which are reflective of a larger view of society. Love
them or hate them, LCSH get a lot of attention in Radical Cataloging.
Another topic with almost equal attention paid is the topic of tagging,
and ultimately, Library 2.0. Several essayists fret about Amazon.com’s
encroaching success in user searching, review functions and suggesting
similar titles, a capitalist approach to reader’s advisory
services. Tagging is wildly popular in user-driven programs like
Flickr, LibraryThing, and del.icio.us. Again and again, the argument
is made that libraries must keep up with these developments and
innovations, or run the risk of losing users’ to The Google
Empire. Cataloging has come out of hiding in mysterious back rooms
and into every social networking site user’s hands. LibraryThing
catalogers are connected to the Library of Congress or Amazon.com
by default when cataloging personal collections.
LibraryThing developers seem to place equal value
on these two organization’s cataloging records. What message
is this sending to users? Will catalogers be replaced by the tagging
masses? Will users be drawn in by the layperson terminology of tagging,
foregoing the often archaic language of more traditional cataloging
tools like LCSH? In “Ubiquitous Cataloging”, Bradley
Dilger and William Thompson take on these questions in a wildly
informative essay. They reveal that LibraryThing’s author
and title “clouds” show that J.K. Rowling and J.R.R.
Tolkien are the most heavily collected authors on the site. Tools
like tag clouds could be used in libraries to connect users with
information never exposed before - and could change collection development,
if it becomes obvious that patrons want popular fiction rather than
the canon. The authors suggest a “more participatory catalog
[...] [that] would situate this debate between readers themselves,
via the catalog (in user groups, for example).” They excitedly
imply that allowing users to add tags to a library catalog could
make cataloging a more open-ended process, with end results beyond
any professional cataloger’s wildest imagination. New connections
could be made that never were explored before. Maybe catalogers
would even accept user-suggested tags into their bibliographic records
and their hearts. Sites like del.icio.us suggest tags that other
users have used for our bookmarked websites. Finally, Dilger and
Thompson concede that tagging does have its critics: ”While
tagging and its much ballyhooed companion ‘folksonomy’
(classification by amateurs, as opposed to ‘taxonomy’
created by experts) aren’t going to automatically revolutionize
the art and craft of cataloging, they remain valuable tools for
reaching the larger goals we’ve set out as cataloging moves
toward ubiquity.”
With taggers breaking away from the constraints of
LCSH, many of which didn’t know those chains were there to
break free from, the concept of what and who warrants an official
cataloger is blurry. Tagging’s main function is providing
a pathway for easy access to information, so is traditional cataloging.
Taggers base their tags off of the work’s content; catalogers
have been working from the “work in hand”. Where will
the two meet and who will be there to facilitate this merger?
An underlying theme of the book is librarian
as activist. Librarian as advocate for a cause they feel strongly
about, consider themselves experts on, or have been affected by
directly. Whether it be GLBT issues, Native American names in catalogs,
or the treatment of religious sects, this anthology embodies the
idea of not only a “radical cataloger”, but a “radical
librarian”. Without which the field will be lost to corporations
like OCLC, Amazon.com and Google. And without which the world, and
our bibliographic records, will be a much more boring place.
Radical Cataloging is strongly recommended for anyone curious about,
invested in, or bored by cataloging. Almost all of the essays bring
a new light on the broad topic. Only a few essays are extraordinarily
dense or academic; most are entertaining, informative and most of
all, radical in thought. A daring ideology all libraries need more
of.
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