Indiana's Bookman

Old campus hands muttered into their martinis at Indiana University faculty parties when David Randall was hired three years ago as a full professor. The new rare-book librarian had never taught a course in his life, had no Ph.D. (his only academic degree was an A.B. from Lehigh), and had proclaimed: "I don't know a thing about the Dewey decimal system, and I'm not going to learn. I've got a staff to do that." What is worse--although Randall is still confident that no one suspects--is that the key he wore and still wears was not issued by Phi Beta Kappa, but by Kappa Beta Phi, a whimsical outfit that honored the unscholarly achievements of gay Lehigh blades (Randall is a Phi Bete all right, but he has misplaced his key).

The happenstance that gave Indiana its unacademic professor was drug-manufacturing Millionaire Josiah Kirby Lilly Jr.'s decision to give his huge rare-book collection--20,000 first editions, thousands of manuscripts--to the university (TIME, Jan. 23, 1956). The single gift made Indiana an important rare-book center, and the school needed a curator. Lilly recommended Randall, whose 20 years as head of Scribner's rare-book department had made him one of the U.S.'s most knowledgeable authorities--and fastest-moving speculators--in an intense, inbred field. The dealer was hired, and with the backing of Indiana's President Herman Wells (whom Randall was breezily calling "Herman" within three weeks after he arrived), he began busily buying books to flesh out the Lilly collection.

Almost the Best. Last week, by his own exuberant calculation, Librarian Randall had "the finest collection of rare books between the coasts. It isn't as good as the Houghton Library at Harvard, and it's not as good as the Yale collection. We come right after Yale." Says Yale's Rare Book Curator Herman W. Liebert of Randall's library: "First rank--one of the outstanding in the nation."

The acquisition that did much to justify Randall's enthusiasm: the extensive book and manuscript collection of Chicago Printer George Poole. Prize of the Poole library is a Gutenberg Bible that, at the time of the sale, was one of three still in private hands. Randall knew the book well; he was the dealer who sold it to Bibliophile Poole six years ago. When he heard that the collection was to be sold, Randall hurriedly took an option, needed only 15 minutes to persuade President Wells to put up the money (the university will not say how much).

Important as Test Tubes. Waving happily toward the $1,500,000 Lilly Rare Book Library now being built at Indiana, Randall says: "Imagine putting up a building like that and not having a Gutenberg Bible to stick in it." But the spacious new library will be more than a shrine for ancient bits of paper and vellum. Thus far, Indiana's rare books have been useless to all but the few high-ranking scholars who could be allowed access to them. Best feature of the new library: professors, graduate students and undergraduates will be able to use everything in Randall's collection, including the Gutenberg Bible. Says Randall's coworker, Associate Director of Libraries Cecil Byrd: "These rare books are as much a part of academic equipment as test tubes and Bunsen burners."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.