Morocco — goatskin, tanned with sumac and grained by hand — has bound the finest books for four centuries because it is supple, close-grained and remarkably tough. Left in a stable room it will outlive its owner by generations. The damage a binding suffers is almost always inflicted, not endured.
The enemies are three
Heat, dry air, and light, in that order. A binding kept above a radiator or in direct sun will desiccate until the leather powders at the joints — the condition binders call red rot, and it is nearly irreversible. Aim for a cool room, moderate humidity, and shelves away from the window. A book is happiest in the conditions a cellar-cool library provides.
On oils and dressings
Here is the hardest counsel to give a caring owner: in most cases, do nothing. The Victorian habit of dressing leather with oils — neatsfoot, lanolin, the proprietary creams — is now understood to do more harm than good, darkening the skin, migrating into the paper, and leaving a tacky film that attracts grime. A modern conservator dresses a binding rarely, sparingly, and only with a tested microcrystalline preparation, if at all.
Handling and shelving
Shelve upright, never leaning, and never so tightly packed that a spine must be pulled by its headcap to be freed — that single habit accounts for most torn spines. Large folios lie flat. Handle with clean, dry hands; cotton gloves reduce grip and cause more accidents than they prevent. Support the boards fully when opening, and never force a text-block flat.
When to call the binder
A loosening joint, a lifting corner, a headcap beginning to fray — these are the moments to consult a conservator, not the glue drawer. A binding is a structure, and an amateur repair almost always complicates the professional one that must eventually follow. Caught early, most faults are an afternoon’s work at the bench. Left to run, they become the loss of an object that cannot be replaced.
