From exploding the myth that Gutenberg's press was the world's first printing venture to clarifying the role books played in encouraging women to join the abolitionist movement and battling World War II, Smith's narrative aims to show how, when, and why books became so important. An interesting aside: Oxford Shakespeare scholar Smith took her title from Stephen King.

"All books are magic. All books have agency and power in the real world," writes Shakespeare scholar Smith (This Is Shakespeare) in this entertaining history. With a focus on "bookhood," which includes "the impact of touch, smell, and hearing, on the experience of books," Smith makes a colorful case that a book's form contains as much "magic" as its content. In a chapter on how a book becomes a classic, she points to Rachel Carson's Silent Spring. The paperback of Carson's environmental manifesto made it available to a wide audience--the 40th anniversary edition, published in a "handsome" hardcover Library of America volume, confirmed it as a classic designed to last. A section on the popularity of paperbacks details how they were sent to soldiers during wartime, and a chapter on book burnings points out that the act is "powerfully symbolic and practically almost entirely ineffectual," plus reveals that through the destruction of unsold inventory, publishers themselves are the largest destroyers of books. With wit and verve, Smith concludes that a book becomes a book "in the hands of its readers... a book that is not handled and read is not really a book at all." Readers should make space on their shelves for this dazzling and provocative study. (Nov.)

A critical look at trends in printing and book production as they relate to world history. Smith, a professor of Shakespeare studies at Oxford and author of This Is Shakespeare, begins by examining various motivations for the mass distribution of books. These have ranged from the nefarious desires of European powers to further their imperialist, colonial agendas and disseminate propaganda to the radical desires of abolitionist societies to spread anti-slavery messages to women--and raise money for abolitionist causes--through the distribution of abolitionist texts disguised as the predecessors of Christmas-themed women's literature. The development of the paperback, writes Smith, was directly related to the free distribution of Armed Services Editions to Americans serving abroad in the years during and after World War II. These cheaply stapled but durable books popularized such titles as The Great Gatsby, which, though now iconic, was not widely read before its inclusion in the Armed Services collection. This initiative led to printing methods that assured the affordability of texts like Silent Spring, and that book's widespread distribution helped spur the modern environmental movement. Smith also overturns common myths about literary history, most notably the idea that Gutenberg created the first printing press. "Chinese and Korean pioneers of print predated Gutenberg by centuries," writes the author, "and the relatively low cost of bamboo-fiber paper in East Asia meant that early print was a less elite technology in these regions. Chinese print technology developed movable type." The author's trenchant analysis, attention to detail, and conversational tone combine to make a page-turning historical study. At times, though, the rapid narrative pace becomes frustrating, as the author skips rapidly through trends--e.g., abolitionist book sales--that warrant more space. Nonetheless, Smith's work is a delight for bibliophiles, historians, and curious readers craving an unconventional piece of nonfiction. A fascinating material history of the book told through a geopolitical lens. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.