Studying philosophy means, first and foremost, studying texts written by philosophers. It is tempting to take the existence and the transmitted form of a text for granted, and to focus on its concepts and arguments. Yet books have their fates, even before they reach their readers. Their final shape is affected by their genesis, growth, circulation and dissemination, and their initial reception in turn influences the way their authors evolve. In the case of Spinoza’s works, we have highly sophisticated and controversial treatises that survived only in print: no philosophical work of his came down to us in his own handwriting. (The Short Treatise, transmitted in a seventeenth-century apograph of a contemporary Dutch translation, was not printed until the 1860s.) Because Spinoza wrote in Latin, scholars handle his texts much in the way they treat classical authors: they bring out critical editions, translations in the vernacular and commentaries. Though this work is essential, we should also keep in mind that Spinoza was a decidedly modern thinker, too. He was abreast of scientific developments in the seventeenth century, crafted optical tools, had a select network of correspondents and contacts, and acquired international fame and notoriety for the novelty of his ideas – initially by word of mouth and through circulation of manuscripts, but (as from 1663) faster and on a much larger scale through printed books. In order to study the formation of his thought and its earliest reception, we must understand how his texts passed from manuscript into print, who were involved in that process (friends, scribes, editors, compositors, printers, translators, censors, enemies) and how the books found their way to an audience. Precisely because Spinoza was a highly controversial author, the publishing history of his books – banned but (by the same token) also much sought after – offers unexpected perspectives on the development and diffusion of his thought.
Jeroen van de Ven has been studying Spinoza’s life and works for over fifteen years. His research into the minutest details of the printing of Spinoza’s books started more than a decade ago; it has come into fruition in the present descriptive bibliography. It is a dazzling achievement. Van de Ven’s expertise includes research on manuscripts, early printing, archives, bibliographies, learned journals, and correspondence collections. Building upon the work of pioneers like Land, Gebhardt, Bamberger, Kingma, Offenberg, and Gerritsen, he here combines and multiplies the perspectives and methods of earlier bibliographical scholarship. In addition Van de Ven exploits the countless new possibilities opened up by online research. He thus brought to light the astounding number of 1,246 extant copies of early printed works of Spinoza all over the globe.
In his scholarly career, Jeroen van de Ven has always integrated the meticulousness of the bibliographer and archival researcher with a broad historian’s view. This book testifies to his distinctively individual research profile. It is bound to become an indispensible tool for Spinoza scholarship; no academic library can do without.
Piet Steenbakkers
8 May 2021