I’m not big on making universal statements of truth, but I’m about to do it anyway. The thought of human flesh being used for anything other than covering human insides is extremely unsettling. You might only know of the practice as a horror movie trope used by films like Silence of the Lambs and Midsommar to frighten thrill-seeking audiences. Maybe you’ve encountered it being used comedically during stand-up performances and TV shows like The Office. But the practice isn’t just a fictional trope, and, if you’re a Harvard affiliate, you’re not as far removed from it as you would like to be.
Houghton Library is home to Harvard’s collection of rare books and manuscripts. One of the many books housed at the library is a 19th century example of anthropodermic bibliopegy: the practice of using human skin to bind books. Des destinées de l’ame is a book about the human soul written by the French author Arsène Houssaye. Houssaye wasn’t the one who bound the book, but he did gift it to the man responsible. Dr. Ludovic Bouland, according to a Houghton Library blog post, was, “a noted medical doctor and prominent bibliophile.” He was also a man with an interest in the macabre, an interest which critics say entered the realm of the fetishistic. In the book, Boland left a note detailing his reasoning behind his decision to cover the book in human skin, writing, “A book about the human soul deserved to have a human covering: I had kept this piece of human skin from the back of a woman.” That woman, according to the blog post, was a “mental patient who had died of a stroke.” Bouland went on to write that he enjoyed comparing the appearance of this book to another anthropodermic book which he tanned with sumac: Sever. Pinaeus de Virginitatis notis, a book about virginity. According to Houghton Library, the book collector John B. Stetson Jr. first brought Des destinées de l’ame to Harvard in 1934, and his wife officially donated the book to the University twenty years later.
While the story behind the book is interesting, Houghton Library has come under fire for keeping the book in its collection. The issue most critics have with the book is not necessarily that it is covered in human skin, but the means by which that skin was obtained. The Houghton Library blog post says that there have been instances of anthropodermic bibliopegy where individuals have requested to be memorialized “in the form of a book.” In the case of Des destinées de l’ame, however, the skin was almost certainly obtained without the consent of the deceased. After tests conducted in 2014 concluded that the cover was made of human flesh, Princeton librarian Dr. Paul Needham wrote an article condemning Houghton’s refusal to remove the skin from the book’s binding. In the article, Needham states that Bouland’s theft of the unknown woman’s flesh was a sort of exploitative power trip. “The skin of a male would not have fulfilled his psychosexual needs in the same way,” Needham writes. “Essentially, he carried out an act of post-mortem rape, and two volumes, in two libraries, are now its tangible witnesses.” He argues that the decent thing to do is to remove the human skin from the book and give the remains a proper burial.
Part of Needham’s problem with the situation was Houghton Library’s unwillingness to have an open discussion about the ethics of maintaining the book in its current form. When I reached out to Needham for further comment, he wrote, “The question of how to deal with so polluted an object should be discussed openly, including by people – and I am sure they can be found in the Harvard community – who will be advocates for the human being who was treated so disgracefully.” He also expressed his disappointment with Houghton Library’s handling of the situation, citing that the institution’s original blog post was offensive. That blog post has since been replaced.
The library’s decision to leave the human skin on the cover of the book is just one example of a wider phenomenon in archival and museum circles; namely, the act of displaying and, in some cases, profiting from unethically acquired materials. This problem is situated at the heart of calls to reconsider the ways in which the collection and preservation of such items reproduces exploitative systems and hierarchies of power. While it is impossible to go back and prevent past plundering and unethical collection of materials, it is vital to think about the ways the institutions around us participate in and sometimes perpetuate these harmful practices. So, yes, the idea of a book bound in human skin is disturbing. Even more disturbing, however, is the fact that the deceased individual whose remains have yet to be put to rest continues to be afforded less respect than the individuals who looted and traded the flesh from her body.
Dr. Paul Needham states that his opinions are his own and do not reflect the views of Princeton University.
Cade Williams ‘23 (cadewilliams@college.harvard.edu) writes Forum for the Independent.