Medical Rare Books & Archival Materials from WUSM

Who doesn’t love a good flap anatomy? Scientific printed books with interactive components date from the Renaissance onward, and this example - Joseph Achille Comte’s Physiologie pour les colléges et les gens du monde - was published in 1837.

It can be difficult to drag yourself out of bed on Monday mornings, but we imagine that this poor gentleman would like nothing more than to get up and get going! Believe it or not, this illustration from a 1666 edition of Johannes Scultetus’s Armamentarium Chirurgicum Bipartitum  isn’t meant to depict a form of torture. Instead, it shows a method for treating dislocations of the joint - although given that man’s expression, maybe it’s a fine line between the two?

Can anyone help us interpret any of the other symbolism?

Happy Mythology Monday! We’ve noted before how astrology, metallurgy (and by extension, alchemy), and classical mythology were often closely connected during the early modern period. These woodcuts, from Johannes ab Indagine’s Introductiones apolesmaticae in physiognomiam, astrologiam naturalem, complexiones hominum, naturas planetarum, are another example of this. From the top, we have personifications of the Moon, the Sun, Jupiter, Mars, Saturn, Venus, and Mercury, and each one is accompanied by their corresponding alchemical symbol. If you look at the chariot wheels, you’ll notice that they contain various Zodiac signs. Which one are you?

Brains are zombies’ delicacy of choice, and this woodcut from Antonius Novarinus’s Anatomia Curiosa  looks like a feast! Novarinus’s text dates from 1681, but most of its illustrations are modeled from examples that appeared in earlier anatomical texts. For example, this image is clearly inspired by Johannes Dryander’s Anatomiae capiti humani, which was first published in 1536. Look here to see what we mean.

The hand-colored illustrations from early to mid-19th century medical texts are some of the most striking images in our collections. This example comes from Sir William Adams’s A Treatise on Artificial Pupil, printed in 1819 in London, and shows how to make an artificial pupil by excising part of the iris. 

We found the top example in the Kleine Wundartzney des Lanfranci, a 1528 German edition of the Italian surgeon Lanfranco of Milan’s writings, and the bottom example comes from Johann Wolff’s Lectionum memorabilium et reconditarum. We have to admit that we’re partial to the top manicules - they’re very elegant and graceful!

We’re also rather taken with the inscription. That handwriting is quite impressive!

Happy Title Page Thursday! This example introduces a 1757 edition of the Swiss anatomist and naturalist Albrecht von Haller’s Elementa Physiologiae Corporis Humani, a work of physiology and anatomy. While the book doesn’t have a full-page elaborate frontispiece, it does feature this thematically appropriate title engraving of two tiny cherubs showing off their anatomical drawings in front of what appears to be a rather unfortunate ungulate. 

This frontispiece uses symbolic imagery to represent the language of gestures. In the center, we see a hand with a face in its palm—somewhat strange, but indicative of the hand’s ability to speak. Water pours from the face’s mouth into the so-called “Cisterna Chirosophiae:” The Cistern of Chirosophy. It is flanked by two allegorical figures. The one on the left represents Nature, with her customary many breasts, and in this case she is explicitly identified as “Natura Loquens,” or the Natural Speech. The figure to the right is Polyhymnia, the Greek muse whose domain includes eloquence and pantomime. Below them are various hand gestures and their meanings, including eloquence, logic, and science.

For this Woodcut Wednesday, we’re turning to a 1510 edition of the Canon of Avicenna, one of the most important medical texts of the medieval and early modern periods. This particular copy was printed in Pavia, Italy by Jacob de Burgofranco. The woodcut on the title page portrays the three great giants of 16th century medicine: the Roman physician Galen is on the left, the Arabic physician Avicenna is in the center, and the Greek physician Hippocrates is on the right.

For last week’s Frontispiece Friday, we showed you the frontispiece from one of Steven Blankart’s anatomical texts (check it out here). This week, we’re offering up another Blankart frontispiece, this one from the Anatomia Reformata, published in 1687. While both of them feature Blankart presiding over the dissection of a cadaver, there are some notable differences between the two. The spectators in last week’s frontispiece were mostly dressed in garb reminiscent of classical Greece and Rome, but here everyone wears clothing typical of the 17th century Netherlands. This image also contains fewer allegorical flourishes and is much less detailed overall. We admit that we prefer the more elaborate frontispiece, but perhaps you feel differently!

Sanguine, choleric, phlegmatic, and melancholic are the four temperaments, which were determined by everyone’s personal balance of the four bodily humors: blood, choler, phlegm, and black bile. Astrology and medicine were closely connected during the medieval and early modern periods, and physicians believed that the temperaments could be influenced by and had certain affinities with the astrological signs. These four diagrams show which signs corresponded to which of the four temperaments. Which one are you?

We’re closing out this week with Frontispiece Friday. This is a classic example of an anatomical frontispiece using the early modern convention of portraying an anatomist in the midst of performing a dissection with his own hands. In this case, the anatomist in question is Steven Blankart, who is accompanied by a number of figures in classical dress. The woman directly behind him is probably Hygeia, one of the daughters of Asclepius, who carries the staff associated with her father. A statue of Asclepius himself is behind her, accompanied by the rooster that was traditionally seen as payment for his services. As for the other figures, the one leaning forward might be Galen or Hippocrates, and the gentleman wearing a turban might be Avicenna?

While it is always a good idea to keep your kitchen clean, you might have been a bit more conscientious than usual over the past several months. On this Throwback Thursday, we’re bringing you this 1944 advertisement from the popular health magazine Hygeia for Mikroklene, a disinfectant than can leave your cutlery “germicidally clean.” It sounds rather intense!

Happy Woodcut Wednesday! This week we’re focusing on the mandrake, a plant that is often associated with occult preparations. One of the most well-known folktales regarding the mandrake is that the root is shaped like a human and that it cries out once you pluck it from the ground. But did you know that there are also supposedly male and female mandrakes? These images from our evergreen favorite herbal, the New Kreüterbuch of Pietro Mattioli, show the female mandrake (top) and the male mandrake (bottom).