Mexico’s Earliest Books
By Ralph Graves
April 2007 Guadalajara-Lakeside Volume 23, Number 8

     Want to write a book? These days, it’s easy. The computer does all the work. Just pull up a word processing program and type away. You don’t even have to worry about spelling errors, much less printing or formatting text to make it attractive to read.
     For writers in ancient Mexico, things weren’t so simple. Imagine having to carve out your fast breaking news story in stone—character by character; or painstakingly painting that great novel on bark paper, using only symbols and pictographs. In spite of such difficulties, early Mexicans had a rich legacy of picture writing, producing books that dealt with a wide range of subject matter.
     As with other early cultures, writing in Mesoamerica evolved from crude symbols chiseled in stone to elaborately decorated books filled with hieroglyphic paintings. Probably the oldest true writing system in Mexico was uncovered only recently in the state of Veracruz. Archeologists discovered a large stone slab from the Olmec period which contained symbols carved in a specific order forming a coherent text. Succeeding civilizations also used stone pillars, plaques and tablets to record important events.
     The advent of paper, however, led to the birth of books. At first, dried animal skins were stretched, treated and painted. Later, the fibers of the maguey plant were flattened and dried to provide a writing surface. Both of these materials proved quite fragile, and deteriorated with age. Then came the use of certain tree barks which were treated, pounded flat and dried to form a parchment-like paper.
     This type of paper, called “amatl,” was used by the Mayans, Mixtecs, Toltecs and Aztec, among others, to produce bound books or codices. These were elaborately painted with inscriptions, characters and hieroglyphics. The typical codex consisted of one long strip of paper folded in accordion fashion so that two pages were visible at the same time. The covers were slabs of wood on which were painted symbols indicating the subject matter contained inside.
     Individual pages were laid out to be read from left to right, top to bottom, just as modern books. The actual writing or painting of the codices was done by professional scribes, called tlacules. Like other crafts, that of the scribe was hereditary, being passed down generation to generation, but unlike today’s artists and writers, the scribes were anonymous, never signing their work or taking credit for the artistry of their product.
     The production of codices was usually done at the behest, and under the supervision of priests and municipal officials. Thus, they dealt largely with religious subjects as well as compiling records of harvests, populations, tributes and other political matters. Some of the most important were devoted to astronomy, the interpretation of heavenly events and their effects on nature and agriculture. Other codices were kept in municipal libraries as geographical records, charting coastlines, rivers, boundaries, mountain ranges and locations of religious centers.
     These painted books are probably the single most important source of information about the lives, culture and beliefs of the ancient Mexicans. The most famous surviving Aztec codex, now called the Codex Borgia, is a description of the Aztec Calendar along with important deities and their attributes. The most notable surviving Mayan codices were written in a very different type of glyph that is still being decoded, but is thought to also relate to their religious beliefs.
     But of the thousands of pre-conquest codices that once existed, only a pitiful handful remain, and those are mostly scattered through Europe, where they were sent as souvenirs by Spanish invaders. So, what happened to all those ancient books? In three words—the Spanish Inquisition.
     Although Cortez’ army, together with native allies, destroyed many libraries as they burned and sacked towns and cities during the conquest, a systematic program of book burning was carried out by the first Spanish missionaries. The first Archbishop of Mexico, Juan de Zumarraga, burned a great number of codices in the valley of Mexico that he considered “demonstrations of superstitious idolatry.” Another bishop, stationed in the Yucatan, reported, “We found a large number of books of these characters, and as they contained nothing but superstition and lies of the devil, we burned them all.”
     However, the Holy Office of the Inquisition is thought to be responsible for a majority of the codices’ destruction, and these were largely un-recorded. Many were also probably destroyed or discarded by natives who, if caught with books, could have been burned at the stake.
     Later, in the mid to late 1500s, there were religious and secular historians in Mexico who regretted the mass destruction of codices and attempted to have some of them re-created by the natives. Also, Philip II of Spain had ordered all civil authorities of his empire to make an accounting of their regions and record items such as economic matters as well as geography, political organizations, local arts, crafts and customs both before and after the conquest.
     This led to the re-creation and interpretation of earlier codices and their transcription into Spanish. Many of these latter codices still exist and provide modern scholars with keys to the translation of earlier works.
     And while most of the pre-Columbian codices have disappeared, the art of picture writing on bark paper has not. This paper, now called amate, is still used by craftsmen in the states of Puebla, Oaxaca and Guererro to paint colorful images of animals, birds and landscapes. Such paintings can be seen in local tianguis as well as shops dedicated to handicrafts. Some have been exhibited in art museums as far away as Chicago.
     So, while the craft of the codex has given way to the printing press and the computer, part of the tradition survives. The ancient tlacules would be proud.