At a recent mystery writer’s conference, a panelist discussed book cover colors and mentioned that green had been considered a color that didn’t sell. Some even called the color “toxic.” Yet, when I searched “Green Cover Books,” quite a few recent novels popped up, indicating a shift in how publishers view this possibly poisonous pigment. During the Victorian era, Scheele’s green and emerald green book covers were all the rage but fell out of favor in the late 1800s. Copper arsenite and copper acetoarsenite were responsible for the vibrant greens until several countries banned the sale of arsenic-colored pigments because of their toxic effects.
In the 1800s, leather-bound covers were expensive to produce compared to cotton cloth covers. Unlike leather, cotton cloth was abundant, relatively inexpensive, yet not as sturdy. To make the bookcloth stronger, it was impregnated with a starchy wheat paste that also made the cover water-resistant. The layering of this paste over the cloth was called “sizing.” Green was a fashionable color in the mid to late 19th century. To achieve the emerald green bookcloth, copper and arsenic were added to the paste before it was applied to the cloth. The concentration of arsenic added is unknown, but it was sufficient to cause illness, given the reports of individuals with skin lesions after handling the books. Wallpaper and even clothing were dyed with arsenical compounds. Henry Carr’s book, Our Domestic Poisons, or, the Poisonous Effects of Certain Dyes & Colours Used in Domestic Fabrics, 1879, clearly lays out the problem in his pamphlet and includes cases of people poisoned wearing green gloves or green socks, and children ailing from the green wallpaper hung in their nursery. Manufacturers knew the heavy metal was toxic and yet continued to make products impregnated with arsenic. Carr begins, “It is an unquestionable fact that national health is suffering from the use of arsenic and other poisons, in the manufacture of domestic fabrics, to an extent little appreciated by the public,…” And yet, the practice continued. I envision those working in this paper or textile industry as being analogous to those working in the felting industry making hats using mercury. See my blog, March Madness: Maybe it’s the Hat.
Arsenic compounds are still used as a wood preservative (utility poles) and prior to 2003, were used in lumber sold for decks, fencing, and play structures. Wood with a greenish hue is indicative of arsenic-treated lumber. Imagine the toxic exposure to carpenters who sawed and sanded treated wood as they built decks. Most arsenic herbicides and pesticides have been phased out, but residual arsenic can contaminate artesian well water from industrial sources or from natural geologic deposits.
Acute arsenic poisoning after ingestion produces hemorrhagic gastroenteritis (a bleeding gut), resulting in nausea, vomiting, and abdominal pain. Severe gastroenteritis causes fluid loss, which then produces hypotension (low blood pressure) and tachycardia (elevated heart rate), followed by shock and death. If the patient survives, hematological (blood) and dermatologic (skin) effects become apparent weeks to months later. Transverse white lines appear in the nails (Mees lines), and the palms of the hands and soles of the feet exhibit a diffuse rash—hyperkeratosis—sometimes called “dew drops on a dusty road.”
Chronic intoxication includes some of the same symptoms described above (gastroenteritis), but skin lesions, particularly hyperkeratosis and Mees lines, are more likely.
In 2019, Melissa Tedone from the Winterthur Museum and Garden and Library in Delaware started The Poison Book Project to identify Victorian-era publishers’ bindings. The project has identified over 300 arsenical green books, has a database with affected titles, and offers safe tips for handling books covered in the 19th century green cloth bindings (e.g., avoid handling with bare hands, isolate books for storage as the friable pigment can come off yielding arsenic dust). For more information, see Home | Poison Book Project (udel.edu)
So, there may have been a very good reason why publishers steered clear of green book covers until recently. “Poison on the book stand” could have literally meant a book covered in 19th century arsenical "emerald green" bookcloth or the next Dr. Lily Robinson title.
Book Photo from the Winterthur Library