“It was awfully important for me to have, if it was on some material that was pretty cheap at the time... It’s true that I drained a lot of the material from the National Museum, I won’t deny that. But it wasn’t a really significant amount, I was afraid, it was unpleasant. And then when I found that it was possible to buy cardboard, linen, paper through various institutions, I wasn’t at all worried about getting hammered for misappropriating Socialist property any more. That was what I had been the most afraid of, I know that. [Q: So then you acquired the materials on the side somehow?] Not on the side. When we ordered linen and paper - the cardboard mainly - for the museum... not leather because that was exclusive to Binar... And he brought me sheep’s leather, which couldn’t be thinned out, it was terrible... I even think I still have one of those books at home somewhere. That he let me keep one because I hadn’t wanted anything for it. But I’m not sure, I’d have to ask my colleague, who also knew him, I think we even did that one together... So when we put in the order in through Ospapa and so on - because we did that, us from the workshop - so I always asked if they had some waste material or if I could order something for my own use. That was terrible important. They always said: A whole palette. And a palette can be a hundred and fifty sheets of cardboard - and you need ten, right. So you could always work something out with them. And I latched on to that real fast... because I didn’t want, if... although they could do anything, I guess, certainly. But I always wanted to have this settled for the sake of my own conscience. Cardboard cost some three crowns back then, it was pittance.”
“That was every time something happened in society, when they started arresting people or, contrarily, released someone from prison. There was a wave of anxiety - this is trouble, everyone be especially careful. So then I found out that the blade on the paper cutter has these little nicks and that whenever a book is cut - I know they asked me about it during one interrogation, if it was possible... So I thought ‘aha’, it’s clear that they’re starting to focus on who binds what... Because the nicks create a certain pattern of grooves on the cut. And those nicks were pretty obvious in my case! So then I said: Honza, there’s no doubt about it, it’s as if we put our stamp on it, we have to do something about it! So we set out in the night, we removed the blades from the cutter (in a completely nonsensical, but sensibly nonsensical way) and had them re-sharpened. You know, there are situations like that when you suddenly get afraid. It’s not the kind of fear like worrying for your own sake, but worrying about keeping it secret so you can keep on doing it.”
Jana Náprstková, née Chvátalová, was born on 1 July 1950 in Prague and grew up in the quarter of Žižkov. She trained as a bookbinder. In her youth she was influenced by the community around Literární noviny (Literary News), which she was introduced to through the first marriage of her sister Věra with Zdeněk Pinc. She joined the protests against the Soviet occupation in 1968 and was later active in the dissent. In 1970 she gave birth to her daughter Kateřina. Since 1973 the witness has been employed at the Library of the National Museum, in the Department of Manuscripts and Old Prints. During work she secretly bound large amounts of samizdat literature, especially via her friend Jan Vít. She bound books for the Kvart, Rukopisy VBF, and Delta series and for numerous independent copies. She bound non-fiction (Patočka, Pithart, Kroutvor ...), fiction (Vaculík, Hrabal, Kundera...), translations, and artistic publications. From the late 1970s she worked at the bookbinding workshop on the Gottwald Embankment (now Masaryk Embankment - Masarykovo nábrěží in Prague), which was famous for its freethinking atmosphere and which was visited by various prominent figures. She now works at the restoration workshop in the New Building of the National Museum. She is retiring in January but plans to remain active. She has her own bookbinding workshop at her home in Prague-Vinohrady, and besides books she also restores historical wallpapers.
Hrdinové 20. století odcházejí. Nesmíme zapomenout. Dokumentujeme a vyprávíme jejich příběhy. Záleží vám na odkazu minulých generací, na občanských postojích, demokracii a vzdělávání? Pomozte nám!
