Publishers Swear Off Acidic Paper

Dozens of publishers and authors gathered at the New York Public Library yesterday to call attention to a villain turning millions of books to dust: acidic paper.

They signed a statement vowing to use only acid-free paper, if available, ''for all first printings of quality hardcover trade books in order to preserve the printed word and safeguard our cultural heritage for future generations.''

Acidic paper, in use since the mid-19th century, turns brown and brittle in a few decades. More paper mills are producing acid-free or alkaline paper, and leaders of the acid-free crusade hope to increase the supply by increasing the demand from publishers and authors who refuse to print or be printed on any other kind. #35 Miles of Shelves Becoming Dust The consequences of inaction are grim, they say. The New York library alone has 2.5 million disintegrating books - 35 miles of shelves of them - and is spending more than $3 million this year to preserve or microfilm as many as possible.

''I never thought that when I came to the New York Public Library that I would be involved in book triage - determining which books shall live and which shall perish,'' said Dr. Vartan Gregorian, the library's soon-to-depart president.

''You are here as fellow champions of the cause of acid-free paper, which lasts 200 years - some say even 300 years - instead of self-destructing in 30,'' he said.

Proponents of acid-free paper say that it costs no more to make - and sometimes less - than acidic paper, and that the only real expense is in switching processes. The library said that 25 percent of the printing paper produced in 1988 was acid-free, and that amount should double by next year.

The declaration, printed, of course, on alkaline paper, was signed by about 45 authors, including Tom Wolfe, Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Jill Krementz, Norman Mailer, Barbara Goldsmith, Fran Lebowitz, Nora Ephron, Alfred Kazin, A. R. Gurney Jr., Irving Howe and Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr., and by 35 publishers, including Random House, Simon & Schuster, Harper & Row, McGraw-Hill, Doubleday, Macmillan and Grove Press.

John Baker, chief preservation librarian, held aloft a vivid demonstration: a 1925 biography of the composer Palestrina, discolored and falling apart, and a 1482 volume on Euclid's geometry, its pages white, strong and flexible.

In an interview, he traced the start of the problem to the 1850's, when the demands of growing literacy drained supplies of cotton-rag and linen-rag paper, and a way to make paper out of wood pulp was developed.

Lignin in the wood pulp oxidizes and turns brown, he said, and alum-rosin sizing, a chemical added to keep ink from feathering, also discolors the paper. Over time, the alum combines with sulfur dioxide in the atmosphere, making the problem worse.

''It was not generally known to American librarians that the paper was deteriorating fairly rapidly,'' he said, until they were alerted in the 1950's by William J. Barrow, a self-trained archivist.

By 1960, he said, Mr. Barrow had helped create a wood-pulp process using alkaline chemicals.

The author Barbara Goldsmith, a library trustee who is credited with spearheading the acid-free crusade in the publishing world, dates her interest to a decade ago, when she was doing library research for her book ''Little Gloria . . . Happy at Last.'' Materials printed before 1850 were often in good condition, she realized, while those printed later sometimes crumbled under her fingertips.

About three years ago, she said, she called 20 fellow authors and not one knew about the problem. She called publishers who either said they didn't care or wanted proof acid-free paper was comparable in cost.

''So we did three cost studies, the last with their own buyers,'' she said. ''That was the breakthrough study.''