Older reviews of academic books used to refer to the Bibliography and Indices as "end matter." The cursory reference to end matter was usually after the contents are described, the overall thesis of the book reviewed, then evaluated for cogency of argument, lucidity of writing, and contribution to knowledge in the subject field. More often than not, the end matter only merited a sentence of commendation for thoroughness, and perhaps usefulness.
Then came the great dilemma for publishers, whether there should be footnotes or endnotes. Footnotes are far more convenient for the reader and expensive for the publisher; endnotes are cheaper for the publisher and hard work for the reader. Being able to glance down the page for a reference is convenient, quick and doesn't break the flow of thought; but having to go to the back, find the relevant page, then the footnote whose number you may have to check again, read said footnote, and then back to the main text – you can see why readers don't like them.
However. For those who spend a lot of their lives within the literary worlds of scholarship, there is more to be said about 'the end matter', not least, that end matter matters.
Let's start with indices. An index compiled by a computer is about as useful as spreading out a packet of cornflakes and arranging them according to shape, size and tone of yellow.
Take for example the first edition of the massive and learned biography of John Henry Newman, by Ian Ker. The index is huge, the entries often in their hundreds, and you are left with no guidance as to whether the page reference merely uses the word, or has a meaningful discussion of the topic in question. Some entries take up more than a column of figures representing hundreds of references. Mercifully in the second edition the Index is made much more serviceable; perhaps in the intervening years computer programmes have become more subtle and flexible in selecting relevant data.
But an index compiled by a writer who has inside knowledge of why this or that page reference should be indexed, is a far more laborious process and with a far more useful product. Such an index would be based, for example, on the importance of all those references for a more nuanced understanding of the person, concept or event in question. Indeed to compile an index is itself a process of interpretation, and though inevitably biased by the writer's own perceptions, it is the product of the same mind that wrote the book in the first place. So, by all means an index; but please, a judicious selection of the key page references that aids study and gathers for the reader's retrieval, important fragments of knowledge; and please, not a computer generated data mass, promising little more than the distilled essence of tedium proportionate to pedantic comprehensiveness. Because, even with more sophisticated indexing software, a computerised index lacks the discernment of the scholar in intellectual control of the text.
A better example of an index which aids the reader's learning is in Katherine Sonderegger Systematic Theology Vol.1 The Doctrine of God. In eight pages, references throughout the book are collated and arranged where necessary in sub themes beneath a main subject. The result is an index that serves the reader, offers manageable data, and doesn't waste your time searching through minor tangential references. Yes I would probably have wanted a bit more on some entries; but if the author thought the reference important enough to index, that's at least a clue to significance.
Allow the indulgence of name dropping. Katherine Sonderegger came to Aberdeen University a year or so before she published that volume. She lectures with the same precision of language as she writes. She takes her subject with utmost seriousness, and her listeners likewise, demonstrating in the discussion afterwards what I can only call patience with the question and humility laced with authority in her answers. I'm not sure any question was asked that she hadn't already pondered.
At the end I spoke with her for a short time, about Julian of Norwich and what one scholar called Julian "teetering on the brink of universalism". Reformed scholar and critical disciple of Karl Barth that she is, she had considerable sympathy for the theological impulse of Julian towards an understanding of God's love that allows God to be God by acknowledging mysteries beyond our knowing when it comes to speech about God. That's what I mean by a theologian whose scholarly authority is enhanced by intellectual humility. And she compiles a very useful index!
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