The title page serves as the chief source of information in descriptive cataloging.

• A. Index pages
• B. Title pages
• C. Endnotes
• D. Chapter summaries

Answer: (B)

Title pages, the quiet backbone of descriptive cataloging

If you’ve spent time in a library—or even browsing a digital catalog—you’ve probably noticed how a catalog entry can feel like a trusted shortcut. You skim a few lines and you know exactly what you’re dealing with: who wrote it, when it came out, what edition you’re seeing. In descriptive cataloging, there’s a simple truth that makes all of that work possible: the title page is the chief source of information. It’s the compass that helps librarians form a reliable entry and helps readers locate the exact item they need.

Let me explain why that little page holds so much weight, and how it shapes the work of cataloging more broadly.

What descriptive cataloging is, in plain terms

Descriptive cataloging is the art and science of detailing a library item so others can find, identify, and retrieve it. It’s not about judging content or creating subject guides; it’s about describing the item’s bibliographic identity. Think of it as the metadata backbone of the library. The goal is clarity, consistency, and ease of discovery. When you pull up a catalog record, you should immediately see the essential facts that tell you exactly what the item is, who made it, and how to locate a specific copy.

In this world, accuracy isn’t a luxury—it’s a responsibility. A well-constructed catalog entry helps someone distinguish between two titles that look similar, between editions that share a name, and between authors with the same initials. It’s the difference between “this looks right” and “this is the one I want.”

Why the title page is king

Here’s the thing: the title page is designed to present the core bibliographic facts in one place. It’s where publishers print the official title, the full list of authors or editors, the imprint (who published it and where), and the publication year. It often contains the edition statement, and sometimes information about the responsibility for the work—contributions by editors, translators, or illustrators. It’s common to find notes about the series, the volume, or the printing history right there too.

For descriptive cataloging, these elements become the primary data points that drive a catalog entry. The title page, by its design, collates the essentials in a way that’s stable across copies. Your catalog record will often map these details to the 245 field in MARC records (the title statement with the main title, remainder of title, and the author’s heading). The 250 field might capture the edition statement, and the 260 or 264 fields hold publication data. Put simply: the title page is the source from which the most authoritative facts are taken.

Now, that doesn’t mean other pages aren’t useful. They just aren’t the starting gun.

The supporting cast: index pages, endnotes, and chapter summaries

Index pages, endnotes, and chapter summaries are incredibly helpful in their own right, and they often point you toward a deeper understanding of a work. They’re where readers go for navigation, for context, for references, and for a quick snapshot of content. But when it comes to assembling a catalog entry—when you’re establishing the item’s bibliographic identity—the information you need most is typically on the title page.

• Index pages can help confirm the scope and structure of a book, and they might hint at the presence of a multilingual or multi-volume edition. Still, they rarely contain the basic bibliographic identity you require for cataloging from the get-go.

• Endnotes, footnotes, and appendices can reveal contributor roles or edition-specific notes, but they aren’t the primary source for the item’s official title, imprint, and date.

• Chapter summaries are wonderful for understanding content, but they don’t reliably provide the edition, publisher, or publication date needed for a precise catalog record.

In practice, a cataloger will start with the title page to capture the essential data, then consult other parts of the front matter or the copy’s cover or spine for any missing details or variations. It’s a careful balance of cross-checking and confirming, not a leap of faith on a single page.

From front matter to the catalog record: a quick tour

If you peek behind the scenes of a typical cataloging workflow, you’ll see a clear path from the title page to the library record. Here’s a concise mental roadmap:

• Title statement: The core of the 245 field. It includes the main title and any subtitle as printed on the title page, plus a cross-reference for the author’s name when it appears in a standard form (this becomes the 100, 110, or 111 field in MARC, depending on whether the author is an individual, corporate entity, or a meeting name, for example).

• Statement of responsibility: Often part of the title page’s line or adjacent to it, this helps you decide how to credit authors, editors, translators, or illustrators in the catalog.

• Edition information: The imprint may signal a particular edition or issue, and the edition statement is captured in the 250 field.

• Publication data: Publisher, place of publication, and year—these details live in the 260 or 264 fields and anchor the record to a concrete printing.

• Physical description: Pages, illustrations, maps, or formats, captured in the 300 field, telling users what to expect on the shelf.

• Other notes: Annotations that help disambiguate items with similar titles (like a series statement or a note about a revised edition) may live in 500-level fields or be folded into the 245 or 260 fields as needed.

In many libraries, catalogers also verify identifiers like ISBNs or ISSNs, even though those aren’t part of the original title page data. They’re helpful hooks for matching records across catalogs and validating the item’s identity, but the backbone remains the data pulled from the title page.

Common pitfalls that highlight the title page’s primacy

Even the best catalogers encounter tricky moments. A misread edition wording, a missing subtitle on a later printing, or a perturbed author order can throw a record off its rhythm. These are the kinds of situations that remind us why the title page’s role is so central.

• Mixed title data: If a title page has a long title with a colon and a subtitle, the exact punctuation and line breaks matter. A small variation can lead to a different record if you’re not faithful to the printed form.

• Variant titles across editions: Some works carry different titles in different countries or across formats. The title page helps you decide which title to enter as the primary one for a given record.

• Front matter complexity: Some front matter includes a preliminary title page that is separate from the main title page. Catalogers need to identify which one represents the official bibliographic identity for the item at hand.

• Authorship puzzles: When editors, translators, or contributors are listed in a non-standard order, or when corporate bodies are involved, the title page provides the clues that guide you to the correct MARC fields and authorities.

• Copyright and imprint nuances: The date on the title page may differ from later reprint dates. Deciding which date to record as the primary publication date can require a careful look at the edition statement and any notes.

These aren’t dead-ends. They’re reminders to trust the title page as your starting point, then broaden your scope with careful cross-checks to ensure accuracy.

A practical checklist for savvy cataloging (without the jargon overload)

• Start with the title page. Copy the exact title, subtitle, and any names shown there.

• Capture the main author or corporate author as it appears; add additional contributors as indicated.

• Note the imprint: place, publisher, and year. If the page uses a date range or a different format, record what’s printed and verify if needed.

• Record edition statements clearly. If it says “Second edition,” “rev. ed.,” or similar, reflect that in the catalog record.

• Include physical description: pages, illustrations, size, and format.

• Look for and record notes that clarify the item’s identity (for example, “ revised edition,” “with maps,” or “includes a bibliography”).

• Check for edition-specific identifiers beyond the title page (ISBNs, DOI, or catalog numbers) and map them appropriately.

• Cross-check with other sources or the item itself to confirm consistency, especially if there are multiple copies or formats.

• Keep an eye on authority records for names and corporate bodies to maintain consistency across the catalog.

This approach keeps your data clean and your users confident that they’re finding the right book, in the right edition, from the right publisher.

A few practical stories to ground the idea

Imagine a library patron who wants a specific edition of a classic text. They don’t just ask for the book by title; they mention a publisher and a year. The title page’s data helps the librarian confirm the exact match, especially when multiple editions share a similar name. Now picture a digital catalog user who’s scanning search results for a title with similar variants. The title page’s definitive information becomes the anchor that keeps the catalog record trustworthy amid a sea of look-alikes.

In real-life library work, this trust translates into smoother searches, quicker retrieval, and less confusion for students and researchers alike. It’s a small corner of the library world, but it has a big impact on how knowledge travels.

Bringing it together: why this matters for learners and librarians

Descriptive cataloging is the backbone of any well-oiled library system. When you recognize that the title page is the chief source of information, you see why librarians train to read it carefully, decode its clues, and translate them into precise catalog records. It’s not flashy. It’s practical. It’s essential.

If you’re thinking about what makes a catalog sing, note this: accuracy starts with the page that announces the item to the world. The title page is more than a decorative front piece; it’s the map for every entry that follows. And for anyone exploring the vast landscape of library science, that map matters—because it guides readers to the exact resource they need, every time.

A final thought: curiosity, not clutter

Descriptive cataloging can feel like a quiet craft—no dramatic reveals, just careful attention to detail. And that’s a good thing. When a catalog entry is clear and consistent, it saves time, reduces confusion, and invites people to explore ideas they didn’t even know they were seeking. The title page, with its compact bundle of facts, is the quiet hero that makes that possible.

So next time you flip open a book or scroll a catalog, give a nod to that first page. It’s doing more heavy lifting than it might seem, quietly orchestrating a reliable pathway from title to discovery. And that, in the end, is what good cataloging is all about: making knowledge approachable, one carefully captured fact at a time.