A large literature addresses the processes, circumstances and motivations that have given rise to archives. These questions are increasingly being asked of digital archives, too. Here, we examine the complex interplay of institutional, intellectual, economic, technical, practical and social factors that have shaped decisions about the inclusion and exclusion of digitised newspapers in and from online archives. We do so by undertaking and analysing a series of semi-structured interviews conducted with public and private providers of major newspaper digitisation programmes. Our findings contribute to emerging understandings of factors that are rarely foregrounded or highlighted, yet fundamentally shape the depth and scope of digital cultural heritage archives and thus the questions that can be asked of them, now and in the future. Moreover, we draw attention to providers' emphasis on meeting the needs of their end-users and how this is shaping the form and function of digital archives. The end user is not often emphasised in the wider literature on archival studies and we thus draw attention to the potential merit of this vector in future studies of digital archives.

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Ten years ago I remember slogging along to the Science Museum, notebook in hand, to a Daily Telegraph presentation of the management's vision of the future. The online version of the Telegraph (was it for a while really called the e-Telegraph?) was a beast of a thing; it looked like the newspaper, it read like the newspaper -but if you clicked on that Ford ad in the corner, it sprang to life, giving you a 30-second commercial. The assembled business, media and technology hacks were grudgingly impressed, but I don't think a single one of us seriously thought at the time that we would ever contemplate the online newspaper as anything other than a gimmick -certainly that whizzy TV commercial was going to take an awfully long time to wheeze and groan through clunky dial-up modems.A couple of years later, Alan Rusbridger, editor of The Guardian, wrote that it would not particularly surprise him if by 2010 the "dead tree" paper was a thing of the past and that we would all be logging on to online newspapers. As he was not my editor at the time, I felt at liberty to wonder if he had temporarily taken leave of his senses. As it stands now, the timescale for the prediction might need elongating a little, but it has turned out to be chillingly prescient for the newspaper industry (and I am not saying that just because he is now my editor).Like all technological revolutions, it hasn't happened quite as we imagined it would -but it has happened. Online readerships now outpace and outstrip offline newspapers and are growing all the time. While many papers have remained either frozen in terror at this shift or uncertain about giving away their content for nothing, the market has decided there is a vigorous future for online publishers -if only we can keep pace with the technological and user-developments which challenge us from the grass roots and from the mega corporations.Offline newspapers are in yet another phase of feverish re-invention. The shift to a tabloid -sorry, compact -format for The Times and The Independent, a

Reviewed by Emily BellTo begin with: Nick Murphy's mini-series adaptation of A Christmas Carol opens with a boy urinating on a gravestone, the heat of it melting the snow covering the stone's face to show that yes, Marley is dead. Nevertheless, it trickles down to the corpse, animated in his coffin, begging for peace in a scene that more closely invokes Alfred Tennyson's representation of madness and death in "Maud" (1855): DEAD, long dead, Long dead! And my heart is a handful of dust, And the wheels go over my head, And my bones are shaken with pain, For into a shallow grave they are thrust, Only a yard beneath the street, And the hoofs of the horses beat, beat, The hoofs of the horses beat, Beat into my scalp and my brain, With never an end to the stream of passing feet, Driving, hurrying, marrying, burying, Clamour and rumble, and ringing and clatter, And here beneath it is all as bad, For I thought the dead had peace, but it is not so; To have no peace in the grave, is that not sad? But up and down and to and fro, Ever about me the dead men go; And then to hear a dead man chatter Is enough to drive one mad.