Back in the bootlegged ebook days, I actually took the time to fix the errors as I was reading (usually for the second time). I even have an old A Wrinkle in Time doc file that I added all the illustrations to.
In case anyone is curious, here is a video of a book scanner in action.
I had wondered if they used a flatbed scanner. They often damage the spine of books.
I thought maybe they took the book apart. I do that with sheet music. I buy 2 copies of my songbooks. One to tear apart and scan.
I guess that video was filmed in slow motion? They say 3000 pages an hour. But what I saw looked more like at most 10 pages a minute (600 hour).
You can’t flip pages of a book too fast or your damage it.
They also make scanners where the scan bar reaches very near one edge of the scanner and the glass reaches the end on that side. Allows you to place the page you want to scan on the surface, hang the rest of the book over the side, and be able to scan the page almost all the way to the spine. The one I have is called the Opticbook 3600.
I’m not finding it now, but Project Gutenberg mentioned their scanner was called “The Chopper” because the first step was to cut the spine off so the loose pages could be fed through a feeder. They strongly recommended that if your book was valuable to scan it yourself and send them the file as they might not notice your plea not to destroy the book.
I have all three e-book volumes of the “Agatha H” series, the prose books for Girl Genius. I’m pretty sure the first one, Agatha H and the Airship City was scanned. There aren’t any noticeable typos, but the margins are inconsistent with the left margin being occasionally as far right as the mid-point of the page. I would fix it with Calibre but the wretched DRM prohibits that.
The other two were most likely done by hand as their formatting is much more consistent and they have amusing footnotes the first volume did not. Example:
As far as we have been able to ascertain, the mountains referred to here were probably part of The Balkans, but easily could have been part of the Transylvanian Alps. All we know for sure is that they were flat on the bottom, pointed on the top, and had ears.
I downloaded an ePub copy of Cheveley, or the Man of Honour (by Rosina Bulwer Lytton) that had the same problem; I gave up trying after the first two pages.