I read an article in The monthly, an Australian magazine which analyses politics, society and the arts. It features the archive of manuscripts amassed by Australian Geoffrey Cains, now being catalogued in the State Library of Victoria. Cains collected 60 boxes of material from 200 Australian writers in a collecting career of 50 years.
Phillip Larkin, poet and librarian, says that archives have both “magical value and meaningful value”. I understand these two values. Whenever I’ve trawled through archives (the letters of my great uncle from WW1 found in an old family trunk; the orchid paintings of George Raper and Ellis Rohan in the National Library; the magazines of German prisoners of war in Australia in the State Library of NSW; the diaries of battalions and individual soldiers in the Australian War Memorial) I’ve experienced a frisson that has more to do with magic than meaning, although meaning is obviously important. I wonder whether I’ll be able to access the Cains archive while I’m in Melbourne later this year.
More immediately I wonder what the Meg Davis archive would look like.
These days I try to keep as little paper as possible but I have rooms full of it: chronicle-diaries from the early 1990s; letters on handmade paper, many written in calligraphy, to a man from whom I got them back under false pretences when the romance faded; 30+ albums of predigital photos, including family albums and photos from Egypt, Syria and Jordan; three notebooks of my research into the background to my great uncle’s Great War; a box of material representing my teaching and consultancy life (lesson notes, workshop plans and teaching materials); files of letters from before email took over; cards and artwork from children and grandchildren; notebooks full of clippings, plans, photos that chronicle my big-picture life since retirement; two small notebooks, one reviewing theatre, one art exhibitions, both extinguished by the onset of blogging;
This is my paper archive. Then there’s the digital one. Thumb drives and CDs of photos in my early digital days: a dossier of orchids; more teaching stuff; all the teaching material I wrote for the NSW school magazine. Eight blogs: two Potato Point ones, one closed artist-and-writer one, five Warsaw ones.
This is by no means all. There are archives from other family members: the bundle of letters my great uncle wrote from the western front in World War 1; my grandmother’s postcard album; a box of theatre programs from the 1940s -and 1950s saved by my theatre-going aunts; my mother’s diaries from travels to New Guinea and Tasmania, her collections of quotes and comments on what she was reading, and a few of her daily diaries. Then there’s the suitcase of unfinished crocheted quilts and embroidery, tablecloths, duchess sets and doilies (those words and skills from the past), salvaged from my aunts’ house.
All this, and I’m in no way an important person. What must the archives of Important People be like?
I pursue the Cains Collection: I write to the State Library of Victoria to see if I can access it when I’m in Melbourne in May. Here’s the same-day answer:
Yes, it is possible to see some of the processed material; however not all the collection has been fully processed. You can ring 03 8664 7220 (the Library’s infomation desk) and they will take your order. You could view the first three boxes of material. This will give you an idea of the sorts of things the collection holds. If you have a particular writer you are pursuing then we could certainly look for material on that person.
I ring the information desk and I now have a booking for May 24th, 10am to 9pm, to peruse the contents of those three boxes, pencil in hand, no need for white gloves; and an appointment to have items copied if I so desire.
restlessjo said:
Before I got to Tish’s comments I was already thinking that you had material there for several books. ๐ ๐ Oh, lor! Will you have time to sleep?
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Sleep takes absolute precedence!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lucid Gypsy said:
Unfinished stitchery??? are you me? ๐ I bet your mothers diaries are interesting.
This is fascinating and makes me realise how little I have in the way of documents and family stuff. I once wrote a post about what will be left of mine when I’m dust on the wind or in the ocean, I won’t post a link as I re-blogged it once, but if you search ‘raku cats’ you might find it and smile.
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Unfinished stitcher isn’t mine. Unlike you, I’m not a stitcher. I did try to finish a dramatic thick-cottoned tablecloth, started by one of my aunts, but my stitching was horribly uneven, and an insult. I have mum’s journal of a trip to Tasmania when she was 60, and mine of the same journey at the same age. I’ll pair them one day.
I read your “The archaeology of me” with huge delight: it’s saved into iBooks for a periodic reread and savour. It’s such an interesting angle on personal archives and you write wonderfully.
LikeLike
Sue said:
Oh, goodness, Meg….you appear to have quite an archive. The Sue Judd archive is distinctly meagre by comparison! I have elected to get rid of quite a lot of paperwork over time, and have less than perhaps I would like from family members in the past. But I do have items that link me to them, and for me that suffices. And anyway, I consider I still have too much ‘stuff’!
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
Oh, I too have too much stuff. And I did throw a lot out, thinking of my kids cleaning up when I shuffle off. But I may need threads to link me to the past before that. My brother has a lot of the family stuff unopened since the clean-up and I occasionally think of asking if I can borrow it for a prowl. Probably a foolish thought, although I think it might involve family trees and family history research.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sue said:
Oh, don’t give yourself more work, Meg!!
LikeLike
Tish Farrell said:
Oh, Meg. There must be something in the atmosphere, but only today I’ve been considering/confronting my own archive with a mixture of dismay, frustration and irritation. Much of it is in my great grandmother’s second husband’s seaman’s chest – and I wish it wasn’t. I’ve now decided that I need to start reading through it all with a view to serious pruning. All those projects that I planned but have not completed. My only worry is that I do not have sufficient brain RAM left to process the stuff. So good luck to both of us in making something of our respective archives ๐
LikeLiked by 1 person
morselsandscraps said:
I’m cowardly. I wasn’t confronting the archive, only cataloging it! At least it’s now vaguely organised, a job from a few years ago. A sea chest sounds a bit irresistible. Have you browsed it before? And I bet you enjoy the thought of pruning plants more. Good luck to both of us indeed! I thought I was the only one with diminished RAM and unfinished projects.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Tish Farrell said:
Oh no you’re not alone. And not only is there the seaman’s chest, but also 3 x 2- drawer filing cabinets. So my stuff is all catalogued too, but how to process it. And do I need to. And can I write to the books I meant to write when I was gathering so much of it – 8 years of Africa newspaper cuttings not the least of it. Graham, who is v.good at cutting mega tasks down to size says I should just spend an hour a day confronting it. So far the contents of the seaman’s chest are spread all over the floor in an attempt to drive me to start. So good luck to both of us indeed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
morselsandscraps said:
Trouble with an hour a day is, once you get going you often get hooked – on either contents or finishing the bloody job!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Tish Farrell said:
Ah well, getting hooked is OK. The hour a day advice I think was G’s way of getting me started in the first place. No signs of that yet. Soon I will have to hoover the disembowelled contents of the chest…
LikeLike
funnymentalist61 said:
Meg, I was intrigued by your list of archives. How interesting. I look forward to hearing of your results from your time in Melbourne. We will have seen you before then. perhaps my penchant for hoarding of Mum’s letters, and plan to write her ‘Megoirs’ is not such a bad thing. I think you are aware my Mum was affectionately known as ‘Aunty Meg’ in a few quarters. ‘Nuff for now.
LikeLike
morselsandscraps said:
I used to resent having no name of my own after I married. And then I opted for Meg!! Your mum’s letters are worth reading, especially the Ethiopian ones.
LikeLike