(Not the best photo of either of us, but ...)
I just got back from two weeks in Charlottesville–where it was colder than in Edinburgh. OK, outside, in the real world, it was many degrees warmer, but I spent most of my time in the freezing confines of the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library Reading Room, looking at the papers of Rita Mae Brown.
I spent every possible minute in said reading room—I’m still upset about a slightly late arrival one morning, caused by slow service in the student-run coffee shop. This represented approximately 61 hours of flipping through folders. There are 188 boxes of processed material (and approximately 30 unprocessed boxes) in the collection, of which I looked at 40. I was in full “turn every page” mode, so I felt good about that rate of productivity. (Obviously, I had prioritized boxes based on the finding aid—it wasn’t a random file flip.)
It was a fantastic experience. As I mentioned in my last newsletter, I’ve been researching increasingly intensively for about 18 months, but the information and “attitude” I found in the papers variously surprised, shocked, and challenged a lot of the things I thought I knew.
My main priority was the correspondence. As is always the case, most of the letters were addressed to the donor. One set of folders, though, contained both sides of a particularly spirited exchange—letters were dated just days apart–sometimes multiple notes per day.
These days it’s common to wonder how biographers of the future will access emails (though I’m also aware how many thousands of letters have been thrown away over the years). In the boxes I looked at, which covered the mid-’70s through 2000 (with a few childhood items thrown in), I got to witness a key moment in the evolution of correspondence, from handwritten notes to early dot-matrix printers, and for Rita Mae Brown at least, a long love affair with the fax machine. I now recognize the faxed message as the ultimate gift—it gets sent off and stays home.
I also came home with my longtime typewriter cravings revived in a big way. The period when everyone was typing their letters was glorious, though some correspondents were such terrible typists that I wished they had picked up a pen.
Finally, if you are paranoid about your letters falling into the hands of future biographers, I advise you to develop a florid script. I learned that I could not stand to stare at ornamented handwriting. Although I was positively Caro-like most of the time, as soon as I came to letters in a flourishy hand, I just moved on to the next thing in the folder.
I did develop some favorite correspondents—one cheeky schoolfriend was a pistol in his early letters; I was sad to see him get ground down by work. After a while, I came to expect the familiar pattern of apologies for not making a promised visit “this year,” followed by assurances that it would happen soon. (I’m not sure it ever did.)
COME SEE ME (AND PLEASE TELL YOUR FRIENDS!):
Edinburgh: On Thursday, Oct. 2, starting at 7:30 p.m.. I’ll be talking with legendary Lavender Menace co-founder Sigrid Nielsen and the awesome queer book group Wuthering Dykes. Details here.
Eugene, Ore: On Tuesday, Oct. 14, at 2 p.m. I’ll be giving a talk at the University of Oregon. Details here.
Portland, Ore: At 6 p.m. on Thursday, Oct. 16, I’ll be giving a talk at the Oregon Jewish Museum and Center for Holocaust Education. Details here.
Portland, Ore: At 6 p.m. on Friday, Oct. 17, I’ll be chatting with Judith Barrington, author, most recently of Virginia’s Apple, at Up Up Books. Details here.
Seattle: On Monday, Oct. 20, at 7 p.m., I’ll be chatting with Kira Deshler, creator of the fabulous Paging Dr. Lesbian newsletter, at Charlie’s Queer Books. Details here.
RECOMMENDATIONS: This time around, a reverse recommendation: Season 4 of Apple TV+’s The Morning Show is an old-fashioned can’t-miss hate watch. Everything about it is dumb, but after spending so much time looking at people’s letters, the idea that a U.S.-based Brit who could access all manner of restricted information and was trying to disguise their identity would not use American spelling in their texts struck me as particularly LUDICROUS. (I promise, everything is so silly, this isn’t a spoiler, nor is it worthy of further explanation.)
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Thank you for reading! Info on ordering A PLACE OF OUR OWN can be found here. Reply to this email to share any thoughts or ideas.