I’m going to piggyback (okay, outright copy) from Catherine’s passionate communiqué and write briefly around an image from a recent archival trip. My experience of archives is less passion– although I think I’m getting there– and more tentative fumbling through books and papers. However, as I get more proficient, I’m finding that research is turning into a process that’s very different than I expected it to be.
This is the bottom portion of a woodcut from A lytell treatyse of the horse, the sheep and the ghoos by John Lydgate, printed at Westminster by Wynkyn de Worde about 1499. It’s in the Rare Books collection at Cambridge University Library, where I had the great fortune to go in March of this year. I went specifically to look at another small book printed by de Worde, a 1501 pamphlet excerpting portions of The Book of Margery Kempe. Cambridge was the third archive I’d been in for my dissertation research and by far the most intimidating. I felt far from home, a novice researcher who hoped she didn’t look too much like a clueless American. I decided that while I was there I should look at as many examples of de Worde’s printing as possible.
This image, particularly the rough ink drawings underneath, charmed and comforted me. Was it evidence of a previous reader who wanted to learn to draw animals? Incontrovertible proof of a timeless obsession with cats? I have to admit that I have no idea who made these little sketches — they also appear in a 1906 facsimile published by Cambridge University Press– but they remind me that books are objects with their own lives and personal histories, used for purposes well beyond what may have been intended by their producer. My dissertation considers how encounters/performances with medieval objects (construed broadly) shape the way later periods understand the Middle Ages. This image made me think about the (casual?) intimacy with books and their contents that may have developed as they became more accessible, wide-spread, and portable. My work is preoccupied with people’s relationships to material objects. As my own relationship to archival material changes and deepens, I am challenged to think more broadly about how others may have related to these objects, in the past and today.