The Dunfermline Carnegie Library (Tuesday, July 20)

Our first visit on Tuesday was to the town of Dunfermline, located in Fife, on the other side of the Firth of Forth. That's almost a tongue-twister. However, we were not visiting to give our tongues exercise, we were there because Dunfermline is the hometown of Andrew Carnegie, and as such is also home to the first Carnegie library.

The Dunfermline Carnegie Library consists of many different departments, all housed in the same building, with the original Carnegie-built portion in the middle and a number of extensions to complement the library's growth throughout the years. It has an intriguing history. First opened in 1883, it was an immediate success-- by the end of the first day all the books available had been lent out. It is still a busy part of the community. The Local and Family History Library, with collections including ordinance survey maps, old photographs, vintage postcards, and census records dating back to 1841, is almost always busy. However, the librarians have noticed that there is always a further increased surge of interest after each episode of the TV show Who Do You Think You Are?, shown on both BBC and NBC. The filing system of the Local & Family History Room is one that was designed specifically for the collection, called DULCIMER, or the Dunfermline Electric Method of Retrieval. The majority of the collection is housed in the first climate-controlled room that we have come across in all of our tours. Since the Dunfermline library was not the largest or most prestigious institute we have visited, this was somewhat amusing to us, and amazed the librarians when we mentioned it. Then it was time for us to say goodbye to the Local and Family History and its librarians, and make our way to the Special Collections Room. The majority of the room's collections are dedicated to the Robert Burns collection, of the poet sometimes called "Scotland's favorite son" who was also the favorite obsession of a number of collectors who bequeathed their private collections to the library. It's also the annual meeting place of a Robert Burns fan club, who gather to read poetry and lay a wreath by one of the busts.
A funny thing that we noticed upon looking around is that almost every single picture featured Burns looking in the same direction. The librarian explained that it was because there is one portrait that has been called the most like RB, and in that one he was facing that direction, so all the copies that have been made ever since of course showed him facing that same way.
After this it was time for us to see other parts of the library, to include the children's room (which everyone loved, because of its bright colors and all the cute kids enjoying themselves) and the more general rooms of the library which held the bigger collections of Reference and Fiction. We also learned of some of the special programs running at the library, such as the Prescription for Books program, where someone may go to their doctor and be given a prescription for a book on a certain medical condition. This program has just recently been extended into the children's room as well. There's also the Beating the Blues computer program, a quiet, private program which acts as a therapist for a number of conditions, which has been found to be very successful.
More Edinburgh (and mini-break) adventures on the way! I'll be posting them tomorrow, so keep reading!
Pictures from the respective Wikipedia pages of the subjects, Andrew Carnegie and Robert Burns

Edinburgh's Central Library (Monday, July 19)

After our jaunt described in the last post, me and a few others made our way to the Elephant House, a nearby cafe that looked attractive to all in the group, although for different reasons. My friends wanted to see "The Birthplace Of Harry Potter," and I just wanted to see how elephant-y it was. It had elephants everywhere, great hot chocolate and a view of the castle to boot.
 While we were sipping our various beverages, someone nearby mentioned that the graveyard that was also visible from the window was the site where the author of Harry Potter had found many names she used in her books. So of course we all had to troop down and see if we could find those names. It was Greyfriars cemetery, well-known to many for the story of Greyfriars Bobby, the dog so faithful to his master that he stayed by the man's grave until his own death many years later. I looked at the Greyfriars Bobby memorial and grave, then meandered my way through the rest of the peaceful churchyard. My friends didn't find the main name they were looking for, but they apparently did find at least a name that was used in the Harry Potter series.
After this we made our way back up the hill, and the group split up into those who were interested in shopping and those who were ready to eat lunch before our next tour. I was of the latter group. A sudden drenching downpour didn't dampen our spirits, although it did dampen our shoes, and we eventually found a place that had some available tables inside and had a pleasant lunch. Then it was time to head over to Edinburgh's Central Library.
At the Central Library we received our warmest welcome yet. We were escorted down to a conference room area that had a screen and powerpoint ready to go, with a number of staff ready to brief us on various aspects of the library and a fleet of tea cups ready to be filled with either tea or coffee. We were shown the library's work in expanding into a virtual library online (they even have their own blog!), the development of many readers programs, and the library's continuing efforts in their conservation of their special collections. The Central Library is always at work in growing into the 21st century and its online and virtual world, with a portal to online services, a blog (which is linked in earlier), databases of local information, and Capital Collections, an online compendium of over 3,500 images. We learned about the benefits of being a library on Twitter, such as being able to respond to tweeted feedback from patrons, and the benefits of being able to post a "mystery picture" online that no one knows about and have locals identify where the picture was taken and other unknown details. When it comes to reaching out to their readers, the Central Library is tireless. They recently upped their crime fiction collection because "We asked our readers what they wanted, and they said 'More Crime!'" They've also begun circulating staff through more training programs to optimize their efforts with readers, such as Opening the Book, promoting a reader-centered approach for libraries. Other efforts involve working with younger readers to help them understand that reading can be fun--fixing what was dubbed the "spinach or cake" dilemma of the tendency to emphasize that reading is "good for you" (spinach) and missing the pleasure that can be derived from it (cake). The Central Library is devoted to its Special Collections too, with books from the 15th century to the present. They never throw books out. We learned that when it comes to working on preservation on a tight budget, there's one word that is an excellent guide: Justify (why?). We were let in on the secrets of red printing (which shows that the book was of a very good quality) and the fact that you can tell about the book's history just by looking at its binding.
Then it was time for our tour of the Central Library. It was opened in 1890, and is the only public library with an area devoted to Scotland that is actually in Scotland. There has been an added interest in genealogy and family history since the premiere of the TV show Who Do you Think you Are?, which the librarians often enjoy as much as the readers do. The Central Library has a good DVD collection, but in the age of Blockbuster and Netflix they try to maintain a collection of the classics ("more Casablanca than Casino Royale") and leave the newer items to the rest of the world. While some would think that patrons might get annoyed about this, in reality they really enjoy getting to borrow the classics, which would usually be harder to find. Another intriguing quirk of the Central Library in the harder-to-find category is their amazing collections of materials in other languages, to include Gaelic. We walked by an area highlighting a book with a familiar-looking redhead that was titled "Dalek of Green Gables."
More posts on the way, Monday at the latest! Thanks for reading :)
Image used in this post is ClipArt.

Good Morning, Scotland! & the National Library of Scotland

The first morning in Scotland (Monday, July 19) I successfully got up when my alarm went off (without waking however many of my 5 roommates who were still asleep), got around, and was headed out the door with some others at about 8:30 am. The reason for this is that the rendezvous point for our class that day was 9:00 at the bus stop, and it is a little walk into town (okay, village) and to the bus stop. We found we had overestimated the time, so a few of us stopped in at various places and grabbed a bite to eat--one of us found a bakery that sold a bag of small donuts for £1, and it was a large enough bag that it was shared amongst all and all agreed it was a very good bargain. More and more of us trickled in, and once we were all there and accounted for we hopped on the coach (I'm beginning to remember not to say "bus," aren't you proud?) and headed into Edinburgh.
One thing that was interesting to me was that there was no definable point where the surrounding area stopped and Edinburgh started. With most areas I've been to, there's a clear point where you can say "Right here is where the city starts." But that morning on the way in there wasn't, so I was beginning to wonder when we were going to hit Edinburgh when it was suddenly our stop.
We had to walk up the street a bit, but no one really minded much, especially when someone noticed Elephant House. We weren't quite that caffeine-deprived to make so much fuss over a coffee shop (close, but not quite), the reason is that according to an urban legend it was in that particular coffee shop that a certain author first thought of and wrote (on a napkin upstairs, some say) the names Harry Potter and...well, I forgot the other one(s). Anyway, the cameras were out in full force. Later on I found out that according to someone working there, there is no upstairs (and there's no basement in the Alamo, silly), but the cafe is more than happy to claim the spot as the birthplace of Harry Potter--it's even on the t-shirts.
Once the Potter mania had satisfied itself enough for the time being, we continued on our way and very shortly found ourselves at the National Library of Scotland.
The staff at the National Library of Scotland were unfortunately unavailable that day, so we contented ourselves with a history lesson in the John Murray archives. There were seven generations of John Murrays who ran the Murray publishing company, and they Murrays have published some of the greatest and the most well-known names in the publishing industry. Jane Austen, Lord Byron, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle... It's quite an impressive list. The staff had taken this list and run with it, resulting in an equally impressive exhibition.
Since the exhibition features original materials (mainly paper documents to and from the publisher), they kept the lights dim throughout the room. Scattered throughout are clear pods, in which are featured items to represent a specific personage from the John Murray archives. This resulted in a somewhat sci-fi look to us, leading someone from my class to quip to a nearby exhibit case, "Beam me up, Sir Walter Scotty." Each case held an iconic outfit of whomever was represented, a small number of documents which related to their life and work (and the John Murray archive), and then a number of items which may or may not be seriously related to the individual but always represented a character trait or iconic feature of the person in question. For example, the Jane Austen case featured a ballgown, a fan (representing the form of communication often used at balls), some checks she recieved from the publisher, a few other paper documents, and a bunch of red wooden hearts tied together with cord. Lady Caroline Lamb, infamous lover/stalker of Lord Byron, had a (modern) red sequined "devil's horns" headband in her case. Interestingly enough, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle did not have a case to himself, selected memorabilia related to him was simply scattered throughout the room in various nooks and crannies. Besides the more obvious names, there were also cases devoted to Richard Ford and Isabella Bishop Bird, both travel writers, and Heinrich Schliemann, an archeologist who found the first proof of the Trojan War as anything other than a myth or fable. Perfect final touches to the exhibitions were a table where you could write your own letter to any of the featured authors, and an interactive table called the Publishing Machine where you fashioned your own book from various choices modeled after famous books, then were told whether your book would be a bestseller (mine was), or not.
Image from Microsoft ClipArt

Elephants Everywhere!

You wouldn't think that elephants would be too common in the UK. But I, the elephant-lover, keep bumping into them. Well, okay, not actual, real, live elephants, but close enough.

An example: if you've been reading the blog from the very beginning, you might remember me mentioning the Elephant Parade in London. As part of a big fundraiser for an Asian Elephant charity, life-size elephant models decorated in designs by many artists were scattered all over London. While the elephants themselves were gathered up and auctioned off to new homes to benefit the charity just before I arrived, I have managed to snag a t-shirt featuring an elephant designed by Isaac Mizrahi.
When we had our weekend in Paris, there was an elephant statue outside of the Musee d'Orsay.

Then when I had a quick trip up to Camden Town (hippie/goth/whatever refuge of London) with a few friends, we happened to eat at a pub called the Elephant's Head.

Finally, today in Edinburgh, we stopped in and had a snack (it was elevensies for some, just a cup of hot chocolate for me) at a cafe known as The Elephant House. My friends were jazzed about it because it's the "birthplace" of Harry Potter (JK Rowling was a regular, evidently), but I just loved all of the elephants. They have hundreds of elephants scattered throughout, to include an elephant chair and elephant cookies. The fact that they have great hot chocolate served at the perfect temperature was nice too.

To top it off, I think I saw little stuffed animal elephants in kilts in one of the neighborhood shops. The shop was closed last time I walked by (everything is closed on a Sunday night), but I might check into it and get one sometime soon.

And who knows how many other elephants I'll see in my travels?
Image from Microsoft ClipArt.

P.S. A little note from July 26th, when I've arrived back at Stamford Street after minibreak etc.
There was an elephant in the National Museum of Scotland. It was the first known example of taxidermy.
Part of my minibreak was daytripping into Oxford for research and for fun, and I have to tell you about something that I saw at the Ashmolean Museum. Not only did I stumble onto an elephant, I happened to find an entire gallery of elephant portraits from India! Providence can be amazing, even in the littlest things.

So I'm Staying in a Palace...

Well, what can I say? The place that we're staying for the duration of our time in Edinburgh was a palace in the 18th century, then known as Dalkeith Palace. Just outside the little village of Dalkeith (which kind of rhymes with donkey, with a "th" on the end), which is just outside of Edinburgh. But while getting to say that you've stayed in an 18th century palace is cool (at one point in my trip planning I almost thought about coming back one night extra so I could stay the night in a Jacobean mansion-turned-hostel in the middle of London), I am kind of missing the good old dorm rooms back in London.

Here's why: while I already love Scotland dearly (pretty much Love at First Landscape), there are some things that I kind of like which aren't currently present. The first thing is plumbing. I love old houses, but I might love living with good plumbing a little bit more. While I'm thrilling at the sight of each new intriguing nook and cranny (I just used the servant's staircase!), I just might thrill more at good plumbing that isn't so intriguing. In fact, I am pretty sure that we will end up hanging out pretty frequently at a certain pub in town not only because of its good food and prices (and an award-winning menu, as it turns out), but because it had a really nice ladies' room. More than two stalls. Flushed easily. Good lighting. It won the hearts of all at our table. Another thing is personal space. I am an introvert, and while I can be outgoing enough, it's almost essential for me to have some personal space that I can retreat to. So even when it's a tiny dorm room, I don't mind that much. Here, I am sharing a room with five of my friends. Yes, it could be very much worse. But even though we all love each other, we're looking forward to having seperate living space when this is said and done.
Now that I've had my gripe-fest, I promise I won't complain any more. Because it is cool to be staying in an 18th century palace-turned-dorm/hostel, even with shared space and eccentric plumbing. And Dalkieth is a charming little village, with three churches and a Blockbuster. And by golly, this is why we call it An Adventure!
Since there are only two computers between several classes' worth of people, I cannot promise that I will be able to update this blog until my return to London. But you can be sure that I will be more than ready to tell you about my adventures in Scotland, including visits to the National Library of Scotland and the Central Library of Edinburgh tomorrow, and the first Carnegie Library in his hometown of Dunfermline and the National Archives of Scotland the day after. On Wednesday we have an "independent research day," which means that the night is paid for but there's nothing scheduled that day, so all of the people in my class will be touring around Edinburgh one way or another. Then on Thursday morning we all drift off to our own adventures. Mine will be getting to the train on time that morning! I think I can promise that if nothing else works I will be able to post on next Monday, when I return to our faithful dorms in Stamford Street and the excellent computer lab there. Until then, I'm going to laugh my way around 6-to-a-room, 2 girls' showers to the floor, and all the plumbing eccentricities.
Image courtesy of the excellent Wikipedia page on Dalkeith Palace, now known as Wisconsin in Scotland, because it is the site of the University of Wisconsin's study abroad program.

A Day in Oxford (Hurrah!)

Images in this post are courtesy of Wikipedia.

Yesterday morning we all got up and were ready to go at 8:30. We left in small groups and made our way to Paddington Station. We got there in enough time to peruse the Paddington Bear area before the first train to Oxford was about to depart. All the seats were taken, but several from our class squeezed in and stood. I and a few others waited for the next train, were the first ones on board, and got to have our pick of the seats. We arrived in Oxford a little bit after 11:00.

Upon arrival we were greeted by our professor, Dr. Welsh, who had been on the first train. She had bought tickets for us to use the hop-on hop-off City Sightseeing bus, and had those and our maps ready to go. We hopped on the bus and rode down to the Bodleian library. We weren't in time for the first tour at 11:30, but we found out what time we needed to be there for the second tour at 2:00. This was about the time when I realized my ticket had blown away during the bus ride on the top deck. I didn't mind walking. I had lists of recommendations  from wonderful friends who have lived in Oxford and studied there, so I knew of a wonderful little lunch spot in the St. Mary the Virgin Church, known as The Vaults & Garden Cafe. After having a bite to eat, I wandered into Blackwell's Bookstore, and promptly got lost. I managed to find my way out just in time for the tour of the Bodleian Library.

Our tour guide was a sprightly old gentleman who made us laugh, had us working hard to keep up, and was good enough that everyone I talked to afterwards said he was their favorite guide yet. He had even done some research to throw in pertinent information for us Americans, although he had mistakenly researched Ole Miss instead of the University of Southern Mississippi, and in this particular group of our class none of us were actually from USM. Unpreturbed, he started off with a lecture on the beginning centuries of the Oxford University (begun in 1187) and the Bodleian Library, which first began in the fifteenth century. The first buildings of the Oxford University were pointed out, complete with dates, numbers of students and instructors, and each entity's changing role through time. Our history lesson included not only the town and university of Oxford, but also the other first universities, in order: Bologna, Paris, and Oxford. Comparisons between medieval England and the Wild West drew some chuckles and some intriguing parallels. We learned how the original Bodleian library had been composed of 281 manuscripts donated by Humfrey, Duke of Gloucester. However, in the time of the English Reformation the manuscripts were thought to be too Catholic, and so all but 3 were sold to glovers. According to our guide, in Oxford during those tumoltuous times "there was a lot of people-burning, but not much book-burning." Our guide also pointed out some of  the meanings of the many symbols on the roof of the da Vinci school: "I could spend hours on this ceiling," he admitted before ushering us into the next area of our tour. We were shown the oldest surviving court in Oxford, from 1209, which was last used in 1968, as well as the University's Parlaiment area. Then we were escorted up to Duke Humfrey's Library, the oldest part of the Bodleian Library. It was where the original manuscripts were kept, and while it was used as a medicine school after the manusctripts were sold it once again became the Library in 1602 under the patronage of Sir Thomas Bodley, after whom the library as a whole was named. Our guide pointed out the various renovations wrought by Bodley upon the reopening of the library, to include the innovative bookcases and the idea of storing books upright. He also pointed out the frames on the end of the bookcases, and asked if we knew what they were. Since none of us knew, we learned that they were the first catalogues. In olden times, the way that librarians ensured that the books weren't stolen was by chaining the books to the bookcase. This was back when books were very rare and were only read in the actual library, so that in itself wasn't a problem. The problem was when you put the book back on the shelf. If you put it in the usual way, the chain would harm the book's cover as it went in. If you put it in upside down, the chain wouldn't harm the book, but how could you tell what book it was? The answer: they stamped a number on the side of the pages, then wrote on the frames at the end of each bookcase which bookcase, which shelf, and what number was a particular book. Then, with the idea of gallery libraries, the cheaper books would be kept in the balcony area without chains, and the only stairs down would come down right next to where the librarian sat. This was how library security worked for many years. After touring the Duke Humfrey's, we were taken down many steps to a door. The door led to a series of tunnels, which connect the Old Bodleian building with the New Bodleian building, and other buildings in the Bodleian network as well. We walked through the tunnels, watching firsthand how book requests were sent from one building to another and then filled, and generally being in awe of the fact that we were in the tunnels underneath the Bodleian. We were among the last tourists to see the tunnels as they are, on the 15th of August the tunnels will be shut down to outsiders for remodeling, and will not be open again until 2015. There's a lot of building and renovation going on between now and 2015 at the Bodleian, also in the works are plans for a new state-of-the-art book storage facility outside of Oxford. Because the Bodleian is a copyright depository (and was the first ever, by the by) storage space has always been a bit tight, with up to 5,500 additions a week. With the new facility, they can afford to store the less-used books out of town and have a bit of breathing room for the books that are used most often. But back to the basement of the Bodleian, where we were learning of all of this. During World War II, the basement of the Bodleian became a bit of an ark for many collections, from parts of the British Museum's library (what later became the British Library) to bits and pieces of many other places. It was also the main air raid shelter of the university. During all of WWII, Oxford was never bombed. There are many rumors as to why, everything from Hitler hoping to make it his new capital to Hitler wanting an honorary degree, but to this day no one actually knows why. Our tour continued up and out of the basement and into the New Bodleian building, built in 1940 after a sizeable donation by the Rockefeller Foundation. Here we learned that the Bodleian doesn't use a cataloging system like the Dewey Decimal; instead, books are cataloged by arrival date and size, which works perfectly well for the librarians. However, it is anticipated that after the renovations the portion of the library that will be open-stack to patrons may be arranged by Dewey to help readers find what they're looking for.

One thing (or, to be true, another thing) that I hadn't realized about Oxford University that amazed me was that written on the book featured in its coat of arms is a verse from a Psalm. Translated, it proclaims "the Lord is my light." Yet another reason to love Oxford.

The Victoria & Albert Museum's National Art Library

It's probably never a good sign when the first part of your class day is when you're nearly left behind. I had allowed myself to sleep in a bit --I'm still catching up from both the Paris trip and the long daytrip to Stratford-Upon-Avon, really trying not to get sick when there's a cough starting to go around. Just to clarify that I'm not sleeping away my London opportunities, when I say "sleep in" it means that I'm letting myself sleep past 8:00, but I have yet to sleep past about 8:30. Then I went over to the computer lab to research train tickets to get me from Edinburgh to my mini-break destination, which I ended up getting only just now because of indecision over the method of procuring the physical tickets themselves (mail or pickup?). I'd finished up blogging, checking email etc. just in time to run back over to the rooms, deposit something in my room, and then head out with the group to the Victoria and Albert (V & A) Museum. Evidently, I had been checked off the headcount list as I was heading through to my room, so when I got back down the class had already left. I managed to catch up with the group pretty quickly, though, waiting at a light to cross the street and catch a bus. No harm done, and a nice burst of panic and adrenaline are just about as good as caffeine in the sleepy early afternoon hours, right? We caught the bus, rode it for a while, got off and caught another bus that would get us closer, rode that one for even longer, and finally hopped off and walked over and crossed the crazily busy and rather wide street to finally get to the V&A Museum.
The V&A Museum is, as you might have guessed, named after Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. It's the largest museum of design and decorative arts in the world. However, the part of the museum that we were specifically interested in, and had come to tour, was the National Art Library. The National Art Library was created with the rest of the museum in 1857, but was only given its own space and heading in 1884. This was the beginning of the other type of Space Race, where there are two great institutions which need the same space for their own ends. The National Art Library has managed to grow in space since its opening, adding several rooms to their original two, now known as the Reading Room and the Centre Room. It has also lost some space back to the museum, in that one of their rooms was turned back into exhibit space with the lone exception of the walls, which were allowed to keep their books (although with a bar across to discourage grabby hands). With an ever growing collection and a no-weeding policy, the library has resorted to clever means of book storage, such as raiding space which used to be old boiler cabinets and turning them into secret compartments for their books. However, there's still a shelving backlog of books that need places to stay. The entire collection is organized not by a classification system, but by size, so that the premium space that is available is used to its best ability. All of the rooms of the library, including the two original rooms of the library, the Reading Room and the Centre Room, could be said to operate under similar policies. The Reading Room is a quiet study area full of desks, people and books. The Centre Room has more study space, along with a black-and-white photocopier (to best preserve the books) which may be used for most books, and a very nice camera set-up so that if you need a color copy or your book is too fragile you may take a picture of it instead, and either print that out or download it onto your flash drive. There's also an Assistance Desk for basic customer needs and an Inquiry Desk for more in-depth help. While most of the collection is closed-stack (readers request a book and librarians bring it to them), there is a small reference section that is open-stack (patrons may select their book off the shelf). The first level of the library, located on an upper level of the museum, contains the Reading Room, Centre Room, some backstage work areas and a conference room. The second floor contains a part of the collections, including the special collections, a good portion of the stacks (including the balcony area of the previously mentioned exhibit) and the primary office space for staff. The third floor contains more storage of the collections, to include exhibition, sales and auction catalogues for such famous art auction houses as Christie's, which often come in handy when researching a more obscure artist because "you definitely know he exists, his name's right there on the page."
After a tour of the general primises and the accompanying lecture on history (mainly what I have told you), focus (not only the collection of the V&A, but also Art and Design as a general field) and issues (the age-old story: space and budget), we were escorted to the conference room for a look at some examples of the National Art Library's collection. First up was a book that was an excellent early example of a book made by an Aldine Press, famous for being the first press to introduce italics. This particular example, printed all in Latin, showed the beginnings of the transition from Gothic script made to look like scribe's handwriting to the more Roman script, like what you are reading now. Next was a copy of the first folio of Shakespeare's plays, the first time that they were gathered together and printed in a single volume. This was done by the King's Players, who were the ones who would put on the plays, and is therefore considered to be the most authentic versions of the plays. The third item we were shown was a fine example of Elizabethan printing, the cover particularly, which featured a family crest in grand Elizabethan style. The actual book is the tenor part of a selection of madrigals. Next we were shown a number of Islamic book bindings minus their books, because in the 17th century it was thought much more important (and easier) to store and carry the beautiful bindings than what they had contained. Then we were shown a printing proof for Charles Dickens' Bleak House, complete with handwritten corrections scattered all throughout the pages. Suitably next was a collection of Bleak House as it was first produced, in small booklets of serial form. Evidently Dickens was writing them as they were produced, so there were a number of times when an illustration was taken out at the last minute because a character featured in them was going to be taken out, or some other issue. Next up were letters from John Everett Millais, famous artist of such paintings as A Huguenot, on St. Bartholomew's Day, Refusing to Shield Himself from Danger by Wearing the Roman Catholic Badge, often shortened to the simpler title of A Huguenot, these particular letters being written to his cousin's wife, a good friend of his. Accompanying the letters in our showing today were larger prints of the drawings he had doodled to illustrate the particulars of the letters. After this we were shown a first-edition copy of William Morris' 1896 fantasy novel The Well at the World's End, which is not in itself counted much of a classic but is noticed more because it features a character named Gandalf, and several other elements which may be said to have inspired both C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. Then we were shown a book whose title I cannot pronounce (it being in French) but may at least type here for you: Le Choses de Paul Poiret/Vues par George Lepape. It is, in short and in English, a 1911 French fashion catalogue, but if catalogues today were like that we wouldn't call them junk mail. Vivid and opulent illustrated images of which the figure(s) in the clothing line are but a part of the whole experience. A classmate commented that it was more intent on selling a lifestyle than clothes. Then we were done for a time with book-books and were shown selections of book-art and book-objects. The first of these was titled Gesammelte Werke: Band 7, by Dieter Roth. Pages from random comics (I think I saw some Donald Duck in there) and other found materials (I saw what looked to be coloring pages as well) all bound together in a book, with circular holes of various sizes and in various places cut through the entire thing. It would be very hard to read the narrative of the comics, or do anything at all with the book except to simply look at it. And since that is what is was made for, perhaps that's not too bad. Next was our first book-object book-art, made in the shape of a book out of old schooldesks. You could open it up like a book, and then there were various compartments that opened up and scrolls that unrolled and many other things to explore. This I think might have been my favorite, at least of the book-art objects. It was fascinating just to look at and delve into. Almost to the end here, keep reading. Finally of the book-art was something that could just barely be described as a book, in that it had a narrative function: a snowglobe which when shaken and suspended showed words from the American constitution which floated all about. Finally, a facsimile and exact reproduction of one of Da Vinci's notebooks. For some reason I expected it to be large, grand, and imposing, but it was really a small notebook just smaller than a hand, actually of a similar size to a notebook that I happen to carry about. The library owns three such notebooks, the real ones that is, but since they are so valuable they do not take them out often and instead had someone make the exact copies to be looked at. This one in particular had pages upon pages about levers and a few other technical details, as well as some good examples of mirror writing.
I thoroughly enjoyed my visit to the National Art Library, and my short visit to the V&A Museum, the majority of which I spent in some rooms dedicated to the works of Beatrix Potter. I had hoped to see Domenico Dragonetti's double bass, and take copious amounts of pictures for my double-bassist brother, but unfortunately it is not available to be seen unless you make a special appointment with a curator, and I somehow doubt that they would go to that much trouble for me and my camera. Ah well.
Tomorrow our class is getting up bright and early and going on a daytrip to Oxford. Hurrah!
Image is from the Wikipedia page