12 It’s Not Just About . . . Books
Emma Hartman
Introduction:
“I think the materials get happy when we take them out and work with them”
“Oh, isn’t that beautiful? I love my job.”
“There’s something so personal and touching about these artifacts”
“One of my favorite things about my job is the collections”
Each of these quotes, overheard from library and information professionals working in areas as widespread as digitization, conservation, reference services, and executive director positions, reflects the joy that can drive so much of the work in this profession. From the most patron-oriented to the most behind-the-scenes type of library job, everyone in the career has to work directly with the collections at some point. Librarians are often called stewards of cultural heritage as well as information providers, but those phrases don’t capture the full story and the moments of pure wonder that can arise in working with collections.
This chapter will explore a variety of rather unusual items held in library collections across the globe that presumably spark joy for the information professionals who shared them with an online audience and certainly bring joy to the author of this chapter (and hopefully to you the reader as well). As many of the other chapters in this book, rightfully so, warn about the increasing pressure information professionals face in confronting book challenges, increasing demands for public services in libraries, navigating a stressful job market, and sometimes even justifying the continued existence of libraries at all, this chapter seeks to take a lighter approach. In showing the joy of these collections, this chapter serves as a reminder of why librarianship is so often referred to as a calling and why so many individuals are inspired to go into the career in the first place. Each of these objects tells a story and in exploring them you will hopefully feel the same joy the author did while writing this chapter as well as gain a deeper understanding of how more unusual collections function and why they might exist in the first place.
1. Ouija Board at the Beinecke Library (Yale University)
At first glance this post about a Ouija Board from the James Merrill papers seems to be a delightfully spooky object shared just in time to celebrate Halloween, fitting in well with The Beinecke Library’s other posts from around that time, which showcased the original soundtrack to The Rocky Horror Picture Show, a Yale Glee Club Halloween concert program, and a print titled “a ghost in the wine cellar”. The Ouija board itself appears rather unremarkable, as it is a much simpler design than the more popular versions often depicted in media or that we perhaps played with as children ourselves. Yet, in some ways it is also more complex, including punctuation marks and other small details not often seen on a Ouija board. A closer examination of the life of James Merrill shows that this particular board is not just a spooky toy associated with Halloween but a key element of Merrill’s life and work.
Merrill was known for writing occult poetry, perhaps most famously for his epic poem The Changing Light at Sandover, which was Ouija-inspired. But Merrill was not simply known for an interest in the occult, but actually used the Ouija board to write many of his works, directly quoting the voices he heard during séances with the board and even claiming that the voices pushed him to continue writing after he believed he had exhausted the inspiration from the board. The finding aid for the James Merrill collection includes not just this artifact which Merrill used to conduct the séances with his partner, but transcripts of sessions alongside drafts of the poems that came out of them. Whether one believes in ghosts and spirits or not, Merrill certainly did and while his Ouija board makes for an entertaining Halloween post, it also forms the backbone and lifeblood of the work of a prolific poet.
2. Barbie Doll at the Small Special Collections Library (University of Virginia)
Summer 2023 saw Barbie popping up anywhere and everywhere in anticipation of the hit movie and librarians were quick to join in on the fun. Posts showed up with everything from pulling out Barbie books to photo op setups in the library to librarians posing their own dolls as shelving books or even working in conservation. So it is no surprise that the University of Virginia Small Special Collections library wanted to join in on the fun and highlight a doll that is actually accessioned into their collection. According to the catalog entry the 1997 doll was part of a series of 20 cheerleader Barbies in uniforms of different universities.
University Barbie is certainly fun and makes for a wonderful feel-good social media post, but how else could this artifact be used and why is it in the library in the first place? Subject headings for the doll offer some insight, as it is listed under “University of Virginia — Collectibles”, “Barbie dolls”, “Cheerleading — Virginia — Charlottesville”, and “Dolls”. The two categories specifically related to the University of Virginia lend themselves to the idea of putting the doll in an exhibit regarding the history of the school, athletics, or school spirit designed to not only be educational but spark joy and camaraderie among students, staff, and alumni who see the exhibit. Yet the other, more general subject headings, suggest that this Barbie may be more than just a bright spot in a librarian’s day on Twitter/X or in an exhibit; she may be part of more serious scholarly study. The subject heading “Barbie dolls” shows 36 results, some of which, like this artifact are produced by Mattel as part of the line of toys and books, but most of which are written about the concept and cultural impacts of Barbie from a historical or gender studies perspective. The subject heading “dolls” extends that reach even more to include over 1000 results, many of them in the same vein as the Barbie-specific scholarship. Of course one could push back against this and argue that the doll would not really help many authors write those works, but it does bring context to them in a very personal way, especially for students at this particular University and so this Barbie can be both a joyful post and a useful pedagogical tool – just don’t take her out of the box.
3. Cigarettes at the Newberry Library
Despite their website saying in big, bold letters, “Open More Than Books”, the Newberry Library still acknowledges that many of their artifacts are considered unusual for a library to have as exemplified by this post. Although many of the items highlighted here one may expect to find in a museum, cigarette butts are often considered trash, even when the person who used them was quite well-known, making these an extra unusual part of the collection.
A deeper dive into the finding aid for the Mike Royko papers does not reveal much about why Royko held on to the cigarette butts and container or how it ended up at the Newberry, but it does provide a gateway to a fuller picture of the Chicago journalist and his life. Other personal items in the collection include a purple marker, a hat rack supposedly originally owned by Carl Sandburg, a duck patterned necktie, and a gray tweed wool hat. These are just a few of the many items in the collection, but they already begin to paint a much clearer picture of Royko when taken together, breathing life and a person behind the pen into a collection that is otherwise made up of large swaths of newspaper articles from his time as a reporter and correspondence from readers. Although articles and correspondence certainly say something about Royko’s life and career and are probably more likely to be requested by a researcher than his used cigarette butts, they also risk leaving researchers with a picture of Royko as a disembodied voice or unclear figure behind the pen. So while the cigarette butts may be mostly used for a cute post and a laugh at the weird things that end up getting saved, they ultimately act as a gateway to a much fuller picture of the life and character of the man who smoked them.
4. Peep Show at the University of North Carolina Library
The term “peep show” is probably better known for its more sexualized meaning, but this example from the Wilson Special Collections Library at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill highlights the term’s original meaning, popularized in the 17th and 18th centuries. Also known as “raree” shows or rarity shows, these devices were common among street performers across Europe as well as in China and Japan. The post explains how the devices work, but it is also interesting to note their crossover between the fun of popular culture and the understanding they give to the lives of common people, several centuries ago, but also the world of theater, as Encyclopedia Britannica has noted that some early peep shows offer some of the only accurate representations we have of stage design and scenery of their period.
The librarian who put together this post certainly had fun with word play (“Peep the peep show”) while highlighting this object and it would make for a cheeky joke to tell your friends that you’re going to the library for a peep show, but this artifact makes for more than just a fun gag based on changing word connotations. The behind the scenes image of capturing a photo of the object shows the challenges archivists may face in attempting to make an object so dependent on the viewer’s interaction with it more accessible to those who cannot go see it in person. These devices were used to entertain audience members for centuries and by engaging in the challenging, and hopefully fun, work of trying to capture that experience for a digital audience, librarians and archivists can bring that same sense of delight into the 21st century for a whole new set of viewers to enjoy.
5. James Dickey’s Typewriter and Life Mask at the Irvin Department of Rare Books & Special Collections (University of South Carolina)
This post showcases a wide variety of items all related to a specific person – the first edition books and photographs are expected for a library collection, the typewriter and life mask less so. The first edition works and manuscript collections show much about James Dickey’s professional life as a professor and poet. The photograph certainly helps bring the man to life, showing him as he lived and his hobbies, such as playing guitar, but it is the more unusual objects that truly bring to life and bring out the joy in this collection. The life mask may be unsettling to some viewers, but it captures the body of Dickey in a much more visceral way than any photograph can, actually bringing to life his features with a level of detail unattainable by photographic records. The true gem of this assortment of artifacts however is the typewriter. The note typed on University of South Carolina Special Collections stationery which reads “This was typed on James Dickey’s Typewriter” exudes joy. Although not original to the artifact, the note shows the interaction of a librarian or archivist with the piece and in reading the simple sentence, it is wonderfully simple to picture someone sitting at the typewriter with a smile on their face, in awe that they have the privilege of using the typewriter of such a well-known poet.
A further dive into this collection reveals a few interesting things about its organization and institutional history. The James Dickey collection is divided into several subcollections including the James Dickey Library, which sorts out his own personal collection of books, and multiple archival collections, organized according to donor rather than by subject matter. While this system works from an organizational standpoint, allowing for easier processing as materials are acquired at different points in time, possibly with different donor restrictions regulating their use, the different collections make it difficult for the researcher to approach and obscure the total picture of what the different items show when taken together. Thus, it is up to the curator, librarian, or archivist, to not only act as a steward for the collections, but to bring them together, as one did in this post, in order to show a full life story and bring out the joy of honoring that life story and life’s work.
6. Athletic Shoes at the University of Melbourne Archives & Special Collections
Here in the States, we might call these soccer cleats instead of football boots, but regardless of what you call them, they are certainly a fun piece of history to highlight in conjunction with a current sports championship. As the post highlights these shoes are important because they were part of the uniform of one of the first women’s football teams in Melbourne. The wear on these shoes shows that they definitely saw actual play, highlighting the lived experience of the woman who wore them and likely bringing joy to both the archivist who shared the photo as well as fans of the Fairfield Falcons, a club which still exists today and has expanded to provide even more athletic opportunities for women and girls.
A search into how the archives acquired this item and the rest of the Fairfield Falcons collection showed that the collection is actually part of the Victorian Women’s Liberation and Lesbian Feminist Archive, which is housed by the University Archives, but was originally separate and run by a small team of volunteers, beginning in 1983. That context suddenly puts these athletic shoes into a different perspective, highlighting not only the joy of sport and the extension of opportunities for women at a professional level, but the larger liberation movement concurrent with the time of the establishment of the club. These shoes then become not only a representation of the joy of sport and the fight for women’s inclusion, but also the power of women-only spaces.
7. Emily Dickinson’s Shawl at the Houghton Library (Harvard University)
The original shawl, pictured in the post on the right, lives in the Emily Dickinson collection at Harvard University’s Houghton Library. The joy of such an artifact and the power to recreate it and get a better sense of what Dickinson’s life would have been like is clear in this post. Because a librarian or archivist took the time to ensure this piece of the collection was digitized with detailed metadata, they were able to spread the joy with an artist who then took that joy to an even wider audience, and circle back to the curator who shared this post. (For more on the process of how the digital surrogate was used to recreate the shawl, see video in appendix). There is such a pure sense of delight in the content related to this process, but the shawl is not the only joyful surprise the Emily Dickinson collection holds.
Besides the obvious draw to researchers of the manuscripts of Dickinson’s poetry, the collection also comprises a breadth of furniture and other personal artifacts belonging to Emily and the rest of the Dickinson family, housed in the Dickson room at the Houghton Library, perhaps making this collection the closest to a museum collection that we have seen thus far. However, part of the joy of this work is that sometimes there aren’t quite so obvious lines between librarians, archivists, and curators – all may go about the job in slightly different ways but ultimately all work to preserve information and make it accessible, and all certainly work to share the joy present in their collections. Other highlights of this particular collection include Dickinson’s herbarium, compiled when she was a student at Amherst Academy, and a hidden gem – a manuscript recipe for “black cake”. The manuscript has sparked a joy-filled tradition of Houghton staff actually baking the cake each year around Thanksgiving time. We can see from the examples here that while often times collections spark joy because they create a fuller picture of the life of the person to whom the object belonged, sometimes they can take on a life of their own, inspiring artists and creating workplace traditions, all in the name of joyfully celebrating a historical moment.
8. Marquis de Lafayette’s Sword at Skillman Library Special Collections (Lafayette College)
This post from Lafayette College libraries shows a family connection to an unusual object. The sword of the Marquis de Lafayette, whom the college is named after, is probably the most requested item by visitors to special collections. But other than belonging to the school’s namesake, why is the sword in the library and how did it get there? According to a digital exhibit produced by the college, the sword, along with all of his other personal effects, was taken from the Marquis when he was captured in Austria in 1792; when he was released five years later all of his belongings were returned except for the sword. The sword was kept in an Austrian family, eventually purchased by a Prussian diplomat and displayed in Berlin, until the Prussian family decided to present the sword to the school in 1932. As a trophy of war, the sword certainly has a contentious history and one may question why out of all the places named in honor of the Marquis de Lafayette, why it was given to a small liberal arts college, or why it was not returned to France for that matter. There unfortunately isn’t a great answer to that question. The manuscripts and papers of the Marquis de Lafayette are scattered across various institutions, most in the United States, and while Lafayette College certainly has a sizable holding, it is by no means the only institution with ties to the man. Special Collections librarians at Lafayette College have noted that Lafayette is a much more popular and well-liked historical figure stateside due to his associations with the American Revolution than in France due to his position as a member of the aristocracy during the French Revolution.
Regardless of how the sword ended up at Lafayette College, it remains one of the most popular pieces of the collection. As the post shows, visitors, regardless of whether they have a personal tie to Lafayette (the person or the school) or not, love to pose with the sword. During orientation, the sword is used as an incentive to get first-year students to attend workshops teaching them how to use library resources and visiting speakers or researchers are often given the chance to pose for a photo. Not only does the sword create individual joy and personal memories, but since its acquisition has come to play a key role in school traditions, being presented to the incoming class at convocation, and held by the winner of the Pepper Prize – given to the student who “most embodies the Lafayette ideal” – at commencement. By bookending students’ journeys this way and physically representing the ideals of not only academic excellence, but liberty and justice that students are meant to strive towards during their time at the school. The sword thus keeps the legacy of “America’s favorite fighting Frenchman” alive both in spirit and in practice for students and the community around the college.
9. Douglas Adam’s Teddy Bear at St. John’s College, Cambridge
Many of the unusual items found in libraries are part of the collection because they are personal artifacts related to the life of a particular author, like this teddy bear belonging to Douglas Adams. In this case, the artifact happens to be on loan from Adams’ estate; however the finding aid for the Papers of Douglas Noёl Adams states that the collection includes ephemera, effects, and artifacts spanning Adams’ childhood through death, indicating that the bear is probably not the only unique item in the collection.
As the post indicates, the teddy bear is being used not for research purposes, but merely to pay tribute to a beloved author on a day that holds special meaning for fans of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Although the comments on this post are few, they highlight the joy that such a display can spark, with one commenter even remarking how they love the thought that went into posing the bear in the library. Behind the posing of the bear and his towel was of course a librarian who got to share the joy of caring for this artifact with visitors to the library and anyone on Twitter/X who may have been interested in #TowelDay. On a more personal note, when I first saw this post my immediate thought was “hey, that looks like my bear” as I have a nearly identical bear passed down from my mother. Of course my bear likely only brings joy to my mom and I and will probably never find itself in the library at Cambridge, but the connection is a powerful reminder of the humanity and thought that goes into collections. The bear was likely not saved because it belonged to Douglas Adams, the acclaimed author, but because it was meaningful to Douglas Adams, the young boy who simply loved his bear and wanted to hold onto it as he grew into the man who would eventually come to be a beloved author. Perhaps then we can say that it is not because Adams was loved, but because the bear was loved that it survives.
10. The Elusive Sea Cow at the Rohrbach Library (Kutztown University)
The “Elusive Sea Cow” is one of the most unusual artifacts in this list if that is even the proper word for this creation. The sculpture was donated to the Kutztown University Archives by its creator, Kutztown student Abigail J. Krantz as part of a statewide “cows on campus” scholarship. The cow is an accessioned artifact, a public art piece, and appears to also be an unofficial mascot for the University Archives, having its own Twitter/X account and often sharing upcoming events in the archives. The sea-themed cow is clearly a beloved part of the library system on campus and sparks joy in both students and staff.
So how exactly did a giant sea-themed ceramic cow end up in the archives? The Rohrbach Library page says little about the sculpture, simply mentioning the artist and scholarship. A search for the phrase “cows on campus” yields little information, but adding “Pennsylvania” reveals a few news articles from 2004 about similar projects at other universities included under the umbrella of the Pennsylvania State System of Higher Education. It seems that the Kutztown University sea cow was part of this project in which the state system partnered with the organization CowParade in order to sponsor a creation of a cow at each of the 14 universities in the system. CowParade is a public art event which has been staged in over 80 locations since 1999 and seeks to raise money for charitable organizations (see appendix for more cows). So not only is the Elusive Sea Cow an unusual but well-loved part of a specific campus culture, but it is part of a larger tradition of making art and helping people – what’s not to love!
Concluding Activities:
Try it yourself!
Now that you’ve read about some interesting things in other libraries search for something unusual in your own college library or another library near you. After you find something research what the library has posted about it and think about why it might be part of the collection.
- Did it belong to someone famous?
- Does it relate to the institution its located at in some way?
- Is it related to an important event?
Reflection
Many of the unusual items in libraries belonged to someone famous, but many of them, such as the teddy bear and the typewriter, were saved simply because the original owner cared about the item in some way and only later did it come to be associated with their fame. What is something from your life that might end up in a library if you were to become famous?
- Why does it mean a lot to you?
- What could a researcher learn about you from it?
- Is it something likely to be preserved?
Chapter Appendix:
Video of the recreation of Emily Dickinson’s shawl available here
More on the ceramic cow project available at this link
