On the advice of Phyllis (another resident at the student center), I cut short my work in the Rare Books Room in order to get to the Manuscripts Reading Room. Phyllis is also a Victorianist and works on Victorian music halls. In the course of talking, I discovered that she even had heard of UF - she applied for the Victorianist position that Julian now holds. Having asked about what kind of materials I was using in my research, she suggested that get to Manuscripts Room ASAP because it's almost impossible to get a seat once the Americans start arriving in full force in July. So, here I am, doing researching with big boys as it were.

The Manuscript Room is actually balcony over half of the Rare Books Room, but you can't see into either part from the other. One gets to the manuscript room by taking the steep stairs to the left of the Rare Books Room. I like to think of these stairs as taking one to a higher plane of thinking, or perhaps bibliophile nirvana. The room itself is very similar to the room below, with the exception of many more security camera bubbles and a high desk in the middle that almost reminds of a teacher's desk on a raised platform (the better for keeping an eye on you, my pretty). The people doing research here are much more intent than below, and there's a lot less people watching going on. It's pretty cool to see everyone studying everything from tiny little chapbooks to large illuminated manuscripts.

the stairway to heaven

As for me, most of work here will likely be rather frustrating. My plan is to read through the letters of my authors, looking for mentions of the texts I'm working on. Such work is usually time consuming, as one has to first decipher the usually very bad script of the letter writer before even being able to decide if the letter is pertinent or not. Still, when you actually find something, it's very exciting and can lead to other avenues of inquiry.

The only negative experience I've had with the people working at the BL came this afternoon. I had gone down to another Reading Room to use a reference book, and when I returned the new security guard sitting at the desk told me that my jacket had to be left in my locker. I was wearing my black jacket that comes down to just above my knee, but is clearly a jacket to be worn as part of an outfit rather than coat to be taken off. I tried to explain this concept, but to no avail. So, back down I went to the lower ground floor and put my jacket away. Having only had a problem with jacket this once, I put it back on after I ate my lunch and had no problems for the rest of the day. In other news, I've actually memorized my reader card number from having to enter it in so many times.

I did find an interesting letter from one of my authors to GB Shaw, but I can't seem to locate the Shaw letter my author is responding to. I really want to find it because my author says that Shaw discusses the novel I'm writing on at length. The author, Grant Allen, even says that he thought that Shaw's letter was better than Hardy's letter on the same novel. I wonder if Hardy heard about this comment;-)

When libraries collect papers and letters, they attach them to pieces of paper in large bound journal-like books. So, when you're doing research on one author, you also tend to run across interesting little tidbits on someone else who corresponded with person who wrote to your author. Here are two of the most interesting random tidbits so far:

*I was just looking through some of GB Shaw's papers and came across a slip of paper with the following written on it:

Vitamin C Tablets 50 milligrams

Just think - when we're all famous, they'll put our shopping lists in a Manuscript collection;-)

*While looking through William Morris's papers I found this lovely letter from Algernon Swinburne. I'm not sure what book Swinburne is referring to, but I'm was impressed by how wonderful the wording and style of even this short note by Swinburne:

The Pines
Nov. 24, 1889

My dear Morris

Many thanks for your beautiful new volume. Even while cutting open the pages I have come upon passage after passage of verse or prose that no but yourself could possibly have written.

Yours ever

AlSwinburne