In 1993, I had the privilege of doing research at four libraries in Great Britain. One was the Bodleian Library, Oxford University. I was geeking out on 17th century poet Katherine Philips. #englishmajor
The Bodleian was used as the library set in the Harry Potter movies. I was very excited to find out that the Bodleian boasts one of Philips’s letters in their collection.
I had an interesting exchange with one of our fellows in the profession when I stepped in.
“Hello, I’m doing research on Katherine Philips. I understand you have one of her letters. Might I see it?”
“No.”
“Ah, I understand. I’d only like to read the letter. I’m not expecting to touch the letter, or even take a pencil into the room with me.”
“No.”
“Ah, well, my professor is only just outside the door. Might I be allowed to see it if she vouched for me? She has a doctorate in English literature.”
“No.”
“Ah, well, are there any circumstances under which I might see the letter?”
“No.”
“Ah, I see.”
“If you had a letter from the president of your university, we might, Might! — (It felt like she was wagging her finger in the air even though her hands remained folded) — allow your professor to see it.”
“Ah”
“Our undergraduate students don’t have access to that material.” She lifted her chin.
“Ah, well, I see then. Thank you for your time.”
But she wasn’t done.
“Libraries in the States are different,” she said firmly.
Rather.
It was eye-opening to discover the differences among libraries, even when those differences weren’t convenient to me.
I wasn’t pining for home. When I felt homesick I would remind myself that I had the rest of my life to be in America and I might never get back to England. I’m naturally an introvert, but I reminded myself that these were my few precious months to explore another continent – with minimal supervision and all of my physical and mental faculties. I was truly free. I was incredibly fortunate and this fact did not escape me.
I had a laptop on which to work, one of the few students who did. The English department had precisely one laptop that it loaned out. It weighed over 30 pounds. My professor had gone to bat for me and I felt special, sure that my writing would be exceptional on this piece of technology right out of the future.
I was exploring a question that fascinated me, wrapped up in the poetry of a woman who reached across 350 years and grabbed ahold of my intellect and imagination: could two women have an emotional affair without having a physical affair? I was radically feminist at the time and Lesbian philosophy loomed large in my education where I was minoring in Women’s Studies. I didn’t know what to do with Philips’s declarations of friendship. And let’s be clear: friendship is all she claimed. Romantic, dramatic, swooning, emotionally riveting, life sustaining friendships, but not a relationship with a physical component.
Plum Librarian LLC 