Yesterday Evening's Report from London

Excuse some of the prose: it was late, and I haven't had a chance to post it until now...

First Impressions…

Well, I’m in London now, and have already accumulated a number of observations and comments on the great metropolis…

1. I had to walk about five miles before I could find a shop which sold bath towels. Apparently they hide them in various places throughout the city, in anticipation of the arrival of students who forgot to bring their own towels to the hostel…
2. A haircut costs about $20. There goes the idea of getting a trim before the conference. Well, I’m not the only academic with long-ish hair.
3. A pack of cigarettes costs between $11 and $12. Wow.
4. Motorists have no hesitation in honking the horn at pedestrians (such as yours truly) who aren’t crossing fast enough, or who are crossing against the signal.
5. Far too many people have a strange fascination with the latest techno/disco type music videos. Not that I’m knocking that—some of that stuff is really good. But when that’s ALL you play/watch/listen to, I start wondering…
6. Clearing customs was 20 minutes waiting in line, 15 seconds for the chap to stamp my passport. Hardly gave me a second glance. “What’s the purpose of your visit?” “Research at the National Archives.” “Ok, have a great day.”
7. British people are, overall, the most polite folk I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Cheers!
8. I’m not sure what to make of British cities, on the whole. If you look for it, there is plenty of evidence of what the doom-sayers like to call the “decline of British civilization.” Whatever that means. Rows and rows of small shops that sell exotic fruits and vegetables, a 99-cent store, hearing less English and more foreign languages on the streets. Sure. Fine. I don’t really regard those as negative points, however. Ethnic diversity = good, as far as I’m concerned. But then, that’s probably the immigrant in me talking. Descending from that whole 1919-1920s wave, I’m less concerned with homogeneity than others. What impresses me, however, is the curious, cramped uniformity of English cityscapes. In the United States, I love passing old buildings, from say the 1890s or early 1900s, since they often look very picturesque, have a history, and look charming. London is full of such houses, but they lack the full charm. Rows upon rows of apartment houses, curiously uniform in look, dimensions, smut in all the same places, whitewash ditto, and simply no space. Perhaps that’s it. The slightly smaller scale of everything here. All those jokes about Americans and size come to mind, but I can’t help it. There is a curiously depressed air to many buildings, even the ones which are in good repair. It’s as if the buildings themselves realized that there is no more room, and they’ve shrunk in on themselves, receding into a certain Dickensian retrospective…

Ok, that was overwrought.

9. The National Archives are excellent. A much more pleasant experience than the U.S. archives at College Park. At the latter, you can’t bring in anything not directly associated with your work. In the PRO, you can bring in walkmans, iPods, and such, as long as they don’t disturb other people. Quite the festive atmosphere, almost. Everyone is simply bustling and pleasant, very helpful, and busy. Like a beehive.
10. So, my advisor once spoke to us about one’s first time at the PRO (this is now the National Archives, but as a medievalist I really have to keep calling it the PRO whenever I can. Public Records Office, for those of you who are brand new to the field. Which won’t be many of you). And he was right. The exhilaration as the librarian hands you your first stack of documents. Here it is! Real parchment. Faded writing from almost 800 years ago. The odd imperfection in the parchment. The thrill, as Trevelyan wrote, in realizing that someone sat at a desk and wrote what you are holding now. This sort of imagined connection between you and the dead across time, that they would help you if they could, but since they can’t cross the gulf they just watch in frustrated amusement as you make the most elementary (and probably incorrect) observations about their lives.
11. Some remarks about working at the PRO…
1. Remember to bring evidence of your current address!!!! Without it, you can’t get a reader’s card. I happened, by the purest happenstance, to have brought a letter from the IRS which, happening upon me just before I left the US, I did take. Old, but still valid, address was inscribed thereon. I am more than ever convinced that there is a divine power in the universe. Mock as you please.
2. Paleography, paleography, paleography. Don’t put it off, as I have. Without it, you will get nowhere. I remember enough to make out some words, but Kaeuper’s stories about thinking you know the material until you come face to face with a document are vividly proved correct. Note to self…
3. The situation is complicated by the often poor and faded condition of the documents you are so anxiously seeking. An interesting indictment is completely faded at the beginning and illegible at the bottom of the parchment. The writing is standard, nicely spaced, and then suddenly some new hand, writing very cramped, ovular prose.
4. Something I discovered by accident: if your parchment is faded on front, flip it over, and think about transcribing it from the back. Backwards. Sheer genius, or not. Haven’t tried it myself. Yet. Often, the ink bled into the skin, so that it has lasted much longer on the back than the front…Not sure why that is.
5. Digital Camera. ’nough said.
6. You can order 3 documents at a time, and a max of 21 in a day. I figure that, with a moderate pace, I should be able, in the spring, to get through between 7 and 14 a day. Probably optimistic. At first I thought, “21? What’s with that arbitrary number?” But they know what they’re doing.
12. Well, that’s it for today. What to do now…work on tomorrow’s plan for the PRO, work on the conference paper, go to bed. Bed. Sounds good. Several days of little and bad sleep will wear down even the strongest person. Someone switched the channel, and now we’re watching X Men 2. Good grief.