Here at worky-work, I have been relieved of my duties towards the Behemoth Man of Letters and am applying my caring archival hand to the papers of Thin Irish Poet. Thin Irish Poet has the distinction of being the youngest Harry's author/collectee. I remember when TIP came to visit us librarians a few years ago. I only saw him for a few seconds but enjoyed listening to his dulcet Irish brogue fill the stacks. His voice was effortlessly sexy, by virtue of being Irish, and a total panty-dampener when reading aloud from his works. It reminded me of my One Life To Live obsession, when IRA operative/college professor (of course) Patrick Thornhart charmed daytime viewers with his Irish poet soul. Brown penny brown penny brown penny... O, the magic!
Turns out that TIP, like Behemoth, did not cull needless materials from his collection before shipping it over from County Mayo. While Behemoth kept all of his hate letters and spirited backyard snapshots of lingerie-clad middle-aged female fans hoping to become Wife #7, TIP interfiled all of his boring home remodel paperwork in with his official writerly correspondence. So alongside letters from Annie Proulx and Coim Ni Dearrhnra (making that one up--lots o' Gaelic names I can't pronounce) researchers will appreciate finding a brochure from Irish Wood Frame and Custom Window.
I must say, I am having a frightening visceral reaction to not working on Behemoth's stuff. I miss Behemoth and his lawsuits and his unkind words for M. Kakutani. I suspect that Behemoth's appeal has little to do with writing and a lot to do with the ineffable chemical bitchslap that is charisma. Behemoth's got it pouring out of his aged Jewish ass in spades, and it just is. Nothing you can cultivate. Nothing you should spend time working your brain on. I admit to being seduced by his crap. I can't even get through ten consecutive paragraphs of his work and here I am committing the indulgent, unprofessional sin of pining (and blogging on the clock).
We have some Junior Archives Scouts over from the i-School this afternoon who are audibly creaming over finding stuff by K. Vonnegut. If they only know what's in store for them in the future.
Junior Archives Scouts. Hah. There are a lot of students wanting to be archivists in the libskool here.
I'm glad sometimes that I decided not to go through with becoming an archivist. I thought I would like it, but librarianing is more in my nature.
Posted by: Laurie at October 31, 2007 09:01 AM