Barrie at Bay

In October of 1916, the world-renowned arctic explorer Vilhjalmur Stefansson had returned to his winter quarters on Melville Island in the far north of Canada. As the leader of the Canadian Arctic Expedition (1913-1916), he had just spent the past several months discovering new islands in the Arctic Circle, including Meighen Island and Laugheed Island. Although the return to Melville was meant to signal the beginning of the expedition's official completion, Stefansson would defy his orders and strike north again one last time, eventually returning home in 1918. It was the last time that he would venture into the Arctic.

While on Melville Island at the conclusion of his 1916 exploratory adventure, Stefansson evidently found time to catch up on news about the world war that had begun since he had set out on his expedition back in 1913. During his perusal of what must have been a stockpile of old papers, Stefansson happened upon a write-up of an interview conducted by "Anon" in the October 1st 1914 issue of the New York Times. The interview was ostensibly a tell-all about the author of Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie, by his manservant Brown and provided several opinions about the war and what America's role should be. After reading it, Stefansson took the time to send a letter of appreciation to the reporter who conducted the interview.

Nearly two years later, on his way back to civilization, Stefansson must have been surprised to receive a personal letter from J. M. Barrie himself. In his missive, Barrie somewhat abashedly confessed to being the author of the fictitious interview (which is how he had belatedly received Stefansson's letter) and concluded by expressing his delight that it had been of enjoyment for "any one on Arctic exploration bent."

To see photographic images from Stefansson's Canadian Arctic Expedition (MSS-229), come to Rauner and have a look at them in person, or take a look at the digital archive available online.  To see the letter from J. M. Barrie to Stefansson, ask for MSS-196, Box 2, folder 45.

Insta-Exhibit

This is getting absurd. Here I am using one form of social media (this blog) to promote a physical exhibition that is based on another form of social media (Instagram) that, at least for us, is a virtual gallery of our physical objects. Arghh, to almost quote xkcd, It's So Meta Even This Acronym....

But really, it is a great exhibit that you should come in and see. It features items from some of our most popular Instagram posts from the past 18 months. The actual physical objects are in the cases alongside the wise and whimsical commentary of Bay Lauris ByrneSim '15 and Hannah Chung '16.

So, even if you are not on Instagram, now you can enjoy our posts through May 1st! And, if you are on Instagram, follow us at @raunerlibrary.

Staring at the Sun

Yet another snowy day in late March on campus has us casting our eyes in desperation to the sky in the vain hope of seeing a warm and welcoming sun. It also brings to mind another sun-worshipper who got his start gazing heavenward in Hanover. Charles Augustus Young, the best and brightest of Dartmouth's class of 1853, was a world-renowned astronomer and a native son of the Upper Valley. After initially teaching Latin and Greek at Phillips Andover Academy, he went on to be the chair of mathematics, natural philosophy, and astronomy at Western Reserve College (now Case Western Reserve University). After a lengthy tenure as a professor of astronomy at Dartmouth, he moved to Princeton for the conclusion of his long and prestigious academic career. Young's expertise was in solar physics, a field in which he discovered a layer of the sun's chromosphere and invented the automatic spectroscope.

While at Dartmouth, Young's reputation was such that in May of 1874 he received a telegram from another major luminary in the field astronomy, James C. Watson. Watson was an astronomical prodigy who was, among other accomplishments, a recipient of the prestigious Lalande Prize in 1867 and the director of the Ann Arbor Observatory. Upon his death, a bequest from his estate established the James Craig Watson Medal, an honor that is still awarded today by the United States National Academy of Sciences for contributions to the field of astronomy. In the 1860s and 1870s, Watson was involved in some of the most important astronomical observations commissioned by the U. S. Government, and his message to Young was an invitation to join him on a trip to Peking, China, to witness the rare occurrence of the transit of the planet Venus across the face of the sun. After securing his passport, Young embarked upon a long journey across the Pacific to China as a member of one of eight separate observation groups sent out by the U. S. to observe the transit.

In addition to bringing back stereoscope cards of Peking and his observations on the transit, Young also returned with numerous fascinating Chinese books and other souvenirs from his visit abroad. To explore the rest of the Charles A. Young papers, which contain photographs, scientific data, and correspondence, come to Rauner and ask to see ML-49. Young's passport is MS 874511, and his alumni file is filled with articles and photographs from different stages of his life and career.

Trampling on the Mother Country

"Before we proceed to describe what America is at present, or by what means she became independent of the Mother Country, it cannot be disagreeable to our readers, to be informed of the persons, customs, and manners, of the original inhabitants of North America."

A lovely start to a book that has "endeavoured to divest [it]self of every spark of national prejudice." It is a History of North America written for the youth of England and published by Elizabeth Newbery in 1789. The revolution was still fresh, the constitution big news on both sides of the Atlantic, and, presumably, school children were anxious to learn more. Elizabeth Newbery had taken over the publishing firm she operated with her husband John Newbery that, in essence, invented the modern children's book (the Newbery Award is named after him).

We took a look at the book. "Mother Country" in the first sentence is a hint that it is not completely devoid of national prejudice, but the statement is countered by an image of "America trampling on Oppression." The book was reprinted in the States. Several printers, including one in Bennington, Vermont, picked it up and, in an era without international copyright, happily stole it from the motherland.

Our copy was clearly owned by a kid. It has drawings of ships sketched onto the flyleaves. Come on in and take a look at a child's eye view of the revolution by asking for Rare E188.C75 1789.

A Sign from Above?

In the 1600s, a prodigious snowstorm like the one forecast for today might not have been seen as a classic "Nor'easter," but as a warning from a greater power. We just cataloged a very cool little book from 1643 that describes a series of events that the author saw as signs of future doom: Prodigies & Apparitions; or, England's Warning Pieces (London: Bates and Markland, [1643]).

Among the descriptions are examples of lightning striking churches, the birth of conjoined twins, and a battle in the heavens. England had a lot to be concerned with at the time. Charles I was fighting for his crown, a battle he lost a few years later, and then lost his head over in 1649. It was a tumultuous time in English politics that tore the society apart. As this book indicates, the warning signs were there for anyone with a sharp eye.

I guess we should watch out! To see the warnings of another era, ask for Hickmott 516.

All we can say is, "Wow!"

Historically, the amazing breadth and depth of Rauner's collections is a result of book-loving Dartmouth alumni and their generosity in passing along their treasures to us so that a new generation of Dartmouth students can explore and marvel at them. Just recently, a group of students in Professor Sara McCallum's Vergil class came to Rauner to flip through numerous editions of the great poet's works. Among the gathering of tomes was a recently catalogued copy of the Aeneid that was first translated by Bishop Gavin Douglas into Middle Scots in 1513. Douglas's translation, titled Eneados, is interesting for a variety of reasons, including that it's the first direct translation from the Latin into an Anglic language and it's the first time that the word "Wow" appears in print (according to the Oxford English Dictionary).

Although we don't have a 1513 edition of Douglas's Eneados, we are lucky enough to have a version printed in 1553 that was a gift from Allerton Hickmott, class of 1917. This small but handsome book is printed with a blackletter typeface that gives it a distinctly early modern look and displays numerous lovely little woodcut initials throughout the volume.

We also have a much later edition from 1710 that formerly belonged to George Ticknor, class of 1803. Ticknor's copy of the text is a fascinating look into textual transmission and reception several centuries after the translation's initial creation. The typeface is now mostly roman, and therefore more familiar to a modern eye. Also, the publisher has included numerous linguistic tools, such as a list of general rules and a glossary, to assist the reader in understanding Douglas's strange and seemingly foreign language.

To try your eye and mind at Middle Scots, perhaps with the help of an early 18th-century appendix or two, come to Rauner and thumb through these wonderful gifts from two important alumni. For the 1553 edition, ask for Hickmott 399, while the 1710 edition is Ticknor LT V7aEd.

Coffee Break

It is a cold, rainy day and the students are starting to hunker down to prepare for Winter term finals. It's a good day to hole up and study with a cup of coffee and the lines at the Library coffee shop are long. Those looking for their caffeine and comfort might want to know the advice from The American Herbal by Samuel Stearns (Walpole, NH: Thomas and Thomas and the Author, 1801).

Stearns believed that coffee "assists in digestion" (nice after dinner beverage), "promotes the natural secretions" (we don't want to know), "prevents sleepiness" (duh!), "relieves the spasmodic asthma," and can be effective against kidney disease. But beware, it is "hurtful to thin habits, the bilious, melancholic, hypochondriac, and those subject to hemorrhage." Too much coffee have you feeling bilious or melancholic? Not to worry, Stearns says a cup of chocolate can cure those.

To see what other foods and drinks might do for you, ask for NH Imprints, Walpole 1801b.