This week I started reading Arlette Farge’s book “O sabor do arquivo” (The archive’s taste), using the time I had being at home because of covid (I am better now).
The book starts talking about a deep sentiment that is the discovering and the exploration of the documental mass of the remnants of past lives, in the case explored by the book, the archives of Bastille, documents that tell the history of the people jailed and interrogated there, at the same time the archive seems to reference in our minds the events of the French Revolution that would still begin to happen when that documental mass was created. It too references the optimism and certainty of the Enlightenment and the bourgeoisie revolutions, a world enlightened by rationality, which would be oriented by the true analysis of the facts fueled, in turn, by information and the mass of probatory documentation.
In general, however, as the author puts it in this introduction, we are often left with an emptiness when we encounter these remnants, “vem a dúvida mesclada à impotência de não saber o que fazer dele” (doubt comes mixed with the impotence of not knowing what to do with it). I work in a library, one of the sectors of my work is the archive, one of the coordinators of the archive likes to share her job experiences with us (normally from the archives of influential figures in Brazil).
In one case (not where I work) she told a story of one of her mentors who found in the archive of a Brazilian fascist politician in the 1930s a group of matchboxes with a dead gecko inside each of them, inside the mouths of these geckos there were tiny papers with names of women in them. Of course, those were his only friends, however in a conference this mentor told the crowd about these “documents”, someone then recognized this practice with the dead geckos as an old homemade “ritual” to make the women mentioned fall in love with someone…
When you enter an archive or personal library, you often have the feeling that you are entering someone's mind, perhaps because that is the case. Roberto Calasso mentions using a parchment to cover the books in his library, first to protect them from dust and second because:
[...] It makes it much more difficult for the occasional visitor to identify the titles of the books. And that curbs any excess intimacy. It prevents that embarrassing situation in which, entering a room, someone quickly recognizes, even just by the color and aesthetics of the spines what the mental landscape of the owner of the house is made of.
This is my final paragraph; I would like to thank you for reading and ask your forgiveness for the delay in writing the other parts of the series of texts on serendipity and about the field of study about unexpected discoveries, this months I have been really busy with my undergraduate research, but now I am free and am beginning to write part two ;)
- CALASSO, Roberto. Como organizar uma biblioteca. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2023. 137 p.
- FARGE, Arlette. O sabor do arquivo. São Paulo: Edusp, 2022. 119 p.