I Hate Microfilm! I Love Microfilm!
Want to go insane and don't want to wait? Sit in front of a microfilm reader for eight hours a day, as I'm doing at the Church Archives here in Utah. The rules don't allow photocopying primary documents, so I must laboriously wade through the manuscript histories of the German missions, taking relevant notes on my laptop. Try to concentrate as you read page after page of missionary arrivals, reassignments, and releases while waiting to mine that golden nugget that has escaped other historians. I hate microfilm!Yesterday, in the special collections department at the University of Utah, I was delighted to learn that a collection owned by the Bancroft Library at Berkeley also exists on microfilm right here in Salt Lake City. With the help of a convenient finding aid, an enthusiastic archivist and a little patience--viola! There it was, the letter I was seeking, which supports a point in my project. The feeling of euphoria that exists when a researcher finds such an item can only be appreciated by somebody who has done it before. Not only did they let me make a copy but the archivist did it for me. I love microfilm!


2 Comments:
I've always believed that writing a dissertation is as close as a man can come to having a baby. From the moment of conception, the idea for the book, through the long months of genestation, in the archives and the microfilm reader, to the difficulty of delivery,the dissertation defense -- even to post-partem depression, when the consuming project is over -- and now what?
Thank you, Dr. Krammer. In the preface to the twentieth anniversary edition of David Halberstam's The Best and the Brightest, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author answered the question: What makes a best seller?
"It's a book that burns in your belly," he related. "Something that has to be written before you can do anything else."
I suppose my work falls short of that lofty goal, but I'm trying. Thanks for your inspiring words.
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home