Across the Pond: Begging honest Welshwomen at the University of Wales

High adventure alert

After three days at the National Library of Wales, I had checked off many items on my “list of stuff to find in Wales.” There was one very important item that I had decided to give up on without even trying: a dissertation by Patrick Thomas.

At the time, it was the only dissertation that dealt solely with Philips. Now, of course, Philips has become all the rage and there are plenty. But at the time, there was only his. And there existed just the one, hand-typed copy that the author had filed with his university’s library: the University of Wales. He did publish later, but at the time, that was it. It would have been wonderful to have his analysis. I did want to read it. But I had done so much traipsing around that I decided I would skip the University of Wales.

After three days in the rare book room, I had become chummy with the librarians. One of them came to see how I was doing. We chatted.

“The research is going really well. There’s only one important document that I’m not going to chase down and that’s Patrick Thomas’s dissertation.”

“But, he wrote that at the University of Wales.”

“I don’t know where the University of Wales is,” I tell her. She blinks.

“It’s here in Aber. If you go through the woods, you can be there in five minutes.” I blink.

Serious Ass Research Monkey Serendipity.

“But they close early in the summer, you better go quick.”

I picked up my backpack and dashed out. I ran through the woods until I found a grand, university-looking building. I walked down a long hallway to a common room. There were a couple of students there.

“Can you tell me where the library is?” I asked. They looked at each other and said, in Welsh, a variation on:

“We have no idea what you’re saying, but if we work together I think we can make this conversation happen.”

I decided to try a third language. “Bibliotheque?” I asked. Their eyes lit up and they began giving me directions in French. I had inadvertently given them the impression I could speak French. The light went out of my eyes and they knew they’d lost me. They got up and beckoned, turning to open one of those lovely European windows that go nearly to the floor. We scampered through to the lawn and they took me further into the woods to the library.

I thanked them profusely in English. It translated well. They smiled and wished me luck.

I went in and walked directly up to a librarian. I had an hour and a quarter before they closed. This was my last full day in Aber. I excitedly told her what I was looking for.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She faced me full-on and folded her hands in front of her. “That section is being moved and the Thomas dissertation is boxed up in the basement. It won’t be available for several months.”

She was a librarian. She had spoken. Her sensible shoes were both solidly on the ground.

Lights

Camera

Action

“I came across the Atlantic for that dissertation,” I said quietly. My eyes went to the floor. I consciously relaxed my shoulders. “I’ve been studying Katherine Philips for a year. For the last six months, I’ve read her every day. I came to London and Wales to find materials that are unavailable in the States.”

I glanced up. I could see her melting and pressed on.

“You have the only copy of that dissertation. Even the British Library doesn’t have a copy,” (of course she knows this, but reminding a librarian that they have the ONLY COPY of something is very effective motivation). “Would you please, please look for it for me?”

She sighed. But her best librarian nature has been touched. “No promises,” she said warningly, and went off. I waited and chewed on my nails. After ten minutes she came back with it, volumes of it, on a book cart. I was so thrilled that I literally jumped up and down. I nearly hugged her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I exclaimed. She was pleased.

“Where’s your photocopier?” I asked. She looked at me as though I were asking for a garden hoe. Something that couldn’t possibly have any relation to the dissertation.

The adventure continues.