Yeats taped the letter into the notebook. Now, a century later, that book is on display at the National Library of Ireland, opened to a page that is just barely visible under the indirect lighting prescribed for aged ink treasures. Yet every syllable — every comma-deprived sentence, every curve in her script, every ampersand — is legible. Next to the display case the entire notebook has been digitally reincarnated. With the stroke of a finger on a touch screen, a visitor can flip through pages written 100 years ago and summon an image of this letter, or any other entry. If needed, Gonne’s handwriting can be deciphered on a pop-up screen that types out her fevered scrawl.
Read the whole story here. This is very exciting stuff to me.
The heartbreak is that I could have seen the exhibit when I was in Dublin last year, but didn't. It's one of several things that we just didn't jam into our few days in the city. Knowing what I know now, I would have made room for it by bumping something else. On the other hand, the visit to Dublin was a sumptious feast, especially from a literary point of view. So it's like enjoying a fabulous full-course meal and then complaining afterwards because you didn't get a cheese plate too. (And boy do I like cheese plates.) Instead I'll just be thankful for the feast!
4 comments:
My first attempt at commenting somehow got lost in the virtual ether--but I have to say once more: I love cheese plates too. And this blog post of yours is incredibly literarily exciting, so exciting we have to call it literary goat cheese. I would love to see the Yeats exhibit, but my next dream vacation involves sand, seafood and Moorish architecture.--K
Sand, seafood and Moorish architecture? That sounds like Tampa!
Sounds good to me! The very least we can do is lunch at some halfway point from the in-laws in Tallahassee next time we're down.--K
Oh hideous! That might be Gainesville! :)
Post a Comment