Monday, October 8, 2007

Library Project, for safe keeping.

Peter Pan, the boy who wouldn’t grow up, has become an icon of children’s literature and movies, both in America and around the world. One would think that with a creation so popular, the man behind the boy would be a popular subject for biographies, documentaries, and other idolizing practices. The author J. M. Barrie received a brief bout of popularity in 2004, when his life was interpreted into the somewhat fictionalized blockbuster movie, Finding Neverland. However, it has been thirty years since the tale of Barrie’s life and works has been put into print.[1] Of course, the daunting task of writing out a person’s life, especially one as extraordinary as Barrie’s, can be off-putting. Still, this is no reason for Barrie’s life to be forgotten, or merely remembered for creating one little boy in an imaginary world. To write J. M. Barrie’s biography would be an awfully big adventure, and one that I would be more than willing to accept. However, instead of signing my life away, I intend to lay out the necessary steps for success of any scholar and biographer of Barrie.

When researching the life of a person, it usually helps to know at least a basic summary of their life and works. In the case of Sir James Matthew Barrie, briefness is not possible. Even still, I’ll try squeeze in as much of the vital information as possible. Although he is best (and often singularly) known for his children’s play, Peter Pan, Barrie was many things in the literary world. He began as a young and untrained Scottish playwright, and then fell into the journalism business. From there, Barrie built upon his reputation as both journalist and playwright, and also wrote the biography of his mother. Although overall successful, much of Barrie’s life was overcast with multiple misfortunes, including many untimely deaths. During his seemingly unhappy marriage to the actress Mary Ansell, Barrie befriended London socialite, Sylvia Llewelyn Davies, and her five sons. From his time spent with the family, Barrie created the character Peter Pan. After their mother’s death, Barrie became the adoptive father of the five Llewelyn Davies boys. The story of these five boys is as much a part of the story of J. M. Barrie as his writings and opinions. Peter Llewelyn Davies, who never overcame the embarrassment of being linked to the fictional Peter Pan, went on to become a successful publisher. The youngest of the boys, Nicholas (‘Nico’) Llewelyn Davies, passed away in 1980. Fortunately, Andrew Birkin was able to spend countless hours with Nico, and collect all sorts of information about Barrie and the Llewelyn Davies family which would have been otherwise lost. Although he is usually remembered only for Peter Pan, Birkin and others[2] have helped to illustrate Barrie as so much more than a children’s author.

Unlike the vast and scattered collections of many writers, the papers and trappings of J. M. Barrie are relatively consolidated, but largely untapped. The Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library, located on the campus of the University of Yale, is home to Barrie’s 46 surviving notebooks and a vast amount of other papers and items, collected and donated by Walter Beinecke Jr. in the mid 1960s. The internet inventory of the J. M. Barrie collection at the Beinecke Library was last updated in 1997, and also lists items such as speeches written by Barrie, correspondence, art, photographs, manuscripts, first-editions, and even Barrie’s will. This adds up to 65 boxes and 75 cases and volumes worth of Barrie ephemera. Birkin, the resident (and seemingly, only) expert on Barrie spent an entire summer working through this collection, and by best estimates, made it only about half-way through all of the writings.

By undertaking the huge task of compiling Barrie’s life into one book, Birkin unearthed many new sources that acted as windows into the past. His research included not only the collection at the Beinecke Library, but also private papers from the Llewelyn Davies family’s nanny, family correspondence and documents, pictures, and even Peter Llewelyn Davies’ attempts at a family biography. The most important source that Birkin had was his extensive interviews and correspondence with Nicholas Llewelyn Davies, the youngest of the five boys. Although oral histories are largely regarded as unverifiable and possibly detrimental for serious scholars, Nico was an invaluable source for Birkin and for all future Barrie scholars. Birkin bought all of Nico’s personal family papers, The Nico Collection, ”for no real reason other than emotional attachment” in 1979.[3] In the 2003 edition of his book Birkin mentions that he has come across multiple new sources for future Barrie followers to use, such as hundreds of letters, photographs, documents, and even other notebooks. After touring many countries as a display, Birkin sold the majority of his personal collections concerning Barrie to the Beinecke Library in 2003. However, before doing so, Birkin uploaded all of his notes, notebook translations, documents, ephemera, and even audio recordings onto a website (owned in part by the Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children[4]) for any interested person to peruse.

Although the Beinecke Library is in possession of Birkin’s collection, their online inventory of J. M. Barrie papers, which is open to the public for research, has not been updated in a decade. Birkin alluded to the idea that the library would keep their newer acquisitions “under lock and key” for a while, and the preliminary survey of the collection instructs all those interested to contact the curator for information about items not catalogued. In the 1970s, at the request of Birkin, all of the available notebooks belonging to Barrie were copied onto microfilm. Sets of these can be purchased directly from Beinecke, to avoid months of working with the originals. Between these microfilms and Birkin’s website (JMBarrie.co.uk), I could make a lot of progress without leaving my apartment, let alone Michigan.

One of the most difficult aspects of sifting through the Barrie papers is Barrie himself. His handwriting is notoriously cramped and scribbled, to the point of it being illegible. Birkin spent an entire summer translating the 46 notebooks into his own form of notes, and guesses that he was not able to transcribe a third of the 46 journals. Not only would the journals need to be deciphered, but Barrie left behind a legacy of plays, articles, letters, photographs (many taken by him, as an amateur hobby), and other trinkets. Even with a post modernistic approach to studying Barrie’s life that opts for content over chronology, I have a feeling that no one biographer could create a solid and truthful image of Barrie in words.[5] The man spent his life trying to capture time and childhood, and trying to explain his own feelings on paper. To assume that a definitive biography could be written about the man who was so adamantly against easy explanations is exactly what Barrie feared.

The copyright circumstances surrounding Barrie’s works are confusing, and to be quite honest, I don’t know how I would go about gaining permission to publish experts. Birkin has been forthright about not caring who quotes him, as long as they give whatever credit due. However, much of the papers are not Birkin’s to give. Barrie has no descendents which would deter a biographer. Rather, a board of special trustees was created for the Great Ormond Street Hospital Children’s Charity, which holds all rights to the Peter Pan idea, story, image, and everything else associated with the boy who wouldn’t grow up (often referred to as the Peter Pan Gift). Also, since Birkin generously donated the copyright of his own book to this same charity, quoting Birkin would have to be consented by this board of trustees. However, that is merely Birkin’s work and Barrie’s Peter Pan. According to Birkin’s website, the copyright to the rest of Barrie’s works was temporarily extended until 2007.[6] Therefore, I’m not sure if Barrie’s works have become part of the public domain and are available to all, or if they’ll continue to be under a confusing copyright law. Since the Beinecke Library is now in possession of the Barrie collection donated in the 1960s, and the not-yet-catalogued collection bought from Birkin a few years ago, permission must also be gained by Beinecke to research and reproduce anything under their control. Beyond Beinecke and Barrie’s actual works, not many other sources exist. Although permissions might be difficult to obtain, at least I would only be dealing with a few different organizations, and not an entire web of distant relatives and spiteful scholars.

Birkin’s dedication and perseverance laid much of the ground work for future writers and scholars of Barrie, but left an unknown amount of primary source material waiting to be explored. Because the subject of Barrie is unexplainably unpopular for biographers (but does well in book sales and with critics), it’s difficult to say how much there is left to be discovered. To write an insightful and fresh biography of Barrie, I estimate that research alone would take months. My plan of attack, or plan of organizing the material and notes, follows.

Notes and Research:

Thanks to technology, researching and keeping track of notes has become much more manageable. I think the best course of action, for me, would be to compile my notes in Word, or another program. That way, they’re easily searchable. I’d also keep a somewhat up-to-date version on paper to protect against losing everything if there’s a computer problem, or if I need a hard copy. I would obtain a copy of Barrie’s journals on microfilm, and use Oakland’s Kresge Library to scan them onto the computer. Also, since there’s such a massive amount of source material on Birkin’s website, computers and internet would be vital for me. I’m paranoid about losing files and work, so I would most likely create a website, or at least a huge blog, where I could upload notes and other files, like a back-up place to save everything on the off chance that my own computer explodes.

The Archives and Travel:

The fact that Barrie’s papers are almost exclusively collected at the Beinecke Library seems like a huge perk and a win-win situation. Although I’d like to stretch out and enjoy my time in the vault there, I have a feeling that even if I rushed through it all, I would still be at Yale for months on end. But, again through the magic of technology, I would definitely pursue a good relationship with the curator! I would, of course, visit the collection multiple times to sift through everything and take notes. Birkin was able to charm Beinecke into putting Barrie’s notebooks onto microfilm in the 1970s. I think it could be possible for them to take digital photos of sources I may need (or maybe I’m just too optimistic). Either way, I would plan to spend at least a month’s time at Beinecke, probably in the form of numerous weekends, or perhaps a week here or there. The first step would be to update the rough inventory of the collection from 1997, and then determine what was imperative to my research, what might be important, and what I would have to do without.

Overall Estimation:

I’ve always been a fan of J. M. Barrie. It seems as if the more that I learn about him, the more interested and attached I become. Most likely, I would meander through this research project (if there isn’t a deadline to meet), and enjoy it immensely. In Birkin’s case, he was working with a deadline and felt no strong connection to Barrie until the end of his research, documentary, and book. The trouble with pinning down a time is that I couldn’t possibly know and understand Barrie’s life by the time I die, let alone write it all out on paper. Although I would want to focus both on his literary works and his personal life, I would have to set parameters for my writing. The trouble is, I’m not sure what those parameters would be, yet.



[1] Andrew Birkin, author of J. M. Barrie and the Lost Boys, published his story of Barrie’s life in 1979. A revised edition was published by Yale in 2003.

[2] Another biography of Barrie is apparently in the works, or just recently released. Lisa Chaney’s Hide-and-Seek with Angels: A Life of J. M. Barrie (St. Martin’s Press) is said to shed a much less favorable light on Barrie.

[3] I’m going to include the emails I’ve received from Mr. Birkin, because I’m just too boastful. I’ll staple them to the back if you’d like to see them. They’re not that interesting, but I wanted to include them, all the same.

[4] In 1929, Barrie donated all of his rights in Peter Pan to the Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children, in London.

[5] Andrew Birkin took a rather unconventional approach when writing J. M. Barrie and the Lost Boys, sandwiching his narrative between excerpts from Barrie’s letters, notebooks, etc. Also, in his Introduction he asserts that he is not writing a biography of Barrie, but rather “’An attempt to dig up the dead and twist a finger in their sockets’ [as Barrie put it] … a love story told through the words and images of the dramatis personae concerned.”

[6] This was decided in 1987, according to the Berne Convention’s 50-years-from-author’s-death ruling (Barrie having died in 1937).

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