Monthly Archives: January 2016

Crafting Coupland: A Look into the Douglas Coupland Fonds

There’s just something about Douglas Coupland which made me think that rummaging through his fonds at the Rare Books and Special Collections library at UBC would unearth something incredibly intriguing, profound, and most definitely perplexing. Having been a long time fan of Coupland’s novels, artwork, films, and most recently his Twitter account, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on and sift through some of his archival materials.

After considering the issues raised in Jennifer Douglas and Heather MacNeil’s article, which aims to understand “whether and how we can know a writer through her archives” (Douglas & MacNeil 26), I was excited by the prospect of uncovering who Coupland is as an artist. Delving into his fonds, I was expecting (more like hoping) that a document, Post-It note, letter, receipt, or the collection more broadly would provide insight into the brilliant mind of such a multifaceted artist. Through that item, the possible “intent” of his archive would be revealed. I’ll admit that being quite new to archival research I unintentionally pulled Box 67 of the Coupland fond, which happens to be a series of correspondences, fan mail, and other miscellaneous textual materials sent to Coupland, dating from the year 1996 to 1999.

The files included letters of admiration, missed connections, manuscripts and poems from aspiring writers, a BC hydro statement, envelops with stamps, and a daily-log journal (most likely written by Coupland himself). One of the most challenging aspects of working with these materials was that most of these files (aside from the journal) were written to Coupland and would not give me a first hand account of the writer himself. These files merely highlight the one-sided relation between a public figure deemed culturally important and his audience. This indirect understanding of Coupland incited questions about the relation between the writer and researcher, and how that is mediated by the archivist. What about the researcher’s motives? What if the researcher’s intent is not to “dig out” the writer’s “neuroses and asses her psychological state”, as Marian Engels believes (Douglas and MacNeil, 36).

Guided by my reading of Catherine Hobb’s article, which explored the archival approaches in the establishment of a writer’s archive, I was curious as to how the Coupland fonds were received and processed. Luckily, I stumbled upon a blog written by student archivists who documented their archival method! I was surprised to learn that the materials were received in what seemed like “a veritable mishmash of non-related items”. The archivists couldn’t discern whether or not there was any significance to the way in which the objects arrived. This new information lead me to read Douglas Coupland’s fonds as a kind of “cabinet of curiosity”, so to speak. If the “wholeness” of the fond cannot be determined from its “fragments”(Douglas & MacNeil 27), what could that indicate about how the writer wishes his item to be viewed?

The only answer I could arrive at is guided by my own personal understanding of Coupland. Douglas Coupland, through all of his mediums, is a cultural analyst. His artwork, novels, films all reflect the conditions of our generation and where he believes we’re headed. These archives are evidence of what life was like in the 20th and 21st century – Coupland’s generation. Coupland appears to be thinking ahead. His archives are for future researcher, who through digging into his files will uncover certain things about this generation.

Here’s an article written by Douglas Coupland which might provide insight into how he thinks – specifically about “one man’s trash”:

http://thewalrus.ca/2003-10-detail/

The writer/creator has a direct relation to the researcher. The archivist, in this case, may potentially pose as a barrier to the researcher’s discoveries. Coupland appears to be providing researchers the opportunity to make sense of the objects in his fonds without imposing his own intent. Unlike how Douglas and MacNeil see the writer as “continually performing different versions of herself”, Coupland doesn’t seem to be performing any version of himself (Douglas & MacNeil 39)! It is the researcher who is crafting meaning and will teach Coupland something about himself. It is the researcher who constructs the “narrating I” (Douglas & MacNeil 34). But the question inevitably arises whether we, as researchers, are actually getting to the “core” of the writer’s fonds if there’s an additional level of mediation imposed by the archivist in its construction.

 

Works Cited:

Douglas, Jennifer, and Heather MacNeil. “Arranging the Self: Literary and Archival Perspectives on Writers’ Archives.” Archivaria 67 (2009): 25-39. Association of Canadian Archivists. Web. 15 Jan. 2016.

Gilean, Dan, Laura Hebert, and Sarah Hillier. “Unpacking the Douglas Coupland Fonds.” Web log post. UBC Blogs. Ed. Sromkey. New at Rare Books and Special Collections, Sept. 2013. Web. 21 Jan. 2016.

Hobbs, Catherine. “New Approaches to Canadian Literary Archives.” Journal of Canadian Studies 40.2 (2006): 109-19. Project MUSE [Johns Hopkins UP]. Web. 15 Jan. 2016.

 

A Little Introduction…

Who controls the past, controls the future; who controls the present, controls the past. – George Orwell

Hello! My name is Bronwyn Graham, and I am a fourth year undergraduate student in the midst of completing an Honours degree in English literature at the University of British Columbia.

My interest in archival materials begins as far back as I can remember. As a young child strolling through museum galleries, rummaging through familial archives, and encountering artifacts of generations past has incited fascination, imagination, and of course, an incessant amount of questions to my poor parents’ annoyance, I am sure. To whom did these artifacts originally belong? Why has this particular “relic” been deemed important, valuable or “archivable”? What does it signify? Why has it been enshrined in a glass box? The action of archiving and ascribing an artifact some arbitrary significance is something my younger self was far too easily conditioned to blindly accept and even be in awe of. As a child, I saw these archives as sacred, venerated, fragile, and of some significant value without ever really challenging that idea or noticing what hasn’t been included. The fascinating aura of mystery these archives seemed to exude, along with the power they wield in culture, captured my childhood intrigue. As an “adult”, part of me still finds the prospect of handling century old archives exciting and only slightly sacrilegious.

This childhood interest has only grown over the years, but in a much more critical way. A few summers ago, I had the pleasure of gaining real world experience working with the Vancouver Biennale as an archives and research assistant. Part of my responsibilities were to organize and digitize physical archives, as well as research and compile digital archives of the Vancouver Biennale’s outdoor installations and happenings. In a sense, I was creating an archive of the present. This was something, as a child who was clouded by the allure of historical archives, I had never consider to be of much value. The work I was doing for the contemporary artists at the Biennale could be seen as enshrining them – procuring and compiling artifacts and information for future archives, as deemed worthy. Given the artists’ success and popularity, some of the work I did may prove to be useful and go on to be included in other institutional archives. However, some (probably most) of the work I did will have been in vain; these archives will remain in a file online or in a file holder for the rest of time, never to reach the public or opened again. Forgotten.

My experience with the Vancouver Biennale and the resulting questions surrounding the selection, preservation, and access of archives, has served as motive for my registration in this seminar. Throughout this course I hope to engage with the issues that arise when exploring the voids and gaps within canonical archives: these “forgotten” or marginal memories of those who have no objective account of their existence. I am also interested in discussing how archives may figure into identity formation. Lastly, I hope to further discuss the ways in which archives function as a commemorative practice, especially in relation to dealing with trauma.

It was a pleasure to meet you all and I look forward to diving deeper into these issues and more over the course of the term!

Cheers,

Bronwyn