Wie Feminismen archivieren? How to archive feminisms?

For English version scroll down


Ein Kooperationsprojekt: In einer längeren Blogserie wollen wir – Ulli Koch und Anna Zschokke – uns einem Thema widmen, das uns beide auf unterschiedliche Art und Weise beschäftigt und wir nun miteinander verbinden wollen. Es geht dabei um die Frage, wie (queer)-feministisches Wissen digital gespeichert werden und für Forschung/Zukunft/Nachwelt erhalten und zugänglich gemacht werden kann. Uns beschäftigen dabei sowohl historische Quellen als auch rezente Wissensproduktionen im Internet.

Unser Plan sieht folgendermaßen aus:

1.) Warum soll (queer-)feministisches Wissen in seiner historischen als auch rezenten Ausprägung gespeichert werden?

2.) Was soll gespeichert werden?
2.1) (Queer-)feminismus oder Frauen*, Lesben, Inter- und Transpersonen* (FLIT*)?
2.2) Historische Quellen
2.3) Rezente Quellen mit Schwerpunkt Wissensproduktion im Internet

3.) Aufbau des Archivs
3.1) Möglichkeiten – was gibt’s?
3.1.1) Historisch
3.1.2) Rezent
3.2) Was sollte es geben?
3.2.1) Chronik
3.2.2) Beschlagwortung
3.2.3) Kontextualisierung

4.)    Globales oder lokales Wissen?

5.)    Braucht es ein Superarchiv?

6.)    Wie?
6.1) Machen das Institutionen oder autonome Einrichtungen?
6.2.) Geldgeber*innen?

7.)    Fazit

Natürlich gehen wir dabei auf Kommentare ein, die diese Ordnung erweitern, über den Haufen werfen und auf jeden Fall beeinflussen werden. Unser Wunsch wäre einmal im Monat einen Post dazu zu veröffentlichen, aber das sei bitte nicht in Stein gemeißelt.

Aus welcher Ecke kommen wir?

Ulli Koch ist Literaturwissenschaftlerin* und beschäftigt sich gerade in ihrer Masterthesis in Gender Studies mit feministischen/frauen*spezifischen Sammel-, Speicher- und Dokumentationseinrichtungen, hat selber ein großes Buch-, Bibliotheks- und Dokumentationsfaible und bloggt auf Unregelmäßige Gedankensplitter.

Anna Zschokke ist Historikerin und studiert Bibliotheks- und Informationswissenschaften an der Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin, hat ein Medien-, Bibliotheks- und Dokumentationsfaible und bloggt hier auf Töchter Regalias und tweetet als @nightlibrarian.


English version

A cooperation project: In a longer blog series we – Ulli Koch and Anna Zschokke – would like to write about a topic, on which we have both mused at length from different perspectives, which we would now like to connect to each other. The series will be concerned with the question how (queer)feminist knowledge can be digitally archived, saved and made accessible for research/the future/future generations. We are taking both historic sources (materials and text) as well as recent production of knowledge on the internet into account.

Our plan looks like this:

1.) Why should (queer)feminist knowledge – both historical and recent – be archived?

2.)    What should be archived?
2.1) (Queer)feminism or female*, lesbian, inter- and transpersons* (FLIT*)?
2.2) Historical sources
2.3) Recent sources with emphasis on production of knowledge on the internet

3.) Structure of the archive
3.1) Possibilities – what resources are there already?
3.1.1) Historical
3.1.2) Recent
3.2) What resources should there be?
3.2.1) Timeline
3.2.2) Indexing
3.2.3) Contextualizing

4.) Global or local knowledge?

5.) Is there a need for a superarchive?

6.) How?
6.1) Should Institutions or autonomous organisations run the archive(s)?
6.2) Funding?

7.)    Conclusion

Of course we will take comments into consideration, which add, destroy and/or in any case influence this order. Our wish is to publish a post in the series once a month, but this is not set in stone.

Who are we?

Ulli Koch has a master’s degree in literature studies and is working on her master thesis in gender studies on organisations which collect, record and document feminist/women*specific materials. She is a fan of books, libraries and documentation and blogs in German at Unregelmäßige Gedankensplitter.

Anna Zschokke is a historian and currently studies library and information science at Humboldt University Berlin. She is a fan of media, libraries and documentation and blogs in German and sometimes in English here at Töchter Regalias and tweets as @nightlibrarian.

Full Service Libraries

This is a pretty exact translation of my text “Rundumservice”, but since it is easier to write freely than to translate literally, there may be some divergences. I also added some comments to some sections, because those sections pertain mostly to German-speaking Europe.

I am torn today. What services should a library actually provide? Which needs of its patrons should it fulfill? Should the library come to the patron or the patron to the library or both? But what do patrons really want?

Why not? If there are coffeeshops in libraries, where food and drinks can be purchased, why can’t office supplies be purchased there? Couldn’t I go shopping in the library and borrow books? Especially when I am a student and need a pen or paper or batteries or who knows what (tampons – *clutchespearls*).

Or would it be better if the library came to the office supply store, to the supermarket, the beach, the park, the movie theater or even into our houses? The following pictures are from a session from the Bibcamp – a barcamp for libraries (sorry, description in German) – in Nuremberg in April 2013. The session was about designing new services for libraries in a matter of minutes and quickly building prototypes with Lego. It was held by Elena Mastrapasqua and Dierk Eichel. There is a storify of it, but it’s in German:

Foto Anna Zschokke CC BY-NC-SA 3.0

This is what I called an “offshore library” at the beach or at the movie theatre, where closed bookcases would be provided by the local public library, to be opened with your library card. Books would have RFID tags and could be taken out then and there. At the movies they would be the books of the movies that were showing, at the beach there would be beach reading material and so on. I mentioned roaming librarians. Photo Anna Zschokke CC BY-NC-SA 3.0

Hörstation im Park bzw. in Wartezonen Foto Anna Zschokke CC-BY-NC-SA 3.0

This is a listening station in the park or at bus stations or other waiting zones (doctor’s offices, at government offices etc.) where you can plug in your headphones to listen or download audio books via bluetooth. Photo Anna Zschokke CC-BY-NC-SA 3.0

Bücherparty bzw. Medienparty zuhause - mit Bibliothekarin, Wissenschaftlerinnen die Vorträge halten (oder ist es doch ein Harlem Shake-Video?) Foto Anna Zschokke CC-BY-NC-SA 3.0

This is a library party, comparable to a tupperware party. A librarian from the local public or even the university library would come to your house to tell you about library services. Parties could be about library services in general or about specific topics, where for example, scientists from the university could come and hold lectures and librarians would offer the appropriate media. Or this could be a Harlem Shake video, I’m not sure. Photo Anna Zschokke CC-BY-NC-SA 3.0

Well, with the internet it is possible to access ebooks or texts in general everywhere I am able to establish a connection. Books are for sale in many, many places – for example at the supermarket. But in reality I don’t think about borrowing ebooks from the library when I am in the checkout queue at the supermarket, because there is nothing to remind me of that possibility (and because my local supermarket has really bad reception. Free wlan at the supermarket, that would be a service. Endless opportunity for free advertisement, because people take and share pictures of the products. I’m starting to want some money for this idea.) In reality, the selection of books in supermarkets or office supply stores or even museum stores is rather limited (Note that I am not dissing light reading or romance novels, I love those and own quite a few).

In reality one of the reasons why libraries exist is that many people cannot afford to buy books and other media all the time. And finally, in reality it is one of the central advantages of a library that in most cases not everything is collected willy-nilly, but that collections are managed, that books are purposefully bought, put together in defined collections and that those collections are carefully curated.

Collection management must also be applied to the libraries which come to their patrons, since they would be targeting a very specific/local need. One of the problems with all the wonderful ideas which came out of that lego prototyping session is that not all books are available as ebooks yet, that not all existing ebooks are available for libraries, etc. etc.

But what is there to prevent a university library from tagging certain places in the university as access points for topical collections from their repositories? At the University of Vienna, where I spent long years in study, there is this beautiful courtyard with arcades full of statues and plaques memorializing important scientists who researched and/or taught at the university. (Click here for pictures, unfortunately all in-depth texts are in German.) There are 154 statues and plaques for men and one plaque for a woman (I hope you weren’t expecting gender parity). There is also a statue of the nymph Castalia. In 2009, an art project called “The Muse Has Had It” resulted in the attachment of a large shadow to the nymph statue, to call attention to all the female scientists whose existence and presence was and is ignored, hidden away and forgotten. Here is a whole video about the project with English subtitles.

Anyway, how about making those statues, plaques and the art project “docking stations” where scientific publications by the researchers (a lot of them already in the public domain), about their research, biographies and even links to current lectures about the research and the people could be accessed and/or downloaded?

The Vienna University Library shows an “object of the month” on their website (English description of the actual object of the month sadly not available, only a blurb about the work with the collections as a whole) with links to the library which owns the object, and some more informations about the object, but if you want more literature about the object, you have to do your own research. Of course, you may now ask: “Do we need to feed you everything by hand?” But the answer to this is: If you want your library, your collections, your services, your informations to be seen, then YES! Don’t hide them away, but attach them to everything you have! Plaster your institution, your village, your city, your country with them!

Because it could be like this:

Literatur (und zwar nicht nur Belletristik!)/Informationen zu Sehenswürdigkeiten direkt bei der Sehenswürdigkeit auf das iPhone 8 Foto Anna Zschokke CC-BY-NC-SA 3.0

Literature (not just fiction) and information about points of interest at points of interest transfers to your iPhone 8. Photo Anna Zschokke CC-BY-NC-SA 3.0

When I wander through Berlin or Vienna, when I travel by train through the countries of Europe and see things, when I visit picture galleries, museums, conference centers, libraries and more, I wish for this service so very much. I just want to pick up my portable internet device and point it at even an unremarkable house (but with art nouveau style elements!) and get information about it. I want to stand at, say Tiffany’s in New York or the Lincoln Memorial in DC and get Truman Capote or Walt Whitman on my device without having to take a physical book with me. Although this would be a lot easier if there was paneuropean or global wlan. Some cities in Europe already offer free wlan, but I think this should be done everywhere, but without Prism surveillance, please & thank you (a lovely, if naive idea).

But all of that costs money and work. The creation and management of collections, virtual ones, too, is work. Many people are focusing hard on creating the library catalogues of the future, which will hopefully bring us more exact and more relevant search results when we’re looking for “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”, but this will still take a little while. And you all know about Google searches. (By the way, I have been looking for a specific techno version of Cole Porter’s “Let’s Do It” from ca. the 1990s for weeks. Specific to this techno version is the use of “When the little blue bird who has never said a word” and Google isn’t giving me anything useful, not even the Ella Fitzgerald version where she actually sings the intro.) This means that all these great services which could be possible will depend on the work of well-informed people for quite a while.

But isn’t there something that can be done now? Something that brings humans closer to texts (because we sadly can’t even talk about easy access to music and films yet)? Well, there are some things that can be done.

(At this point in the original text I am describing the situation in German-speaking Europe as I know it. American college libraries are – at least it seems so to me – already a couple of steps ahead of us.)

Why should universities not offer fiction to their students if the next public library is far away and/or doesn’t have opening times compatible with student or working life (still a big issue over here)? Although here I can definitely imagine cooperations between university and public libraries, with a local branch at the college. But in German-speaking Europe, branch libraries are being closed and opening hours are cut, because of lack of money (they say – they’re just not allotting more money to libraries).

For example, this is how the Stanford Libraries Blog (Stanford, CA) informs its students via Twitter and Blog about the fantasy titles in their curriculum collection:

Now that the brunt of the academic year is over Cubberley Library invites you to read something a little lighter. The library currently has a display of young adult fantasy books perfect for reading at the beach. If fantasy isn’t your thing we also have a wide variety of other genres as well. So even if you no longer quite fit in the Y category and are a lot more A you might still find something enjoyable to read. We’ll be more than happy to point you in the direction of our curriculum collection where these items are housed.

Does this seem normal to you? To me and to many of us here in German-speaking Europe, this seems strange. This positive attitude towards reading for fun! Phrases like “invites you”, “we’ll be more than happy”! Why, students could be having fun! They might come to the university library just like that, not just for research! And oh dear, they could be reading things other than “good” literature! (This is meant to be ironic. The sad fact is that students enjoying their time at university or school is not a big priority here.)

Although I must say that I do get a lot of fiction books from the Vienna University Library, even though their existence isn’t advertised. I just have to look them up in the catalogue and it is very convenient to simply pick them up at the desk. But wouldn’t it be even nicer if the university library would advertise openly that they have media whose purpose is entertainment? At the same time I’m all for the advertisement of recent purchases of scientific literature, because it can also be enjoyable.

Or let’s say, there is a big institution or firm, with a special library. Why shouldn’t there be a fiction section for all the people working in the institution or firm, maybe even with children’s books or cookbooks or gardening books or whatever? A full service? (I know a library kind of like this here in Vienna, minus the children’s books and non-fiction, just fiction. Again, this has much to do with the opening hours of public libraries here, which aren’t the best for people who work all day). Yes, this would cost the institution or firm money. But how about an open bookcase, where people can bring books they no longer want to keep and take books as they want? Such an open bookcase should also be subject to careful collection development and it should be clear that it is not a dumping ground and that books which aren’t taken will be weeded. But why not start up things like that?

Let’s bring the fun of reading to where people are.

My dream library

Foto Anna Zschokke

Foto Anna Zschokke CC-BY-NC-SA

If I ever get to interview people who want a job at the library I will hopefully work for then, I think one of the questions I’d ask would be: “Do you have a dream library?” Then I’d watch the candidate, I’d listen to what they say and how they say it. Do their eyes sparkle? What’s going on in their dream library? Does it involve humans or does it involve things?

Of course, budget constraints. Of course, personnel questions. Of course, e-books and all that. Of course.

But it’s a dream library. It’s not real. It serves to feed the soul of the librarian, because maybe some parts of it can be realized. Those can be small parts – displays, for example – or large parts, when, for example, a 3-D printer is purchased with the intention of offering a maker space or when a new library is built.

My dream library has a large plaza in front of it, so everybody can sit outside in the summer. It has areas for children and for teens. It has many rooms that can be used for making things, practicing things, for meetings, greetings, parties, what have you. It has an auditorium for lectures, movies, classes. It has a café where you can bring your own food and drinks. In that café there is a regular breakfast table, lunch table and dinner table for people who don’t want to eat alone. Everybody brings something to it.

My dream library has a large comic library. It has regular dress-up days, where people in costume get prizes (free dvd rental … or by then, possibly, free book rental). It has friendly service and long opening hours and it’s open on weekends and holidays. Ideally, it has a library cat, but I feel that could be very stressful for said cat, so … well, it’s my dream library. It has 10 library cats.

My dream library is open to everybody and actively works with the community to lend support to those who need it. That means social workers, nurses, showers. It might probably be best for it to have a kindergarten attached. Or at least it will have staff on hand to offer babysitting if parents just want to browse, work, relax for a few hours. Yes, that will cost money, but it will be offered. It’s my dream library.

In my dream library, you can borrow items. Tools you don’t use very often, baking forms, electronic gadgets, like heartrate monitors, water and soil testing kits, e-readers, mobile devices, plant seeds, glasses, art (from the community), musical instruments, knitting needles and crochet hooks, huge pots and pans, camping gear, extra chairs. In my dream library, you can borrow services – fixing things, gardening, babysitting, looking after elderly people, painting, moving things. The fees for services are other services. Or food. Or clothes. Or money.

My dream library is in a community that has community gardens, maybe even community fields. The plaza in front of it becomes a market place, where people trade their vegetables, fruit, and flowers. At the library you can take classes to learn how to preserve the excess vegetables and fruit, so the trading can go on even in winter. Once you know the basics, you can join the canning group that meets twice a month, because cooking together is more fun. On Saturday afternoons and evenings, the plaza becomes a different market, as people bring their crafts or things they no longer want to trade or sell, and people from the community perform the things they practiced together in groups or alone.

You can take a class for almost anything, as long as there is a teacher. The teacher doesn’t have to be there in person, after all, the internet is vast. And there is a group for almost anything, as long as there are interested people. Personally, I attend the knitting group, the choir and the folk group, the anime club and the comic society. Sometimes I’ll attend the gaming night. And I’m a member of the group that reads books out loud, so anyone can listen. We record the reading sessions, you can livestream them and later download them as a podcast from the library webpage.

Did I talk about the quiet room? My dream library has two rooms that get quiet at a certain time of the day, one for adults and one for kids. They can come there to rest, even nap, for an hour or two. Maybe there’s some Bach and other quiet music, louder than background music. Yes, there’s a supervisor.

My dream library has a garden, too. After all, I like flowers. All the trees in it carry fruit or nuts. And there are guest rooms, for librarians, scientists, writers, and other people who want or need to spend some time in the library or in the community.

Finally, my dream library records things. It records the life stories of the library patrons. It records their pictures, their movies, their email exchanges, their chat logs, their twitter feeds, if they want. It records the things produced at the library, produced in the community, and the things going on in the community.

And of course my dream library has a huge budget ;D

In the future I’ll sometimes talk about activities, events, services or media I’d like to offer at my dream library. Have you thought about your dream library lately?

The Library of Death

Or: When studying to be a librarian makes you take yourself too seriously and write meandering blog posts.

Recently I read a book by a young Austrian author, “Chucks”, by Cornelia Travnicek. It is part of a trend in (not only) German literature – novels by young authors, many featuring a wild or misspent youth, replete with sex (but not the sexy kind), drugs, alcohol, cutting, eating disorders, etc., sometimes in unnecessarily graphic detail (no, I don’t want to read about a rape that is just there for shock value).

My youth and young adulthood vastly differed from the mainstream, which is why I’m curious about the mainstream’s experience (sometimes, anway – someone please write a book about my nerdy youth). However, it’s the quality of the writing that keeps me from empathizing. The reliance on those “sensational” details rather than on explorations of the protagonist’s inner life or development and the bad style lead to boredom and much eyerolling. “Is that really what is happening with today’s (or the 90s or 00s) youth? And where is this story going?”, I found myself thinking more than once, reading “Feuchtgebiete” by Charlotte Roche, “Pink Hotel” by Anna Stothard, and “Hikikomori” by Kevin Kuhn.

But “Chucks” struck an eerie chord with me. On the whole, it is a well-written book about the slow death a beloved person and the accompanying grief. Furthermore, it takes place in Vienna and twice mentions a place very important to me that I used to pass at least once a week. The protagonist knits in the face of death – just like I did. And she must have read the same book of Robin Hood’s tales – Rosemary Sutcliffe’s version.

It became obvious that this book belonged in my Library of Death. During my father’s comparably short, yet seemingly interminable dying and for a while afterwards (in 2008/9, if you must know), there were a few pieces of media that helped me express and process what I was experiencing. They form a very special collection that has become part of the key to my personality. My Library of Death is unlike my collection of cookbooks, knitting books or romance, fantasy and other novels, and rather like my favorite childhood books and the small collection of books I love for their language, but even more significant (don’t scoff, I asked other people and some of them have Libraries of Death, too).

Two very important items I found at my local library: Alison Bechdel’s graphic novel “Fun Home” and Jiro Taniguchi’s manga “Vertraute Fremde” (“A Distant Neighborhood” in English – do read those two). Online I read Meghan O’Rourke’s essay series about grief on Slate.com (now also a book), which were helpful during the grief process. The movie version of “The English Patient” was often at the back of my mind, although I haven’t dared to watch it since then. There were a couple of songs that I listened to on repeat, which I found on youtube (Scottish/English/American folk songs, mostly). And now there is “Chucks” as well, the first book, borrowed from the University Library.

While “Chucks” had been recommended to me – without mention of the content – and “The English Patient” had been a favorite since 1996, the songs, comics, and the essay series I found completely by chance. There was no conscious seeking out of literature dealing with drawn out death or grief, so no deliberate collection development, but a strong argument for browsing – both online and in person at the library. I’m glad I had both options available to me.

Finding pieces of media online and at the library means, however, that I don’t own all of the works that helped me during that time. Until I started editing – not even writing! – this article, I didn’t really mind, since mostly I didn’t even need to read or see or listen to them after I had consumed them. The pictures, words, melodies and the feelings they evoked remained in my mind. Although there is a plan to slowly acquire them as funds allow, on the whole it was enough to know that they were there, my private collection, meant to conserve and jog my memory of that time. I thought that if somebody ever asked me: “How did it feel?”, along with telling them my own memories, I’d point to my library.

Thinking about it during the editing process, though, it struck me as funny that the issue of digital preservation would have such an impact on my Library of Death. How, after all, will future generations have access to online articles, DVDs and youtube videos? How do I solve the problem on a personal level besides buying books and cds? Do I make backups of backups of backups and arrange for storage in the cloud?

Obviously I am going to be so important that people will care about my Library of Death. Not. Who knows? If you don’t buy that, imagine an important person living and being active in the digital world today and think about what of the digital pieces of media they consume right now will remain in their estate. From the standpoint of a historian, maybe people should be encouraged to print out the internet ephemera that they find important at some time or other.

Do you have a Library of Death? Have you thought about conserving pieces of digital media that are important to you?