The Ink-Pot and the Palette

Have been involved over the last day or so in the discovery and revelation of a hoohah over an esteemed bibliographer having copped to having fabricated a set of letters, of which the transcriptions appear on their website, with, true, a provenance note that might give one to be a tad cautious when citing.

But anyway, someone I know did actually cite something from one of these letters - fortunately not as a major pillar of an argument or anything like that - in their book which is only just published (and copy of which for review I finally received last week). And was informed by the perpetrator.

Cue kerfuffle. The ebook can be readily corrected but not the hardback copies.

But anyway, this led to me (particularly given subject and period) to think upon an instance I had encountered of learning - from the author no less - that a series of supposedly authentic Victorian erotic novels had been knocked up (perhaps that is not the phrase one should employ?) as remunerated hackwork for a paperback publisher in the 1990s.

A few of these are now accessible via the Internet Archive and I discover that they have introductions setting them up as Orfentik Discoveries of the writings of a Private Gents Club.

Anyway, I wrote this all up for my academic blog, and there has been discussion on bluesky about hoaxes and fakes and also I introduced the topic of people being misled by fictional pastiches that were not meant to mislead (or at least, like 'Cleone Knox''s work, have long been known to be made up).

(Ern Malley complicates this like whoa, since it has been claimed that the authors of the hoax actually produced SRS surrealist poetry whether they meant to or not.)

And as a scholar and an archivist I am against hoaxes and fakes and people inserting false documents into archives and so on -

- but I still have the occasional qualm that some naive reader will not read the disclosure of the real origin story right at the back of the volumes and think that the Journals of Mme C-, subsequently Lady B-, actually exist.

Dr rdrz may have noticed that (in spite of the FAIL at getting to the Birmingham workshop in early May) I have gradually been Getting Out Into the World beyond health-related appointments and walks in the local parks.

Am still being possibly unwontedly cautious.

But, anyway, on Saturday went to a BBQ in coughingbear and hano's garden - slightly earlier this year than the usual Mahv'll'ss Pahti of the summer - and it was lovely to see them and other friends after so long being A Hermit.

Still (as found at conference the other week) having issues adjusting to the hearing aids - when there are several conversations happening - I think this possibly depends a bit on where I am positioned in relation to them - a distinct sense of (very dating reference) trying to tune in radio and getting two or more overlapping stations.

But on the whole was, I think, Coping.

This week's bread: a Standen loaf, 4:1 Strong Brown/buckwheat flour, with maple syrup (last drain from bottle) instead of honey and Rayner's Malt Extract. V nice.

During the course of the week I made Famous Aubergine Dip to take to a BBQ.

Saturday breakfast rolls: adaptable soft rolls recipe: approx 70/30% wholemeal/white spelt flour, Rayner's Malt Extract, dried cranberries, not bad.

Also made foccacia to take to BBQ.

Today's lunch: sweet potato gratin with black olive tapenade (as there were sweet potatoes left over from last week), served with warm green bean and fennel salad (I did use tarragon vinegar but I think this had rather lost its oomph) and baby green pak choi stirfried with garlic.

Walkouts, feuds and broken friendships: when book clubs go bad. I don't think I've ever been in a book club of this kind. Many years ago at My Place Of Work there used to be an informal monthly reading group which would discuss some work of relevance to the academic mission of the institution, very broadly defined, and that was quite congenial, and I am currently in an online group read-through and discussion of A Dance to the Music of Time, but both these have rather more focus perhaps? certainly I do not perceive that they have people turning up without having reading the actual books....

Mind you, I am given the ick, and this is I will concede My Garbage, by those Reading Group Suggestions that some books have at the end, or that were flashed up during an online book group discussion of a book in which I was interested.

Going to book groups without Doing The Reading perhaps goes under the heading of Faking It, which has been in the news a lot lately (I assume everybody has heard about The Salt Roads thing): and here are a couple of furthe instances:

(This one is rather beautifully recursive) What if every artwork you’ve ever seen is a fake?:

Many years ago, I met a man in a pub in Bloomsbury who said he worked at the British Museum. He told me that every single item on display in the museum was a replica, and that all the original artefacts were locked away in storage for preservation.
....
Later, Googling, I discovered that none of what the man had told me was true. The artefacts in the British Museum are original, unless otherwise explicitly stated. It was the man who claimed to work there who was a fake.

This one is more complex, and about masquerade and fantasy as much as 'hoax' perhaps: The schoolteacher who spawned a Highland literary hoax

This is not so much about fakery but about areas of doubt: We still do not understand family resemblance which suggests that GENES are by no means the whole story.

For the first time in forever I have been making The Famous Aubergine Dip (the vegan version with Vegan Worcestershire Sauce, I discovered the bottle I had was use by ages ahead, yay). This required me acquiring aubergines from The Local Shops. There is now, on the corner where there used to be an estate agent (and various other things before that) a flower shop that also sells fruit and vegetables, and they had Really Beautiful, 'I'm ready for my close-up Mr deMille', Aubergines, it was almost a pity to chop them up and saute them.

A little while ago I mentioned being solicited to Give A Paper to a society to which I have spoken (and published in the journal of) heretofore. Blow me down, they have come back suggesting the topic I suggested - thrown together in a great hurry before dashing off to conference last week - is Of Such Significance pretty please could I give the keynote???

Have been asked to be on the advisory board for a funded research project.

A dance in the old dame yet, I guess.