Dickens at the Morgan

The atrium

About six weeks ago, Ed and I visited the fabulous Frick Collection where we marveled both at the art on display and at the museum itself. The collection is housed in the former abode of Henry Clay Frick, an exorbitantly wealthy art collector. His home and collection were given to the public, and visitors can now wander through the rooms and ogle whichever parts of his collection happen to be on display. Though Ed and I visited in winter, it was clear that the garden would have been lovely had we come during another season (which I intend to verify in a few months). Charming as the Frick was, however it has been ousted from its position as my favorite New York museum by the Morgan Library and Museum, which Ed and I visited on Saturday to pay homage to Charles Dickens on his 200th birthday.

J.P. Morgan donated his father's, Pierpont Morgan, impressive collection to the public, as well as the library which Morgan Sr. built to house it all.  Morgan was a collector of a variety of artifacts, but was most passionate about manuscripts and early printings, so anyone who knows me can imagine how gaga I was over the very idea of the place. Ed and I walked through a very pleasant atrium and made a beeline for Dickens . It was the last weekend the exhibit was scheduled to run, and so it was crowded, but not packed. The atmosphere of the room, and of the whole museum, really, reminded me of a library. People thoughtfully read through lengthy placards and pored over the documents with quiet excitement. Among the thrilling pieces we viewed were numerous original drawings made to illustrate A Christmas Carol, David Copperfield, and The Pickwick Papers; letters from Dickens to all sorts of people, including author and playwright Wilkie Collins, who seemed to be involved in stage productions of Dickens's work; original photographs of Dickens; and handwritten manuscript pages, including (eek!) the original manuscript of A Christmas Carol! I was less bowled over by the Dead Sea Scrolls! I actually read the words, "Marley was dead: to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that," in Dickens's own handwriting, there on the very page on which they first appeared! Ed was graciously tolerant while I swooned and squealed.

The first page of A Christmas Carol - apologies for the poor image quality.

Dickens, to my disappointment, had pretty awful handwriting, so it was a bit difficult to really read much of the displayed manuscripts and letters. I suppose I wouldn't do much better if I had to write with a quill pen dipped in an ink pot. (Interestingly, Dickens switched to a variety of blue ink midway through his career that dried faster and was therefore easier to work with and read. Also on display was his traveling ink pot, which had a hinged lid that closed securely for the times when he was on the move.) Happily, he used only one side of the page, unlike Thomas Jefferson. Ed and I viewed a letter penned in Washington, D.C. by this eminent master of the epistle to his daughter back at Monticello. Though his handwriting was gorgeous, he had used both sides of the paper and the ink had bled through, making it a bit tricky to read. I had never deeply considered what an important factor handwriting would be for early authors.

To make matters worse, Dickens, and other authors whose original manuscripts I got to view (like Jane Austen and Ben Johnson) made corrections on their original drafts and did not write final copies, making the work even more difficult to decipher. Still, it was interesting to see which words were struck out and replaced, and which passages the authors had deemed unimportant enough to cross out with impatient squiggles. We saw several original musical scores, including "Morgen" by Strauss and piece by Brahms, written by hand with the notes scrawled somewhat unevenly on the page. An older man standing next to me spent a good 20 seconds shaking his head as his eyes followed the notes. Finally, he leaned back and looked at me. "No computers back then!" he remarked, and moved to another display case.

I was tempted to just curl up and read in Morgan's regal yet cozy study, which was lined with bookshelves built into red upholstered walls and adorned by portraits. I noticed that he had multiple copies of most of his books; he must have collected different editions and bindings.  But my favorite room in the museum was unquestionably Morgan's library. There were floor-level bookshelves, then two sections of bookshelves above accessible by walkways apparently reached via hidden stairways. Ed and I found a break where the bookshelves probably swung open. Morgan had shelves full of all sorts of books, including many, many Bibles, Books of Common Prayer, and even a Koran. Many of these volumes were richly decorated with gold and jewels. Paintings decorated the high ceilings. What a gorgeous room! Choice pieces from Morgan's collection were displayed in glass cases here and there.

The library. I can't wait to hand this photograph to the architect who designs my house some day. 

I could hardly wait to get to the gift shop, and it did not disappoint. There was a huge collection of beautiful tote bags bearing the covers of books on them, coffee mugs decorated with rows of books, and bookends in the shapes of animals. Of course many actual books were also available. Some were coffee table books on a variety of topics, and some, housed in a display case, were rare collectors items, costing thousands of dollars. For example, I saw a copy of the first printing of Who's Afraid of Virgnia Woolf? signed by the playwright and the original cast.

Needless to say, I recommend this gem of a museum most highly to anyone fascinated by history or titillated by the idea of seeing a snippet of Steinbeck's handwriting.