Monday, April 26, 2021

the 21st Century Genealogist: Musings on Transcriptions - and a tip ---

 Transcriptions enter the picture about week 3-4 (just kidding) of the genealogists' life.  Transcribing, currently, means taking a handwritten document, often long and/or legal and/or written under a time crunch or duress (like a diary during a war), and turning this 18th or 19th century piece of writing into typescript.  This is a useful skill.  Those in your family who you want to ooooh and aaaah about your work can read typescript.  You may even find it easier to do analytical work when you can skim the document. 

SIDEBAR: Do you remember from Upstairs, Downstairs that the person who did the typing was referred to as the Typewriter?  As in "I'll have the typewriter take care of this."   Did you ever read "Bartelby the Scrivener" by Melville (of Moby Dick fame) who was essentially human carbon paper?  He sat all day in the lawyer's office and made 2 copies of every legal document: original (written by lawyer) stayed in the office, copy 1 for party of the first part, copy 2 for party of the 2nd part. 

So transcribing/copywork has a long and august history, even though Bartleby is a bit creepy. So not too shabby.  

For the record, in April 2021, there are some prevailing conventions about transcriptions. One such convention is that each typed line will change to the next exactly where the handwrit changed, regardless that type usually takes less width than handwrit.  So... to match line length one does a hard return to move down to the next line, and then the smart/dumb computer automatically capitalizes the first word.  If you type as normal and put in the hard returns when finished typing, the auto-cap does not engage, but it is "forever" to get that right, and quite fiddly, and while I'm sure there is a command somewhere in Word to turn this "auto cap on hard return" off, I have yet to find... hence... 

My first solution was to type the first letter of each line twice, and then go back through and delete the first letter.  It works, but it is still a bit fiddly.  My current working solution is less so, and follows. 

TIP: My current workaround.... type as normal, but when done typing the last word in the handwrit line, put in a space, type some symbol not in the document (I use the straight up-down line) "|" and space again --  and proceed typing.  When done typing, go through the document and insert a hard return at the "|" so it remains the last or the first character in each line, then go through again and delete the symbol.  For what it's worth, I find it easier and faster to remove when it is the last character on the line rather than the first.  Also, one has only to remove the symbol, and not also the space after the symbol. 


MUSINGS - regarding capitals: So far, most of the documents I have transcribed are from the 19th century, with one or two from the 18th.   The capitalization in 18-19th century handwrit documents does not match current English usage. Current English capitalizes proper names, places and some other things, like "English."  By contrast, contemporary German capitalizes many (most? all?) nouns.  The more transcriptions I do, the more I wonder if the capitalization was to increase readibility, especially when the handwrit was done rapidly and without modern fountain pens.   I use a fountain pen, and when writing rapidly, my script takes on characteristics that I see in 19th century handwrit.  My lowercase 'r' resembles a 'v'; in 'the' the cross of the 't' starts the loop of the 'h' and the 'e' is often not rounded enough to be open.  My last name, Ross, as I sign it, could be read as Rorr, Ron, or Roir, but if we still used the 'long s' as the first 's' when there is a double 's', my last name, Ross, would be perfectly clear. And I use a well machined fountain pen with a rounded nib.  I have played at writing with a steel nib.  The shape of that nib does not want to make rounded shapes.  Have a look at the signatures in county histories under the etchings of the notables. 

I am not advocating returning the double 's' to duty, but rather considering the forest. I hypothesize that using many capitals increased comprehension of handwrit; lowercase e, i, and a can be close, not so with uppercase.  Ditto with 'nu' vs. 'mi.'  Computer wordprocessing is a medium with electronically controlled shapes, which are not affected by the force, speed or angle of the key strike.  The benefit of capitalization in handwrit is tied to the medium, rather than to the message.  

This modification would not change any spelling or punctuation, which would remain identical to the handwrit, but instead of copying every capitalization, transcriptions would apply current English norms: "the barn, and two hundred cattle" rather than "the Barn and Two hundred Cattle."

Archers do not dress as 15th century English, though they do wear a leather guard on their off arm.  The guard is tied to the action, the dress is just that, the dressing of that time and place.


TA

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on other shores --- due to covid I purchased a zoom basic account.  Necessary for my work, it also has had a lovely unintended consequence.  My two brothers live west coast and east coast; I am in Chicago.  For months we have been zooming every two weeks.  Short, long, with topics all over the map.  We have more chatting with zoom than pre-zoom. Before covid we saw each other only at Thanksgiving.  


Tuesday, April 20, 2021

Genealogy as a Who Dun It...

.............Follow da Money

Where is the money?   Historically (and in New York & Tokyo) the money is in the land, not in the skill.  Visit Plymouth Plantation, and the residents will tell you, almost to a man, that they are farmers, and "oh, I shoe horses when needed" or "I build furniture when it's needed."  
        And with the money in the land, how does land change hands?  Inheritance, marriage, "sale" to family, and, way down in the list of choices, sale to non-family.

A number of years ago, I was downstate Illinois to research both land and probate records.  Working in the courthouse in an age when everyone was much more relaxed about access to records, I was shown the stairs to the basement, and told that probate was to the right and land to the left.... and please turn the light out when I came up.  

The difference between the probate side and the land side was amazing, and made perfect sense when thought about for more than one second.  All probate records were dead records; everything in those records had been settled, and if a question arose, looking for the answer could take time, and taking time would not be an issue.  

On the other hand, literally, land records were current; these records were a deposit ticket which described their assets. Anyone in the county might need to get a record from yesterday or 15 years ago to 'do something' with the piece of land described on that piece of paper.   

Probate was the archive.  Land was the tickler file. 
        As a consequence, the probate side was, to put it mildly, quite untidy.  On the land side, you could almost eat off the floor, and all the books were "just so." 


    TA

ps - I'm told that how you find out I've posted is changing in July.  I will pursue, but right now this is a bit fuzzy how or what I need to do.  The main thing is, I am not stopping writing, so if it seems I disappear, I've not!  And it seems the address is still the same. Thanks for coming by and reading. 

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on the other side - The country has crossed the one year mark with Covid last month.  My time has gone into education, lots of education, via zoom, as courses pivoted (great word, right?) from live to on-line, and then worked again to add options to all the people itchy in their living rooms without travel to research.  Starting to look forward to life after lockdown, but it's shape isn't in anyway clear.

Sunday, April 18, 2021

"You Can Never Know Another Person's Why"

 Long ago and far away, my high school decided that being modern would be served by dividing the year of English into 3 (or was it 4?) units, each with a different topic and taught by a different teacher. I only remember nuggets from one, "I know what I like," taught by Mr. Holbrook.  

One of few gray-haired teachers, he taught this mix-master class during his first year at the school. He had been a journalist for many years, and indeed, he also guided yearbook and newspaper staffs, imparting real-world skills.

As the class stumbled through debating "I know what I like" (aka "developing aesthetics," a totally unappealing title for teens) while discussing short stories and essays, he would toss out one liners.  If  ears were open and brains switched on, these bon mots plopped down front and center until assimilated. Perhaps these were his version of a koan. What is more important in a white horse? its whiteness or its horse-ness?

Holbrook comments -- in no particular order  -- 

"All of you watch too much TV," was thrown out as an aside one day when we were up and heading for the door. I hung around and asked why he said "all of you" because he didn't really know us that well.  His return. "If I had said, 'Some of you watch too much TV,' everyone would put themselves in the section that didn't watch too much TV.  By saying 'all,' each of you will think, even if just for a moment, 'Do I watch too much TV?' and that's the object, to get you thinking."  Hmmmm.

Several times during the quarter, the discussion veered into theft, embezzlement and other kinds of stealing.  His comment, "Don't talk to me about anything less than $100,000 as my share of the take. If I'm going to jail, it's going to be for a big amount."  OK.   

He mentioned his many geographic moves as a journalist.  A bunch of military kids, we were not impressed.  Older than most of our parents, he claimed he was never concerned about keeping his job. "I was looking for a job when I found this one." Interesting & surprised. 

He also talked about teaching. I must have asked why he wasn't bothered by the line of students sitting with their backs to the wall, not talking, not listening, etc.  For him, a class of 30 divided into three groups: 5-7 students who were bumps on a log, 3-5 who would learn without a teacher, and 22 who were at various points, needed a teacher and wanted to learn.  He said that many teachers taught to the bumps, spending much of the class time engaging with them. He believed that wasn't fair to the class.  He said he always taught to that middle group, but every so often would throw out something to invite the 5-7 bumps to bestir themselves and join in, and more often he would throw out a comment or observation to challenge the 3-5 who were yawning (inside if not outside).  Again, interesting. 

His biggest toss out has rattled around my brain for decades, constantly informs my genealogical work and is the title of this piece, the concern about "why."  I suspect the discussion started with an examination of the actions and motivations of a character in some short story.  As the exchange progressed, Holbrook tossed out the observation, "You can never know another person's 'why,' because knowing that would require mind-reading skills." He added that the questions you answer in a news article are "who, what, when, where, why and how," but in journalism the why is not any manner of mind-reading, but examining the situation from the outside and telling the "what of the what" or "what made the what possible."  The window broke (what happened) caused by a hurricane which came through town  (why the window could break) or the dog was lost (what happened) because the door was left open  (why the dog could be lost). Simplistic examples but decent illustrations. 

So... when I hear younger genealogists (time doing, not age) voicing "Why did Frances move from Ohio to Minnesota in 1910?" or "Why did Charles strike off by himself in 1850 and go from Oklahoma to California?"  I quietly smile to myself.   Often the question can be reworded into a question that can be answered by examing matters observable, such as, "How were Ohio and Minnesota different?" or "What did California offer a single man from Oklahoma in 1850?  Those questions can be answered with paper, and maps, and newspaper articles. No crystal balls required. 

Sometimes circumstances and hints suggest a motivation, but given the complexity of life, cause and effect are rarely clearcut. Journals & letters often include what purport to be motivations, but the caution comes from psychologists who remind that we may not know our own whys.  

What's the take-away?  First, keep thinking and wondering and learning.  Second, remember that you can never know another person's why. Go for the paper. (and cite...of course cite).


TA... 

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this blog got to mature, like a fine wine... so did the p.s. --- on other shores: we celebrated Christmas, but couldn't see friends at church.  the tree is small and lovely. the stockings are still hanging on a bureau in the living room, our stand in for a fireplace.  Santa knew there will still be months of staying in and dropped off 3 jigsaw puzzles with travel themes.  Also books.

In past years, this week between Christmas and New Year was the change-over week.  Stow the old paper and hang empty labeled files for the new.  This year...not so much.  

I spin and knit for calm and for product, but finished items and skeins were fewer in 2020. Time went into writing and sorting my computer.  I and the alphabet will prevail.  (think of a spare room.  Open the door, toss stuff in, close the door.  That was almost my computer).

Time also went into walking the My Mission virtual challenges.  While waiting for my DAR bling, I have walked the Camino de Santiago, swum the English Channel, and climbed Mt. Fuji, all virtually with circuits in the house.  Now I am walking Hadrian's Wall from east to west.  It's a bit silly, and also fun.  For every 20% of a mission's mileage completed, the organization plants a tree. Every so often they send postcards of what you would see if really there, and at the end you are sent a rather impressive medal and a certificate (suitable for framing).