I come from a family of packrats. The message of “Don’t
throw that out; it might come in handy some day!” is so ingrained in me that I
have to consciously stop and think about whether, realistically, I will ever need that particular thing, and
under what circumstances that need might possibly arise. Growing up, I could
come home and announce, “ I need a zorgleflutz for school on Thursday”, and my
dad would disappear into the basement. After some rummaging and occasional
crashing noises, he would emerge, vintage model zorgleflutz in hand. I thought
this was normal.
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| This is not my parents' basement, but it is remarkably similar |
My parents were not hoarders – they just had a lot of stuff.
They had subscriptions to a number of magazines, and of course you wouldn’t
throw those out (especially in the days before recycling). My mom taught for a
number of years, and had novels and supplies which had been in her classroom.
My dad, an inveterate builder and tinkerer, had every hand tool, nail, screw,
and fastener that he might need for any job, from minor household repairs to
the manufacture of a space-worthy vehicle. (Okay, the last thing was an
exaggeration. But there was an asphalt temperature gauge which had been
recalibrated to measure normal outside temperatures. And Ken did find a package
of 40 year old road flares in a basement cupboard. Ignition was always an
option.).
I had/have older parents than most people my age; both of
them had lived through the Depression, which I think had the effect of taking a
normally practical and frugal nature and pushing into the next level of
waste-not. My dad, as a city-dweller, may not have been as affected. My mom,
although a young child during that period, lived on a farm on the prairies. So,
yes, you kept that whatever it was, because you really might not be able to get
or afford another. Even if you never needed it again, your neighbour might. And
you could just shove it into one of the outbuildings if you didn’t want it in
the house. Substitute ‘basement’ for ‘outbuildings’ and you pretty much have the
house I grew up in.
And then there were the family heirlooms and mementos. These
are mainly from my mom’s side of the family, and almost solely from her
mother’s family. Everyone else (her father, my dad’s parents) immigrated to
Canada and had to deal with the associated luggage capacity limits. I find what
people choose to keep and pass on to others as heirlooms really fascinating.
And this isn’t a new thing. There are loads of archaeological examples of
anachronistic items, often pottery, some obviously having been repaired
multiple times, being found at sites. In these cases, the traditional call of
the archaeologist (“It’s ritual!”) is sometimes heard. However, these
deliberately curated items (yes, same term as used for museum collections) tend
to be found in household, rather than in formal ritual settings. The general
conclusion is that these things were the ancient equivalent of the good china
or the ancestral portraits.
As to what was designated for curation and why….the short
answer is that no one knows. Not all heirlooms are valuable or expensive. Value
tends to be in the eye of the beholder and not necessarily obvious to anyone
else. It may not even be consciously obvious to the beholder. I realized this
recently as I repaired, for about the 10th time, a small vase depicting
a Chinese zodiac animal (not my zodiac animal, either) that I probably paid
about $5 for 15 years ago at Folkfest. I like the pattern of the glaze, the
tiger painted on it is cute, and it’s the perfect size to hold my peacock
feather….is it really worth all the repair jobs? Apparently.
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| Fetishized? |
Some researchers refer to an object’s designation as
something worth keeping and passing down, and its subsequent elevation in
status as ‘fetishization’ (archaeologists do love ritual references). A thing that
might have been a common object, used every day, becomes almost an object of
worship or veneration. Some people who study this sort of thing suggest that it
is because that thing represents a past event or individual whose memory people
are trying to hold onto. Others believe that the object is seen as somehow
imbued with the essence of the person who originally selected or owned the object.
Passing the object on to others is often a matter of deciding who would be best
able to appreciate the object’s significance, and therefore the best curator.
I saw this played out in my own family many times. “When I’m
gone, make sure Toots doesn’t get the (insert object here)!” This was
from my maternal grandmother, the last remaining of nine children, with only
one child of her own, but many nieces and nephews. I didn’t know much about
Toots (a niece), except that apparently she was not at all trustworthy in terms
of properly looking after great-grandmother’s bone-handled knives.
Ironically, my grandmother outlived anyone who might
possibly have claimed any family heirlooms. So, everything went to live at my
parents’ house. In the basement, of course.
