Archives, Intimacy, Embodiment: Encountering the Sound Subject in the Literary Archive

It is february 2022. I am working in Special Collections and Rare Books at Simon Fraser University (sfu), newly reopened after a long closure due to the global covid-19 pandemic. It is my first time physically in an archive since well before March 2020 when most physical institutional spaces were closed as part of widespread public health measures. The space is quiet and quite warm, as the entire floor is enclosed, externally enveloped in a white waterproof, protective membrane defending against the pervasive Vancouver rain. This makes the space feel even more alien and isolated from the rest of campus, which itself is much quieter than usual due to the pandemic. The microclimate is womblike and slightly oppressive in its lack of air circulation; a pervasive sense of stillness and envelopment heightens the experience of being in this space. These effects dramatize my activity in the chambers of the collections and allows for a sense of sharpened focus. I am looking at the Lisa Robertson fonds in person for the first time. More importantly, I am listening in the Lisa Robertson fonds for the first time. The addition of sonic, vocal layers in the form of sound recordings to an archival collection contributes meaningfully to what Linda Morra calls the “affective economies” (after Sara Ahmed) of the archive, which are Archives, Intimacy, Embodiment: Encountering the Sound Subject in the Literary Archive