The Archivist’s Nook: Robert T. Meyer – “Bespectacled Linguist” and Friend of J.R.R. Tolkien

Robert Theodore Meyer was born August 6, 1911, third-generation in a lineage of farmers, in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio. He grew up working on the farm milking animals, taking care of the garden, eating cherry tomatoes, and rising well before the sun. Some of Meyer’s earliest memories recall his “one-room red school house”, which was often closed by the Pastor for fear “strong winds would blow it down” [1]. Meyer’s introduction to classical linguistics– a subject which would become the passionate pursuit of his life– began during his time at Saint Ignatius High School where he took four years of Latin and three years of Greek. Meyer’s upbringing was of the humble, blue-collar sort; as such, he did not come from money and instead entered academia with unflinching stamina, passion, and a dream.

Written on the back of this photo: “μέγα βιβλίον, μέγα κακόν” (Big book, big evil) describing how this massive volume was stolen from Meyer on the CUA campus in 1967 and never returned.

His dreams would come to fruition. Dr. Meyer graduated from John Carroll University in Ohio where he earned his master’s degree in classical languages and philology (1934). He earned his doctorate at the University of Michigan in classics and Indo-European linguistics (1943). At CUA, he served as a Professor of Celtic and Comparative Philology from 1947-1976 and was a leading scholar on early writers of the Christian Church. While serving as a Professor, Dr. Meyer also held The Order of Hibernians Chair in Celtic Studies. In the summer of 1970, Meyer was a visiting lecturer in Celtic studies at Oxford, Harvard, and Cambridge University; lectured on such subjects as: Anglo-Saxon literary analysis, Old Irish, English philology, German philology, comparative philology; and served as assistant editor of the Middle English Dictionary. In 1971, Robert T. Meyer became a permanent Ordained Deacon of the Archdiocese of Washington, D.C. In 1976, Dr. Meyer became Emeritus Professor of Celtic Studies. Like many fervent scholars, he continued to lecture well beyond his retirement [2].

Dr. Meyer writes a Cornish saying in white chalk: “Too long a tongue, too short a hand. The tongueless man though, lost his land.” (circa 1961.)

In what is perhaps the best depiction of Dr. Meyer’s personality I could find, the author of The Washington Post’s article Ancient Cornish Tongue Revived [3] remarks on the quirky professor’s demeanor during their interview: Dr. Meyer, “the stocky, bespectacled linguist, [who was] somewhat wistfully flipping the pages of a deteriorating copy of the 15th-century Cornish miracle play Gwreans arbys … is [a] true scholar who is wholly absorbed in the joy of his work, never happier than when he is leading [students] through intricate ways of comparative Indo-European grammar” [4]. 

“A poster for a talk given by Dr. Meyer about his friendship with Tolkien. A reproduction of his notes for the talk can be found at the Catholic University archives.”

If we consider, for a moment, who else was an ardent student of classical linguistics around the same time as Robert T. Meyer’s visits to Oxford, we arrive at a famously known friendship of Meyer’s– that of J. R. R. Tolkien. In 1979, Meyer hosted a lecture at CUA titled: My Reminisces of J.R.R. Tolkien. Unsurprisingly, Tolkien was a bizarre fellow. Meyer’s recollections offer a rare window into the author’s life, quirks, and apparently frequent irritations. Tolkien was, to loosely paraphrase Meyer, not the imagined, dreamy, prototype of the Oxford professor. Tolkien “hated driving” and didn’t buy his first vehicle until after age 40. According to Meyer, no one —especially while in a crowd— is safe when Tolkien was behind the wheel. Regardless of who or what was in his path, the author would drive onward yelling “charge!” effectively scattering the pestilent phenomenon known as pedestrians.  Meyer recalls one occasion where Tolkien “reportedly knocked down a stone wall” in one such driving incident. Tolkien would give visitors five minutes “to have their say”. After that, an alarm would bellow and Tolkien would remove himself. Meyer made sure he “only talked about three minutes at one sitting with the scholar”… lest he overstep [5]. Robert T. Meyer’s collection at the CUA archives is an important and unusual archive for Tolkienist scholarship. 

50 years of Robert T. Meyer’s journals (1932-1983).

The Robert T. Meyer Collection consists of 22 boxes– ranging from letters to friends and family, photographs, publications, manuscripts, successful grants and scholarships, denied grants and scholarships, travel ephemera, every postcard he’d ever received, 50 years of nearly-full journals, publications, editorial work, financial documentation, love letter(s?), identification, a J.R.R. Tolkien lecture manuscript & retro flyer, and a certain five-page document. I would like to finish with this five-page document as I believe it shows the kind of remarkable, one-of-a-kind, professor Dr. Meyer was. From 1947 to 1980, Dr. Meyer kept a list titled: “My Students Who Made Good” (document in image carousel below). At the end of the long bulleted list, he writes: “There you have them, only a fraction of those with whom I have kept in touch. Take them as they are, teachers, priests, directors of religious house, librarians, business men, deans of colleges, a chancellor of a university, missionaries, high school teachers, chaplains, a member of a state legislature, presidents of colleges, archivists, writers, diocesan tribunal workers, government workers, some still working for an advanced degree but have already shown high promise”. 

Robert T. Meyer would pass away a few short years after wrapping up this decades-long list. In 1987 at age 76, Meyer’s life came to an end in Swansea, Wales following a conference at Oxford University. He was survived by the love of his life Mrs. Dorothy Deex Meyer, two daughters, two sons, and three grand-children. 

The author of this blog post is honored to share the former CUA professor Dr. Meyer’s legacy. 

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[1] CUA Alumnus Summer 1995, p.12.

[2] Robert T. Meyer – Curriculum Vitae, Harpers Ferry, W. VA. September 1, 1981. 

[3] The Washington Post, Ancient Cornish Tongue Revived, August 19, 1961.

[4] CUA Alumnus Summer 1995, p.12.

[5] ‘Lord of the Rings’ Author Led Eccentric Life Style, Pocatello, Idaho – Idaho State Journal, Dec. 1, 1978

The Archivist’s Nook: Images to Inspire – The Accidental Invention of Lithography

Picture of the Sacred Heart of Mary, “NMC 609.29”, c. 1860.

One cannot get far in any museum or archive before encountering a lithograph print. In the case of the Catholic University of America’s Special Collections, you need not look further than our office walls in Aquinas Hall to see examples of such a familiar, kitschy, art style. From the unknown artists behind recognizable Catholic images (like the Sacred Heart of Mary pictured here) to Salvador Dali’s “The Biblia Sacra” 1963 series, lithographs have been ubiquitous in religious households since the turn of the century. Even though many of us have seen these prints, we may not be able to recognize or know, truly: What is a lithograph? 

The word “Lithograph” marries two classical Greek words: λίθος (lithos) or “stone” + γράφω (grapho) – the word “[to] write”. Simply put, lithography is a print-making process where a design is drawn onto a stone and transferred to paper by means of a chemical reaction. Accidentally invented in 1796 by German playwright Johann Alois Senefelder, lithography quickly became a success among contemporaries as it generated a new, more affordable, method for print production. Senefelder’s invention spurred from his realization that he could make copies of his scripts by writing his words on limestone with greasy wax crayons, then imprinting the words on a piece of paper. Limestone retains ink quite well; and, as a result, it makes an excellent medium for creating numerous prints from a single image. The playwright’s invention was originally associated with printing theater scripts, then music, maps, until finally establishing its mass adoption in the art world. Famous artists like Pablo Picasso and Andy Warhol later incorporated this technique into what became perhaps some of the most recognized lithographs in the world.

“This House is Consecrated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus”. Currier & Ives lithographic print. “NMC 2560.48” c. 1880s.

Lithography dominated as a printmaking medium between 1820 and 1860. Replacing the
copper engraving machine, Lithography was quickly adopted by the changing American economy during the later part of the Industrial Revolution. The dissemination of these affordable images supplied the still slow-crawl of a literate public with an opportunity to engage with and experience their religiosity outside of church alone. Now, artwork was available to the lower-class families to adorn their homes with Mary’s sacred heart, powerful biblical images, Jesus’ sacred heart, and so on. The eventual globalization of Catholic art “flourished in its many lithographic prints” creating “images that could at once teach, persuade, and inspire devotion”(1).

These black and white or hand-colored prints are not to be confused with chromolithography which was developed in 1837— forty years after Alois’ patent. Although Alois had introduced the subject of coloured lithography in his 1818 “Vollstaendiges Lehrbuch der Steindruckerey” (A Complete Course of Lithography), printmakers in other regions were eager to do the same. Ultimately, Godefroy Engelmann was credited as the inventor of Chromolithography in July of 1837; although, there is room for debate (2). A type of lithography, Chromolithography dramatically improved upon the original black and white artistic limitations of its predecessor. Strictly speaking, a chromolithograph is a colored image printed by many applications of lithographic stones, each using a different color ink (if only one or two tint stones are used, the print is called a “tinted lithograph”) (3). The chromolithographic layering process (done well) can cheaply create images resembling lavishly expensive oil paintings.

The Catholic University of America’s lithograph collection has both classic devotional images as well as some rarer lithographs depicting historic and hallowed figures such as: Daniel O’Connell, The Most Rev. M. J. Spalding D. D. / Archbishop of Baltimore, The Apostle of Ireland, St. Patrick, Pope Pius IX, Pope Leo XIII, and St. Jean / Sn. Juan. We encourage you to look through the gallery below to see selected lithographs held here in our special collections.

 

Click here to see a step-by-step “how to create a lithograph” courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

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Sources:

  1. https://smarthistory.org/reframing-art-history/sacred-baroque-catholic-world/
  2. Ferry, Kathryn. “Printing the Alhambra: Owen Jones and Chromolithography.” Architectural History 46(2003): 175–188.
  3. https://antiqueprintsblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/chromolithography.html
  4. http://dixieartcolony.org/2021/02/11/doris-alexander-thompson-press-2/
  5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chromolithography