#261: Stolen Objects
Do irretrievable objects have a future?
I have recently returned from a visit to the city of Bergen in Norway, but while I and most of my stuff have returned, one of my silver hoop earrings did not.
I have written about lost objects before, but those were objects that still had a hope of being found – they were temporarily misplaced, rather than lost forever. But I have no hope of ever finding this earring, because it likely fell off into one of the busy streets of Bergen, blending in with the cobbles.
This wasn’t an important earring, just a cheap Claire’s purchase when I was probably about 13 years old. It has some fun memories, but those are not the focus of this Object post. What I’m interested in today is the unknown potential future of this and all other irretrievable objects.
When I sat on the plane back from Bergen and did a mental check that I had everything, I remembered the lost earring I am very unlikely to recover. I started to wonder – has someone found it? Will someone take it home and wear it as a single earring, or will it sit in the gutter and rust? Will it be repurposed, perhaps? Is there a future life for that other half of the pair, or has it lost all purpose?
As I pondered the potential future (or demise) of my earring, I remembered the tour we had been given in the Bergen Historical Museum during my trip. I was expecting a standard tour of the museum’s artefacts, but we arrived to find that in August 2017, the museum had been burgled – and to this day many of their Viking Age artefacts are still missing. What followed was a museum tour like no other: an exhibition on stolen objects, presenting their very recent history.
Since the burglary many objects have been returned, but a large number remain lost, and they have ‘wanted posters’ available in the museum, displaying the missing objects. My lost earring, and its unknown future, made me think of the unknown present and future of the still-lost objects. Their new lives in the hands of new owners are unknown, becoming a source of persistent curiosity.
The museum curators wonder and worry about their remaining lost objects. Those that have been returned contain their own mysteries, as they were not returned in perfect condition — some were glued together or broken apart, as though those people who took them were playing some sort of arts and crafts with objects that have centuries of history. What has happened to those not yet found? Are they, like my earring, rusting away in a gutter somewhere? Are they being worn by someone in their day to day life, oblivious to its history, or fully aware? No one knows, and we are likely to continue not knowing.
The history of objects is a fascinating mystery. They contain stories which simultaneously outlive single human lives, and are lost in seconds, because we are not always able to know them. Which begs the question: if we don’t know an object’s story, does that mean its story no longer exists? Or does it simply mean that its story is waiting to be discovered? Such a conundrum is central to the work of historians and archaeologists, as they continually question the potential past, present, and future of the objects of history. Perhaps one day, the future history of these stolen objects will be known.
Katie writes regularly about random objects that she finds in her everyday life. If you’re interested in reading more, check out her blog Object, a collaboration with fellow Medium blogger Eleanor. You can also follow us on Twitter at@ObjectBlog.
