I had something somewhere about class differences in the words used to
describe this stuff: middle class "bric-a-brac" vs. lower-class "jumble" if
I remember correctly, but can't remember where I stored it (might have been
in Orwell, but I'd have to check); anyway, here are some bits, hope they're
of some use:


[pre-bric-a-brac] A dusty urn at each high corner, dug up from an ancient
tomb, preached desolation and decay, as from two pulpits (Dickens 2002: 53)

The room altogether was full of knick-knacks, which must take a long time to
dust; and time to people of limited income was money (Gaskell 1994: 111)

[Victorian ornament] Every corner seemed filled up with ornament, until it
became a weariness to the eye, and presented a strange contrast to the bald
ugliness of the look-out into the great mill-yard (Gaskell 1994: 189)

[junk shops] Its finest treasures are never discoverable at first glimpse;
they have to be sorted out from among a medley of bamboo cake-stands,
Britannia-ware dish-covers, turnip watches, dog-eared books, ostrich eggs,
typewriters of extinct makes, spectacles without lenses, decanters without
stoppers, stuffed birds, wire fire guards, bunches of keys, boxes of nuts
and bolts, conch shells from the Indian Ocean, boot trees, Chinese ginger
jars and pictures of Highland cattle (Orwell 2002: 983)

[paper-weights] There are others that have a piece of coral enclosed in the
glass, but these are always fantastically expensive. Or you may come across
a scrap book full of Victorian fashion-plates and pressed flowers or even,
if you are exceptionally lucky, the scrap book's big brother, a scrap screen
(Orwell 2002: 984)

But the attraction of the junk shop does not lie solely in the bargains you
pick up, nor even in the aesthetic value which - at a generous estimate - 5
per cent of its contents may possess. Its appeal is to the jackdaw inside
all of us, the instinct that makes a child hoard copper nails, clock
springs, and the glass marbles out of lemonade bottles. To get pleasure out
of a junk shop you are not obliged to buy anything, nor even to want to buy
anything (Orwell 2002: 985)

Our basic concept of "Victorian" includes images of soot-blackened
buildings, cold interior spaces lined with dark wood, chipping paint,
peeling wallpaper, and shelves of dusty bric-a-brac (Gould 1995: 240)

Our smugness about progress leads us to view any contrary vision from the
past as barbarous. Thus, when modernism espoused simple geometries with
unornamented and functional spaces, the Victorian love of busy exuberance
became a focus of pity and derision (Gould 1995: 241)

The Victorians, who viewed their museums as microcosms for national goals of
territorial expansion and faith in progress fueled by increasing knowledge,
tried to stuff every last specimen into their gloriously crowded cabinets -
in order to show the full range and wonder of global diversity (Gould 1995:
243)


REFERENCES CITED

Dickens, C.
2002 Dombey and Son. Wordsworth, Ware, Hertfordshire.
Gaskell, E.
1994 North and South. Penguin, London.
Gould, S. J.
1995 Cabinet Museums: Alive, Alive, O! In Dinosaur in a Haystack:
Reflections in Natural History, edited by Gould, S. J., pp. 238-247. Three
Rivers Press, New York.
Orwell, G.
2002 Just Junk - But Who Could Resist It? In Essays, edited by Carey, J.,
pp. 983-985. Alfred A. Knopf, New York.

-----Original Message-----

Geoff,
I am always looking for more primary references, and the primary 
material on bric-a-brac is often very rich, so by all means please send 
me along something in whatever form is easiest for you.  I have a fair 
amount of references in household manuals and etiquette guides, and a 
bunch in traveler's accounts (albeit mostly people traveling in the 
American South), so expanding on that material will make the argument 
potentially work in a transatlantic context, and my long-range goal is 
to use some excavated materials from the UK and US alike.  Let me know 
what I can do to minimize any hassles for you.