Books have always been a refuge of sorts for me. I grew up in a “reading” family. When I was ten I helped my mother catalogue all 1200 of her books on the computer (which ran off of DOS…uff da). Both my parents were members of book clubs. My sister and I were both reading before the first day of kindergarten. My mom used to say “You’ll never be lonely if you have a book.” Etc, etc, etc.
So it’s no wonder that I get this giddy feeling when I enter a library. I walk in and my heart races…so many possibilities! Who will be my new friend to bring home and get to know? Will I read about a specific moment in history? Or maybe a three year old girl dying of cancer? Or possibily my favorite: a sociology text? Each time before I move I research the public libraries in the town I’ll be living in: how far from my new home, how big, what kind of events do they have, do they offer ILL?
I have started visiting public libraries while on road trips as well. I was in Chicago last spring, staying at a hostel two blocks from the public library–TEN STORIES of library wonderment! I was there for over three hours, walking through the stacks, pulling books off of shelves, writing furiously a long list of books I want to read. It was awesome. Here’s a picture of Binkey in front of the library.
I must say that the library in Burlington is a let down. I expected the Fletcher Free Library to have a superb collection of books, periodicals, journals, music recordings along with national speakers coming to give lectures/chats. This is not the case. The book collection is mediocre. The building itself smells funny…not fresh and new like an unread book. But I think my biggest problem with the library is the creepy statue of a man sitting by the front door dressed in a cardigan sweater reading a book. Seriously creepy.
But back to books. It’s such a sensual experience reading a book. I love the way they feel, smell, look. They are a great escape, especially on these cold gray days in Vermont. They are great conversation starters as well as an excellent way to judge a person’s character. I believe that perusing someone’s bookshelves is better than snooping through their medicine cabinet. Are the shelves cluttered with tattered paperback copies of “classics”? Or maybe hardcover, obviously never been read self help books? Oh, dear God, maybe every space is filled with Nora Roberts and Danielle Steel?
I sometimes believe that I will find another bibliophile through my addiction to libraries and books. Maybe they will have written my new favorite sociology textbook. Or maybe we’ll both reach for the same copy of a book at the library. Or maybe we’ll make eye contact sitting at some bookstore while both reading “How to Post Interesting Blogs for Dummies”.
February 15, 2008 at 10:43 pm
Have you ever been to Brooklyn? Well, even if you have you’ve probably never visited the Pratt Institute Library. I don’t know if anyone else would feel the same, but I love that place. I used to go and just wander through the stacks, it made me feel excited and calm and happy all at the same time. The main building is old, the rooms with desks and chairs not very interesting but the stacks themselves are like a different world. They are old metal and actually serve as the structural support for the metal floors between them. (So metaphorically at least the books are holding you up, my mind could swim in that thought for hours) Plus, you can see through the floors to the stacks below you, so everywhere you look its just more books. Man, I didn’t realize how much I missed that place till I read your post… Oh, and btw…it’s a school library so if you ever try to go I think you would have to figure out how visitors can get in. (Just as a disclaimer: I’m kinda a dork and that library reminds me of another time in my life so don’t hold it against me if the real thing doesn’t live up to the hype)
February 18, 2008 at 4:04 pm
Annie, I just so happened to have read “How to Post Interesting Blogs for Dummies,” and let me tell you, it doesn’t help. If you follow the advice in it, you’ll end up posting stuff about which brand of tissues you use or how many times you blink in an hour. That was a dark, dark period in my blogging.
Anyhow, as someone who has worked in two libraries, I may have lost that giddy feeling, but I always knew that libraries were the best deal around (which in turn causes me to feel like a sucker whenever I actually buy a book).
And this is me formally requesting a picture of this creepy sweater-ed statue.
February 24, 2008 at 5:11 pm
Annie, not sure how I clicked on to this particular site from a site “This Is Me”, a site set up by a grandson for his father, my son who is married to a wonderful “Annie”, but here I am. I have not had the opportunities you seem to have had, but I, too, cherish each and every library I’ve ever been in. The head librarian of the Community College in Harrisburg, Pa., years ago, secured a copy of George Sterling’s prose poem, “Strange Waters” for me when I was unable to find it, though I searched for years. Mary from Meander With Me.