Why Libraries?
I ran across this blog post this week called Hot Library Smut, which featured a collection of pictures of the most beautiful libaries in the world. We have a lovely library here in Perth, and even though it’s in a different country from the one in which I grew up, it’s much the same.
Those of us who like books, why is it we like libraries so much more than bookstores? I find they have something that bookstores lack, even without the Starbucks.
Upon reflection, I think it’s partly memories, and partly ambiance. As a kid, and once or twice as an adult, libraries have been a refuge: a place I could get away from, well, from anything. In libraries, people give you a good leaving alone. You can read book after book without people glancing at you askance. (I know some read entire books in Barnes and Noble, but that doesn’t feel the same to me at all.)
If you need help finding something, librarians are even bigger wordies than you are. They love to help. Bless their cotton socks, they get all atwitter about it. It’s beautiful to see people love something so much.
You know the scene in action movies where the hero runs into a church and depositing some person says to the priest, “Look after her.” The priest nods gravely, and a mystical power protects that person from everything from the mob to the Creature from the Black Lagoon. In the movie which is my life, the setting would not be a church, but a library. I’d trust those fierce, book-loving librarians to watch my back any day.
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I’d trust those fierce, book-loving librarians to watch my back any day.
Have you read any Discworld novels?
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never got into libraries like I should have, even though I love reading and the library offered me the opportunity to read for free.
Maybe it was all the school projects where we had to go to the library and do research and write bibliographies. That sucked.
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It’s the atmosphere, definitely! Libraries have such a marvellous air of “punditry”, of bookishness and, yes, a feeling of endless worlds incorporated in them. A multiverse of possibilities, stories, lives, emotions, all inside these endless rows of books. Were I entirely free to rebuilt my flat (I’m not, have to make concessions) I’d cover every wall with bookcases, floor to ceiling.
I’d trust those fierce, book-loving librarians to watch my back any day.
Never, ever mess with a librarian. One of my old school-friends is one and she’s evil – positively lethal when angered. Do as you’re told and follow the Dewey decimal system. It’s much safer.
Our local library here is dull and has PCs right in the middle, which ruins the atmosphere. Under-10s playing web games and shouting every five minutes. Lovely. Give me the British Library any time – not only is it beautiful (great photo), but the atmosphere is perfect…
I love libraries! It was the best feeling in the world, coming home with a plastic bag full of books. And it still is!
Thanks for this wonderful post. It brought back some great memories. When I was a child we had a bookmobile that parked three doors down from my house. It wasn’t beautiful like many libraries, just a small converted bus. But every other week they came like clockwork. I think it was my favorite library of all times.
I could go on, but I won’t. Not in a reply to your wonderful piece. But now I have the bug to expand on those memories in a post of my own. Thanks again!
I agree about the library vans, Lulu. We had one that visited the village I grew up in. Ten year old me loved it. One of the things I miss since becoming a parent is being able to spend large amounts of time in libraries and book shops. Not the same when you have nappies and feeds to worry about.
I know this is a little late, but I’ve only just found your marvelous blog.
I’ve enjoyed my visit so far!
Right around the corner from my mother’s house, the one I grew up in, is a small library, old enough to have that classic wood look to it. There’s a large, unused fireplace with a few chairs and a table in front of it, and it’s heated by water heaters that used to whistle a little when they blew out steam. I lived in that library for about 12 years, I think. It was my favourite spot to visit after school, and I got to know the librarians very well.
I still miss it sometimes now that I’ve moved to a small city four hours away! Thanks for the great post that got me reminiscing about it.