KENNETH E. HALL 20 June, 2014 ORLANDO, FL
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She was stacking some books, writing down notes as she did so. I walked up to the information desk where she was, and she glanced up at me through antique spectacles.
"How can I help you?" she asked, somewhat dryly, still placing one book atop another.
"What do you think the future of libraries is?" I asked.
She was astonished at the question, and after the initial shock, replied: "Sir, there have been libraries since well before the Library of Alexandria. There were even human libraries in the form of story-tellers back in the time before writing was invented. We will ALWAYS have libraries!"
A sad look on her wrinkled face betrayed the optimism of her answer. She had worked at that library branch since my mother could remember, but it was obvious that few years remained for her as a librarian.
She stopped what she was doing and asked me: "What prompted such a question, young man?"
"Well," I explained, "it's that I just came from the bookstore, and there are fewer and fewer BOOKS for sale there! There are other things - books on CD, and the like, but I remember when there were so many, many more. I'm afraid that in twenty years the books that will remain will be in museums and in private collections, or maybe they'll just crumble away into dust like those ancient tomes in H. G. Wells' novel The Time Machine.
"Let me ask you this" she said, "Do you see many schoolchildren using clay tablets - or slate boards?"
"No, ma'am."
"We are constantly evolving as a species, improving our means of technology, and now we are doing so at a faster rate than ever before in history. Why should we not improve in this area as well?" She asked.
"I see your point," I said.
I smiled, thanked her, and then walked away, leaving Madam Librarian to continue her work.
I had been coming to this public library branch since I was a young boy. I knew where certain books were from so many years walking the rows of shelves, yet I must confess that many a summer had passed for me since last I entered that now-aging Art-Deco-Era building.
Library Memories:
I looked at the wall straight ahead. Missing was the huge index file cabinet that had been a prominent furnishing of the place since I first walked in at the tender age of age ten. When I used the library after school, that index-card file cabinet contained lots of small, long drawers filled completely with 3 x 5 cards, each one painstakingly typewritten by someone using a manual typewriter, and these cards contained the information on how to locate each and every volume found on the library's many rows of bookshelves. The card noted the book's title, author, date of publication, publisher, Dewey Decimal locator number, etc.
I remembered a few times searching for a book title using the index cards, and got frustrated and disappointed because when I got to the shelf, all the other numbers were there, but the one book I wanted wasn't.
!On the few times I went there without paper or pencil, I recalled how all they'd give you was tiny slips about 2" square, and itty-bitty pencils, just like at a golf course. It was just enough to jot down a book number. I often wondered if the librarians there were golfers. If I needed a larger sheet or two of paper, I'd have to fish some out of the trash - and get funny looks from a few fellow library patrons while doing it.
Since I used the library more during the summer months, this was a great place to keep cool, getting out of the sweltering heat while improving the mind at the same time.
The thing I recall most about the library was the smell of ink and paper that permeated the place. There was this special odor that a brand-new book had, and then there was also the feel of the paper itself. This part of the reading experience cannot be duplicated by an electronic display screen.
One day when I was about 12 years old, I checked out a few books, but for one reason or another did not get around to reading them. I forgot to return them, and when I did, I had a hefty fine to pay - and what was worse, it was out of my OWN MONEY! I was most upset about having to shell out my hard-earned dough for books that I couldn't keep and never read!
I told me mother that one day I'd "buy my OWN books, by golly, and have my own personal mini-library, and I'd read them all to spite the world!!!" Admittedly, that was just a bit too much drama, but in my defense, I was extremely frustrated and angry over the waste of hard-earned money. Nevertheless, over the years since that melodramatic statement, I made good on my promise, and collected a good many books - mostly the classics - and I'm very proud to say that the books were not for show - - - I've read most of them!I recently read the Russian classic: Taras Bulba, by Gogol, and it was an eBook! So was Common Sense by Thomas Paine. Thus I survived my first electronic reading. It was no different than reading a book - not really, or so I told one of my sons when I competed them.
"Welcome to the 21st Century, Dad!" my son said, teasingly, when I admitted I had strayed from the beaten path and actually read something other than a book.
...But my mind keeps going back to Edgar Allen Poe's famous poem, the Raven:
"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore..."
That poem could not have been written today, using those words!
There's just something about a book...🖎🕮
!NOTES:
This blog article is intended to accompany another, entitled: "We Won't 'Read All About It' Anymore" and can be found here: http://kennyduke.blogspot.com/2018/07/we-wont-read-all-about-it-anymore.html
sPhoto from Louisiana Digital Library: http://www.louisianadigitallibrary.org/islandora/object/hnoc-clf%3A11175
s"Madam Librarian' is the opening of a song: "Marian the Librarian", from "The Music Man"
sLibrary illustration: https://sites.google.com/site/digitallibrarynumis/
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