Libraries are kind of an artifact (sort of like me) from a bygone era. Yet, these artifacts could be the secret to discovering meaning and joy in the 21st century. I can't explain exactly what I'm thinking right now. But as best as I can express it: There is something in the touch of paper, the care in organization, the multiplicity of purposes, the mixture of people, the free flow of information, and even the shared experience of quiet community that has the power to rescue us from the tyranny of unrelenting digital efficiency.
So, why not become a library tourist?
As a library tourist, the first thing I like to do when entering a library is to see the library as a whole. How are the magazines organized? Are there any exhibits? Where is the smell of old books most pronounced?
Libraries are lessons in urban geography. You can tell a lot about the character of a city or town by the state of their library. When I was living in the small town of Edgewater, Florida, I remember distinctly how well stocked and organized the DVD section was. The library there was a substitute for the old rent-a-video places that used to exist. If you needed a cheap night out, then you could just go to the library and check out a DVD.
In Omura, Nagasaki, the library - Mirai on Library ミライon図書館 - is named and built as a testament to the future of the city. Omura is a medium-sized city with ambition, this library tells us emphatically. The building is a testament to modern architecture. The library serves as both a library and a museum. The first floor is a museum dedicated to exhibits about Nagasaki. On the other hand, the English language section, though plentiful, is lacking in substantial, intelligent books-perhaps reflecting the idea that the library is more about looks than substance. The coffee shop there, too, is elegant and refined, and yet, it has priced me out of a (good?) cup of coffee.
My university library, on the other hand, is richly stocked with books, both academic and otherwise, and beautiful. Teachers choose the books, meaning that what is ordered and shelved is likely to also be read thoughtfully. The library is on the first floor of the university, and a bridge on the second floor crosses over it, giving students (and teachers) a bird's-eye view of the library and who is reading. You are a bookbird, looking down at all the bookworms, but there is no eating the readers at our university.
What about the big city experience? I remember distinctly going into a library in Tokyo. It was big, modern, beautiful, and packed with people. I had trouble finding a place to sit. Once I had found a place to sit, I wanted to take a quick five-minute nap. However, a minute into my nap, I was rudely awakened by a library attendant, who told me harshly that there was no sleeping in the library. I imagine that Tokyo libraries don't want to become a haven for the homeless. Yet, there is something uncivilized about being told you can't take a quick nap at the library...and I needed that nap, too!
There are many other libraries I have visited in my many travels. Each had its own flavor. Each existed, despite the tyranny of 21st-century digital efficiency. They each taught me something new about the way books bind not only paper but also people.
So, if life and the 21st century have you down, why not become a tourist of the most distinguished kind? Library tourism anyone?
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Pure Writerly Moments 2 (Short Stories, Essays, Book Reviews, and More)
Ficción GeneralWhat is the connection between artistic expression and the joy of living? How can one best live a literary life? This book is a collection of small word-projects. Each examines a book, a moment, a story that helps to deepen the author's literary adv...
