Depths and Shallows

Still waters run deep, the saying goes....  an apt warning for people standing at the edge of a river for the first time, or appproaching a new relationship. It is useful advice for fishermen contemplating how deep to set the bait beneath their float, too.

Libraries can seem still and peaceful at first glance, but the tides and currents of our community run strongly through the public spaces of our branches.  Old friends meet each other unexpectedly at the self-checking stations, or gather at the lounge by the periodical shelves for long, quiet (or not so quiet) chats and reminiscences, and new friends are discovered.

Younger children make new friends among the picture books, while pairs and groups of teens lurk on the padded benches behind the tall shelves of YA and Graphic Novels, testing the depths of relationships - actual or potential.

Solitary teens and adults line the study benches, eyes blind to the tourist-delighting views of wilderness and mountains beyond the windows next to them.  Essays are written, exams swotted for, family histories and novels are researched, plotted, and edited, and business deals done.

Much of it is done sotto voce, but every now and then there is a crescendo of laughter or anger, or the bass rumble of a snore as a weary reader nods off to sleep.  Toddlers run between shelves and parents, loudly proclaiming their discovery of an exciting DVD or book.  Children's story times are full of song, clapping, and laughter, while children's craft and art sessions produce remarkable feats of effort, creativity, and concentration - followed by loud pride as the results are displayed for parents or grandparents.

Sometimes parents sit in neutral corners of the children's area, and the only traffic between them is the pitter patter of little feet, or occasional, quietly sad or bitter glances.

Our patrons drift in and out, turning up unexpectedly at a small branch when they are normally found at head office, or vice versa.  Book clubs and writers groups blossom, and sometimes wither, plans are made, and politics discussed.  Given the fractured state of politics in Australia today, the discourse in our libraries is remarkably polite and thoughtful - but perhaps that is due to the innate respect most people still have for the remarkable institution that is the library.

As the current of Mountains life swirls through the shelves, around the photocopiers and printers, and across the circulation and reference desks, the librarians are in the midst of the flow, directing traffic, answering questions, and assisting with technology.  We know better than any just how deep this river is, as we catch glimpses and hints of the vast and varied interests, hopes, dreams, desires, fantasies, trials, and tribulations of those it sweeps through our doors.

Next time you feel you've lost contact with humanity, or the world at large, find a comfortable spot in your local library and sit quietly, or amble for a while among the shelves.  Keep your ears and eyes open - serendipity lives in libraries, and all the best people turn up there sooner or later - including you.

Volunteer Editors (and Worse)

Who are these people who take to library books with pen or pencil, correcting, underlining, or crossing out perceived errors?

What is the point?  Do they think that they are the only reader whose eyes and mind will detect the mistake?  Really!  Anyone who chooses to read the book they have seen the need to correct will either consciously notice the mistake, or auto-correct it as their eyes race across the paragraphs.  What monstrous ego compels an otherwise well mannered library patron to so needlessly deface a book? 

What if the "error" is not a mistake, but a deliberate choice of word by the author that was intended to convey some special meaning in a poetic way?  What if it is poetry, and has confounded the literal minded volunteer editor.  What would such an editor have done with the works of Shakespeare?  Would any copy of the works of Lewis Carroll remained unmarked by such enthusiasts?

As library staff and patrons know, these pen wielding pedants make more murk than clarity.  They should annotate and sign for every correction, on a flyleaf or insert, so the rest of us can gloat if their correction turns out be incorrect. They should allow for the likelyhood that other readers who pick up this book after their pen has made its mark will share (or even surpass) the volunteer editor's facility with words, and refrain from such petty, pedantic scratchings.

Sure, if it is an "early reader" that is meant to teach a small child the correct spelling, use, and meaning of words, by all means show the book to the librarian at the circulation desk when returning it.  Perhaps you can write a letter to the publisher or author setting out the mistake, but for those books aimed at literate, experienced readers, please stay your hand and set down your pen.  If knowing the "error" is there is keeping you awake at night, please show it (un-annotated) to the librarian.

But as annoying as the volunteer editor can be to librarians and patrons, there is someone who will be consigned to a deeper circle of library hell, and that is the self appointed censor.

When all the books on a sensitive topic suddenly vanish, are defaced, or are found kicked under the bottom shelf, the librarian knows someone's cherished beliefs or opinions have been wounded.  The librarians care, they really do, and it is possible that the books in question may offend the librarians, too - but modern public libraries commit to free and open circulation of books and information, and to not censoring publicly available information - despite the fact that more than a few of the books that are officially catalogued as non fiction really deserve to be put on the paperback fiction shelves, with a "Fantasy" genre sticker on the spine.

To those few who feel they have the right to censor our public libraries collection, please have a polite chat with the librarian - there is a policy they must follow to determine if the book should in fact be on the shelf.  If the policy does not give you the result you seek, please take it up with the author and publisher - perhaps a word from you could set the author on the right path after all.  Just don't take it out on your public library.

Public libraries are, after all, one of the pillars of a free and democratic society - if you doubt that, then ask the librarian to direct you to the shelves containing books on politics, society, and history. 

Spend a few weeks or months reading deeply on the subject and you will soon find out what sort of society results when the censors move in and the books are destroyed or burned.

Some Days Are Born Ugly

Some days are born ugly - anyone who knows that line has read Steinbeck's Sweet Thursday and knows that it begins the chapter about the Lousy Wednesday that comes before that sublime but crazy Thursday.  Anyone who has had to get up and face that sort of day knows its truth.  It is such a short but perfect opening line.

I have to admit that my reading has always been eclectic, impulsive, and erratic, as far as subjects, styles, and genre choice goes, and I rely heavily on serendipity to provide me with new and interesting material - one of the great advantages of working at the returns desk for a few hours is exposure to the tastes and interests of so many other people, as the tide of returned books flows in from the front counter and the bookdrop.

A stint on the returns desk is like a trip to the tip (as it was in older days) when I invariably came out the gate with more stuff than I took in.  Likewise, a day working at the library nearly always sees me return home with far more material than I can possibly read or watch or listen to during the borrowing period allotted.  It's a common problem for library staff.

I have digressed (mea culpa, but it happens when I am talking to people and it will no doubt happen quite often on this blog) and should return to Steinbeck.  I read Grapes of Wrath many years ago, and gained a new appreciation of why my grandparents and ancient great aunts approached life with such frugal caution.

My pleasure in its qualities, as well as my gratitude to the author for the way he presented the tribulations and struggles of the Okies, should have sent me off in pursuit of all his other works, but I was distracted by other passions - in my teens I found the Hugo award anthologies, Tolkien, and Dune.

The flood of great Science Fiction - Herbert, Clarke, Heinlein, Asimov, et al - and new Fantasy writing, swept me along for quite a few years.  Oh, and I mustn't forget the influences of P.G.Wodehouse and Dennis Wheatley.  What was I doing in the Adult section of the Library?  I had exhausted the Children's collection, there was no YA section in those days, and a sympathetic librarian bent the rules for me.

But gradually, I caught up with other Steinbeck works, and each has been a real pleasure and a revelation. Scattered through the pages of Sweet Thursday are characters and actions that seem fantastical, yet those seemingly impossible moments blend smoothly and realistically with the more mundane behaviour of the denizens of Cannery Row to create an utterly enjoyable, plausible world.

If Wednesday was "born ugly" well, as for Thursday, Steinbeck says "There aren't many days like that anyplace.  People treasure them."  Again, in very few words, he has taken you to a place you recognise - a place you remember, and wish you could visit again and again.  A few chapters earlier, Doc walked along the beach towards the lighthouse and the waves "... basted his ankles."

"The Golden afternoon moved on towards China....." as he walked and listened to the argument going on between the voices in his mind - the upper, middle, and lower voices.  A few short sentences and you know the torment Doc is going through, even as you feel the warmth and beauty of the place in which he is suffering.

One of the skills my friends at writing group are helping me develop - against my naturally wordy inclinations - is the skill Steinbeck displays so well.  His writing is both poetic and succinct, even when dealing with highly complex characteres and situations.  If you haven't read him yet, please do.