This Librarian's Ideal

Earlier this month most of us read or heard about the attempt to destroy medieval manuscripts held in trust for humanity by the citizens and librarians of Timbuktu.  Extremists, intent on eradicating the cultural heritage and communal history of those who participated in the golden age of Arabic and Medieval learning, attempted to burn or otherwise destroy the treasures of that intellectual era.

Fortunately, librarians, family guardians of personal collections, archivists in many of the mosques of Timbuktu, the Library of Congress’ digitization program, heroic citizens of Mali, and French warriors anticipated the vindictive fury and single mindedness of these mindless modern day barbarians.  Many thousands of pieces were smuggled out of the city on donkey carts.  A few were destroyed.

These treasures are irreplaceable and fortunately only a small proportion was physically destroyed. Many pieces had been digitized by forward thinking librarians; others held their preservation as a sacred duty passed through hundreds of generations by families who own private collections.  The manuscripts were protected as the privilege of family honor.  One for our side!

Victories have been few and far between as preservation of a people’s intellectual often meets a very different fate.  The physicality of books, manuscripts, and codex implies their fragility. Electronic media have uncertain permanence.  I can recommend the book The Universal History of the Destruction of Books by Fernando Baez and Alfred MacAdam to get a sense of a sometimes losing battle.

The biggest danger by far is man, especially the fanatics. Conquerors knew that the subjugation of a people required the destruction of the best their civilization has produced—ideas and narrative.  Libraries and archives are almost always targets of incoming barbarians who are intent on seeding the intellectual landscape of conquered peoples with salt.  Small victories do happen though.  Read the fictional account of a rare illustrated Hebrew work in Geraldine Brooks’ excellent People of the Book.

Miracles sometimes occur.  The Archimedes Codex by Reviel Netz and William Noel tells of the miraculous recovery of an unknown work of the Greek mathematician.  Although the scroll had been co-opted for a mediocre prayer book, modern technology was able to recover the greatness written on the palimpsest. Many other masterpieces of Western Intellectual Heritage were not so fortunate.   How many other libraries have been destroyed some in the name of religion, a few by librarians themselves?  How few have been saved?

Too few have been saved despite the aegis of dedicated librarians. Four of the chief tenets of librarianship are the Collection, Preservation, Organization and Dissemination of human knowledge in any form—paper or other media.  It is that secular sacred duty, the preservation of the seeds of knowledge that made the choice of profession for me.  If I could pass that information and means to knowledge on to others, if I could in some way preserve and protect a small portion of that heritage, then that was work worth doing.  Fiction and phone numbers aside, this was to be my real work. Every day I learned from information seekers, humbled by the vast expanse of my ignorance. What an immense intellectual world existed beyond my ken!  Every day I tried to become better, to learn more, to find the seeds of knowledge and to plant them in fertile minds.  In a career now over I hope that I helped a few. I know I fell far short, but that does not mean that the ideal does not persist.  The preservation of Timbuktu’s heritage sustains me; the heroes who risked their lives imbue me with hope.  They are my ideal and ideals are treasure beyond price.

Long Shadows

It is shortly after the autumnal equinox that I begin to notice the longer shadows and earlier nightfall.  It is always the shadows that catch my attention most; a reminder that the warm and hope full days of summer are gone.  When other would a 72 degree day be described as “very warm?”  When other does 65 degrees seem so cold?

This fall was slow in coming, but now firmly established after a searing summer.  The leaf colors were spectacular if short lived.  All that remains after several windy, rainy days is to rake them into piles while awaiting our designated leaf pick-up dates.  Oh how I miss the smell of burning leaves, carefully tended—the scent of more youthful days.

Autumn is a time for chores that cannot wait. I have washed the windows so that, whatever sunshine winter allows, can shine into the house, warming it and cheering the cabin fevered inhabitants.  The outdoor chairs and table have been stored in the shed; the strawberries mulched. We’ve had the furnace cleaned and checked. Our warmer clothing has been taken from their storage boxes, replaced by shorts and sleeveless tops. The snow blower is ready for its re-awakening. A cold snowy Midwestern winter is predicted. Very soon I must cut down the last of the herbs, hoping that the hardier plants will winter over. 

Autumn is time to activate your to-be-read reading list.  Every fall the Irish American Heritage Center in Chicago sponsors IBAM, a celebration of Irish books, art and music.  This year the festival was held early but it is a “must attend” and attend we did.  The event seemed condensed partly because the usual gala dinner was held on one of the event days instead of the evening before, partly because there seemed to be fewer authors and musicians, partly because the emphasis was on Derry and Northern Ireland, and partly because the organizational spirit appeared constrained.

Nevertheless there were wonderful writers, lively musicians, dedicated artists and books to buy. Tightly scheduled presentations made choosing between the Saturday or Sunday programs difficult.  We attended on Saturday, arriving in time for me to climb the stairs to the fourth floor for an author talk.  Colum McCann, Dublin born writer, is now living in NYC.  He had written several books including the award winning Let The Great World Spin.  It was not his past works that dominated the day’s conversation, it was rather his forthcoming work, Transatlantic, scheduled for publication in June 2013, that informed an hour-long insight into the mind of this fine writer.   In this forthcoming book McCann relates three Atlantic crossings, carefully interweaving the Irish visit of Frederick Douglas in the 1850s, the first airplane crossing of Brown and Alcott [not Lindbergh] when the pair flew from Newfoundland to the west coast of Ireland just after World War I, and the endeavor of U. S. Statesman and former Senator George Mitchell, trying to facilitate a lasting truce between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland during the Clinton administration.  Each story is compelling, but the writer’s artistry and imagination weaves a tapestry I cannot wait to read in June.

IBAM features a variety of panel discussions. The influence of James Joyce on Modern Literature was shared by Joyce experts, academics and an artistic interpreter of Joyce’s words. The discussion was far ranging and included a spirited reading of an excerpt from Flannagan’s Wake. A second panel, held later in the day, investigated Modern Irish Writing: Is the “Irish” Significant?  American born Irish-American writer Mary Pat Kelly was joined by Irish born writers, Maurice Fitzpatrick and Colum McCann, plumbing the depths of their Irish heritage, explaining how being Irish has affected what and/or how they write. The most startling comment was made by McCann who thought that it might be possible that the next great Irish writer might just be a Pole!  [Think about that one!]

The day was filled with theatrical excerpts, film, music and other author talks.  The featured writer this year was Morgan Llywelyn.  I had an opportunity to talk with J.S. Dunn about her book Bending the Boyne, an historical fictional tale set in 2200 B.C.E. when the descendants of those who built Newgrange and the other Boyne passage graves are facing a new invasion by men looking for copper and gold.  [She most graciously signed my copy of her book.]  Other visiting authors included the astounding Maurice Fitzpatrick whose book and film “The Boys of St. Columb’s” tells the story of the first generation of Derry children to receive a free education under the 1947 Education Act in Northern Ireland, cartoonist Pat Byrnes, Dennis Foley, Mary Terese Kanak,  children’s writer Sandra McCone, poet Jerry O’Neill, and many others.

IBAM provided much to read and think about as the shadows lengthen and the days grow colder. I think I’ll just warm up some spiced cider and curl up with J.S. Dunn’s story of the waning days of one Irish culture, awaiting the spring and summer of others…maybe even, someday, a Pole!

A Flame UnKindled

I received a Kindle ® electronic book reader for my birthday. I broke the North American record for authorization to return it complete with packing label and tracking number. Believe me, I appreciated the thought but the Kindle ® is not for me, although it may be just ticket for those who read bestsellers, travel for extended periods, or need access to technical manuals or textbooks.

Since retirement I have become a woman of leisure. Sampling the simple delights of life has become my full time job. Those delights include books. For one thing I simply don’t like reading electronic text. I have a very short attention span for photons smashing themselves onto a computer screen. If what I read is true so do most people. It seems that the ideal way to write for the Internet is in an “F” shape. Only the first few lines are read to the end, thereafter the eye starts cutting off the right side text.

I want to enjoy what I am reading and have the time to do just that. That enjoyment extends to the book as artifact. The tactile experience, the dimensions of a physical entity, the type, illustrations, binding, paper, cover and convenience of the book is important to the total experience of reading. And I never have to recharge a book!

If I am doing research I will have several books open at the same time to compare, augment, check, or refute. Flipping screens cannot match the cluttered desk approach. Furthermore, I seem to have a quirky memory. While I do not have a photographic memory, I can easily recall the approximate location and page placement of something I have read in a book. Whether reading non-fiction or novels, it is not uncommon for me to check back on what I had read. Again, the paper book is superior for these functions.

When I read non-fiction, I write in my books. This admission would make my fellow librarian colleagues cringe, but it’s my book. I use the end papers for personal indexing, noting important concepts as they unfold throughout the book. The process is not a duplication of the good book’s index. It is more personal. Years after I’ve read a book I can consult the back pages to review something from the book and will know just where to find it in the text. Sometimes I highlight text as I read; often I write comments on the page as I read. It’s only vandalism when it doesn’t belong to you.

Does the physical book have disadvantages? Well, it isn’t “green” although some paper has been recycled. Many of my better books are printed on archival paper. They will last. Whether this is good for the earth or not, it is good for those books that are keepers. A second disadvantage comes from the fact the books take up space. In my home, a lot of space! We recently reached a point of desperation. My husband often says, “We don’t have enough book shelves.” I tell him we never will.

To that end I have been weeding my collections. Weeding is the term librarians use to remove books from the library’s collection. Weeding has always been the part of my job that I hated. It is no different at home. It is difficult to make choices that will result in the permanent loss of a good friend. This time drastic measures were necessary. There is just one more room of books to weed. It contains my science, math, psychology, thesis research material, and writers’ resource books. It will be very painful indeed to cull this carefully collected group.

What criteria have I used in my recent weeding? If the book was on a topic I’ve lost interest in, it was removed. If I never read, and would probably never read it, the book is gone. If a title was part of one of my special collections, but a weak entry, I removed it. I have amassed very choice collections in Celtic History and Culture, Medieval History, Fairy tales and myths, Native American legends and arts, History of Science and Math, History of Philosophy, Nobel Science biography, certain mystery writers and a few fiction writers.

If the weeded titles were on a Kindle® they could be deleted. The mental of image of deleting my friends is painful. However, most of my books would not be available to “download” anyway. What will I do with my old friends? Mostly I will try to find them a new home; new readers. Some I will donate to the library. These might end up in their collection—they’re good enough—or in the next book sale. We may take some to a second hand book store and sell them for a pittance. Maybe these will find their way into good homes. A very, very few will end up in the trash.

I do not regret the return of my birthday present. Whatever the fate of books and reading, the physical book will remain important to me. Even the pain of weeding old friends cannot dissuade me. Books are part of my life, part of me. If that makes me less au courant, “uncool”, or old fashioned, so be it.