I’ve always been most comfortable in libraries. In Junior High school, my best friend and I used to head to our small town public ‘library’ after school for a couple of hours until our parents finished at work. The Columbia County Public Library wasn’t a great one, wasn’t even a good one – but it was cool in the Florida heat and a respite of words in a part of the country that had little respect for them. In the pre-internet age, the library was the only source for the kind of information that we have at our fingertips today. I think I learned more about the world in those after school library sessions than I ever did in the classroom. One of the best things about the Columbia County Library was that it was just around the corner from a drug store that still had an old fashioned soda counter. Best vanilla Cokes ever.

I discovered the joy of the library scavenger hunt at the University of Georgia’s Science Library. Once I started doing upper level science courses, I began to have to search for journal articles and then references within. The internet was just starting to replace the card catalog and most of my research involved working my way back through decades of academic literature. Finding one article often began a search for another, older one. Sometimes I had to work through the stacks, sometimes through rolls of microfilm. But I loved the search, the hunt, and whiled away many an autumn afternoon in the science library, surrounded by smells of books and acetate and the sound of quiet.

By the time I started my doctorate, most scientific journals were online and I rarely had to leave my computer to do literature searches. But every now and again, I’d need some 1930’s agricultural pamphlet and would have to head over to Ellis Library and hit the stacks. And that’s where I discovered the graduate student cages. Little closet sized cells, separated from one another by chain link. Most of them were empty, but every now and again you’d find a bleary eyed history graduate student huddled inside, looking up nervously as you passed by. I couldn’t figure out what these odd fellows were doing; why lock yourself up in a windowless cell in the library away from friends and colleagues? One of my favorite things about graduate school was the social aspects of it – the friendships. Even when I was writing up my thesis, I did it in my shared office with fellow students bustling around me. When I finished it, I celebrated with the same people. But these library hermits seemed to be eschewing the best part of the graduate experience.

But I began to understand the need for a hermitage during my post-doctoral research. Oxford University’s Bodleian Library is one of the iconic landmarks of that city. But during my time there in the City of Dreaming Spires, I spent little time there. The Bodleian was more like a museum than a working library. I felt as if I should be wearing an academic gown. The librarians there probably would have preferred that I had. It was a gorgeous place to sit, but not a comfortable one.

I spent more time in our cozy little departmental library and it was there that I discovered the advantages of library as hideaway. Toward the end of my time at Oxford, I was a fairly disgruntled academic. I needed to keep turning up to work in order to fulfill the terms of my contract, but while I was there I was too busy being grumpy and miserable to spend much time doing work. One day I had a legitimate excuse to wander over to the library and as I was wandering through the stacks, thumbing through 17th century botanical texts, I discovered the reading room – ample natural light, deliciously comfortable chairs and empty. I spent the rest of that day hiding out in that room. From that point on, it became my sanctuary. When I wanted to get away from my boss or my co-workers or even myself, I’d head up to the library, grab something to read and claim one of those reading chairs until I was ready to deal with people again. The beauty of a library is that quiet is a mandate. Even if someone stumbled upon my hidey hole, universal library manners meant that a subtle nod was the extent of the required conversation.

Today, after a second or two of olfactory reverie, I wandered into the university library. Just for kicks. Ours’ is not a great library. My only experience with it to date was a brief and unsuccessful quest for an evolution text last year. As is the case with most libraries these days, there are nearly as many computers as there are books. There are no comfortable reading chairs, no graduate student cages, no airy reading rooms. But it is still a library. And wandering through the stacks today, I found the same sense of comfort that I’ve always found in libraries. These days, I have a private office and a job that I love. I get most books that I need free from textbook companies. When I need a journal article I find it online.

I’ve got no real need for the library these days, but I’m damn glad it’s there. I’m glad it’s there because someday I may need that sanctuary again. I’m glad that its there for my kids, I hope they get the joy, comfort and thirst for knowledge out of the library that I used to get.

And I’m glad it’s there for that smell – musty books. Comfort. Solace.

———————-

Image credits:

Columbia County Library

Ellis Library at the University of Missouri

The Bodleian Library

City East Library

My Morning Jacket’s “Evil Urges” is available from .