Libraries should be what they were always intended to be, what the first ones were—temples of books.
When I was a kid in New York, the 96th Street library was a focal point of my life. Even though I was perpetually losing my library card and amassing fines for overdue books I didn’t want my parents to know about, it (as well as the movie theaters on 86th) was my home away from home.
It had also, I was given to understand, served the same function for the young James Baldwin (although Wikipedia cites the 135th Street library in Harlem) and other esteemed writers of the past and had a history of spawning authors, something even then I dreamed of being.
It was also a place for stimulating the mind as only books can.
According to its website, the 96th is currently undergoing a rehab. Simultaneously, I was interested to read, a new library here in my present hometown—six years now—of Nashville is opening.
From Axios Nashville: “Musical performances, a puppet show and appearances from Nashville political leaders marked the long-awaited grand opening of the Donelson library branch Monday.”
But wait, as they say, there’s more: “The new 24,000-square-foot library has three dedicated spaces to host community events, six study rooms, artwork by local artists and a mobile kitchen on wheels sponsored by the Stones River Woman’s Club.”
They also do vehicle registrations. Seriously. No word on a bowling alley.
The local official who has been sponsoring this project for years said: “Libraries are not about just going to check out a book. They’re modern multimedia centers and places for all kinds of community programming.”
I disagree. Libraries should be primarily about the one thing that is among the most sorely missed in contemporary society—books, books, books, and more books.
Now, I have to admit something: Though I am an author now working on his 15th book, I have rarely been in a library in recent years, except to give an occasional talk to promote my work.
