I have been an avid reader all my life and don't see stopping anytime soon. I love going to our local public library. I love the big wooden door you had to lean back on to get it moving. Finally the big door would move and the smell of books, leather and wood would hit like a physical sensation. There they were. Stacks and stacks of books.
From simple books for the little ones, to detailed picture books on how it's done. Rows and rows of encyclopedias and even more books in the reference section. Books so important, that you could only read them in that hallowed hall that was the library. Never, ever, was a reference book allowed to leave the glory of the library.
I loved the soft springy feel of the leather clad floors and the pressed ceiling high above. Slowly trolling down shelf upon shelf to find the books that you loved reading. Just checking that no one did them harm since I last took them home. Then it's the slow dance of pulling a book with an enticing title down from the shelf. Quickly reading the dust cover, then check on the artist graphics on the front. In my book, if the artist wasn't inspired to do something awesome for the cover, the book was most probably not good enough to spend time on to read. Just every once in a while, I'd find a book, by a new author, where the blurb on the dust cover overrode the dull images of the cover.I loved those times. Proven wrong by great writing, better story telling and a couple of hours of totally leaving reality to dwell in the imagination of another.
I loved reading science fiction, action, drama, autobiografies, science books... they were all my friends. Loved friends.
Then the unthinkable happened. Progress came to town. The new library across town was finished and the librarians packed up all the books and moved. It took a couple of weeks before my stack of books was finished and I had to revisit the library.
It felt like going off world, so strange was the sensation of driving to the new location of the 'new public libary'. It was all white. Chrome framed doors and blue carpets. A welcome desk was setup in the entrance hall to ensure that only valid library card holders gained entrance. Your old card was checked and you were duly issued a new electronic card to enter the hallowed halls through an electronic gate.
But the halls have lost their status. The light was too bright. The walls too white. The stacks were all new in new metal shelves. Some of the old wood shelves survived deep in the bowls, but out here there was all gleaming new... junk! I felt cheated. I loved books, but I also loved the way the old library made you feel like part of all that culture. The new library was all new technology and progress. All progress for progress sake. Lost was the culture of reading, replaced instead with efficiency and griping over budgets.
It's been a few decades and I've not been back. Choosing instead to embrace progress in the form of my e-reader. Reading books on a glowing computer screen instead of feeling the weight of the book in your hand. Smelling the ink on the paper, with that slight dusty quality. Feeling the soft creek of the cover as you fold it open. The texture of the printed page as your fingers slide over it to start your next adventure.
I still remember those days. On days like today. Raining, wet. My whisper sync on the Kindle not working, so no new books can download. I remember the days when the only download problem was getting to the library to exchange your stack of new friends with a newer and ever growing list of books. Books loaned from a library with a date stamp and a promise. In two weeks there will be more...
From simple books for the little ones, to detailed picture books on how it's done. Rows and rows of encyclopedias and even more books in the reference section. Books so important, that you could only read them in that hallowed hall that was the library. Never, ever, was a reference book allowed to leave the glory of the library.
I loved the soft springy feel of the leather clad floors and the pressed ceiling high above. Slowly trolling down shelf upon shelf to find the books that you loved reading. Just checking that no one did them harm since I last took them home. Then it's the slow dance of pulling a book with an enticing title down from the shelf. Quickly reading the dust cover, then check on the artist graphics on the front. In my book, if the artist wasn't inspired to do something awesome for the cover, the book was most probably not good enough to spend time on to read. Just every once in a while, I'd find a book, by a new author, where the blurb on the dust cover overrode the dull images of the cover.I loved those times. Proven wrong by great writing, better story telling and a couple of hours of totally leaving reality to dwell in the imagination of another.
I loved reading science fiction, action, drama, autobiografies, science books... they were all my friends. Loved friends.
Then the unthinkable happened. Progress came to town. The new library across town was finished and the librarians packed up all the books and moved. It took a couple of weeks before my stack of books was finished and I had to revisit the library.
It felt like going off world, so strange was the sensation of driving to the new location of the 'new public libary'. It was all white. Chrome framed doors and blue carpets. A welcome desk was setup in the entrance hall to ensure that only valid library card holders gained entrance. Your old card was checked and you were duly issued a new electronic card to enter the hallowed halls through an electronic gate.
But the halls have lost their status. The light was too bright. The walls too white. The stacks were all new in new metal shelves. Some of the old wood shelves survived deep in the bowls, but out here there was all gleaming new... junk! I felt cheated. I loved books, but I also loved the way the old library made you feel like part of all that culture. The new library was all new technology and progress. All progress for progress sake. Lost was the culture of reading, replaced instead with efficiency and griping over budgets.
It's been a few decades and I've not been back. Choosing instead to embrace progress in the form of my e-reader. Reading books on a glowing computer screen instead of feeling the weight of the book in your hand. Smelling the ink on the paper, with that slight dusty quality. Feeling the soft creek of the cover as you fold it open. The texture of the printed page as your fingers slide over it to start your next adventure.
I still remember those days. On days like today. Raining, wet. My whisper sync on the Kindle not working, so no new books can download. I remember the days when the only download problem was getting to the library to exchange your stack of new friends with a newer and ever growing list of books. Books loaned from a library with a date stamp and a promise. In two weeks there will be more...
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