Two weeks ago I asked the librarian at the circulation desk what she was reading. She held up, finger marking her place, The Light Ages: A Medieval Journey of Discovery (Allen Lane, 2020). When I asked for a capsule review she said the book held her “rapt.” Two observations: 1.) I can’t remember the last time I heard someone correctly use “rapt.” 2.) I can’t ever remember seeing a librarian at her post intently lost in a book. We might judge the latter “ironic” but librarians are busy people, even during a pandemic, and not all librarians are inveterate readers.
When I returned to the Fondren
on Saturday I found my librarian friend had finished reading The Light Ages
and put it on hold for me – further evidence that as a professional class, librarians
are among the most thoughtful people in the world.
Across from the
circulation desk I noticed a library cart with a sign printed with the two most beautiful words in the English language: “Free Books.” For once, these weren’t discards but books the library
probably already had in their collection and chose not to keep. A satisfying haul:
Gogol’s Wife and Other
Stories (New
Directions, 1963), Tommaso Landolfi, which I haven’t read in fifty years
Collected Poems 1921-1951 (Grove Press, 1953),
Edwin Muir
Samuel Johnson and the New
Science
(University of Wisconsin Press, 1971), Richard B. Schwartz
Musicophilia: Tales of
Music and the Brain
(Vintage Books, 2008), Oliver Sacks
Children in Exile: Poems
1968-1984
(Vintage Books, 1984), James Fenton, inscribed by Linda Leavell and dated “25
March 85.” Leavell earned her Ph.D. in English from Rice University in 1986. I
read her Holding On Upside Down: The Life and Work of Marianne Moore
(2013).
And best of all, a sturdy
hardcover edition of T.S. Eliot’s Selected Essays 1917-1932 (Harcourt, Brace,
1932). He famously writes in “Tradition and Individual Talent”: “Tradition is a
matter of much wider significance. It cannot be inherited, and if you want it
you must obtain it by great labour.”
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