The shelves in our new library are moving and sensitive: press a button on the end of the row and a whole series of shelves scoots silently out of the way so patrons can walk between them, but if a patron steps into the path of a moving shelf, it stops at once. How does a mere mass of metal sense the presence of a patron? I suspect magic.
Our new library opens to the public on Monday, but I paid a visit today to pick up some books, and one of the librarians gave me a private tour. The flat, monochromatic design we viewed so often on blueprints has become an attractive and functional building flooded with light and full of wonders: shelves that move, high-tech classrooms where students can learn research methods and faculty can try out new technology, a center for teaching excellence that houses our brand-new instructional technology expert.
And books--lots of books. Most of the library's books have come back from remote storage, and the special collections will return in the coming weeks. The warm, inviting tones of the woodwork and paint make the library a welcoming place, and amenities include an outdoor amphitheater, a small coffee shop, and lounge areas featuring faux fireplaces, but all those things would be irrelevant if it weren't for the books.
Jorge Luis Borges envisioned Paradise as a library, but his Paradise was not dependent on moving shelves, faux fireplaces, or high-tech classrooms. Borges knew that the library's magic lives in its books. Now that the books are back, we can all pay a visit to Paradise.
2 comments:
Wow, sounds lovely! Congrats!
I'm envious! Any chance we can see pictures of this Paradise?
And I'm so sorry, Bev, I didn't get to hear your paper at the MLA: that was a just a bit too late for me, too, alas.
The big question though is: did you buy those black boots?
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