Specialized Dilettantism

So, one of the first books I had to look at during my internship was a real problem. At the time, I was only being asked to find OCLC records that fit the item in my hands, and not to actually catalog it… today, it came time to finally catalog this problem book. Why is it a problem? Well, first of all, I’ll be damned if I could locate an ISBN on it, and second:

With the exception of some differences of wear and a small series of digits of questionable identity, the front cover is a 180 degree rotation of the back cover. I opened the book, and found:

What I assumed was probably the uniform title, until I turned the page, and found this:

At this point, I’d dug up some records on OCLC, and found that the majority of libraries that have a copy of a book with “Marcel Duchamp” in the title, printed by the indicated publisher and having whatever publication date I managed to locate on this… were using some variation of the title in the image above. The most prominent one was, I have to assume, the original language title before this was translated.

The pages that followed that apparent title weren’t much help- I was hoping to find copyright information, or SOMETHING to clue me into whether I was looking at the right records.

I’m not screwing with you. That’s the next page immediately following the previous image, and it starts in the middle of a sentence. I was getting the feeling something was screwy, at this point, so I closed the book, to think. Perhaps the copyright/publication information was in the back? Wait a moment…

What in the name of Set, Egyptian God of Storms and the Desert is that? I opened the book to the off-colored pages, and found:

Well, some off-colored pages, oriented differently from the rest of the book. That’s odd, I thought, and flipped to the beginning and end of the off-colored pages, to find this:

The cover wasn’t the only thing that was inverted. Sure enough, this book appeared to have two “fronts” rotated 180 degrees relative to each other, that met in the middle, sandwiching a set of pages that were rotated 90 degrees. I flipped to the first page of the “reversed” side of the book:

“Opera and Vita: Work, and Life?” I thought, proceeding to turn the page:

Well, if there was ever a page that looked like a uniform title, I’d have to say it was this one. The copyright information on the opposite page seemed to reinforce this notion, but I continued flipping pages:

This one seems more like a proper introduction to such a large book….

As does this, and there’s some more credits and publication information.

And hey, a page of acknowledgments! Actually, several pages….

Well, that decided it. I dug through the OCLC results and found an English-language record that had all the necessary bits and bobs for cataloging per the instructions I’d received, and made sure that it gave the uniform title as “Marcel Duchamp”- and that it included a mention that the item appeared to actually be two items bound together as a single book, back-to-back.

I’m mystified, though: the OCLC record that uses the “Ephemerides” title as the uniform title seems to be the most popular. Was my judgment faulty, or did the majority of English-speaking catalogers with this book on hand make a major mistake in identifying it?

…but I just ran out of books to catalog. Out of all 200+ books I’d been assigned to add to the catalog, I’m down to six “problem” books that I have to set aside.

It’s rambling time. Be warned that this is something of an essay, and very “first drafty”.

A while back, I had the opportunity to sit in on an excellent Jazz performance at the Manhattanville College Library (MCL), as part of a recurring “Mid Day Music” event. More recently, I sat not too far from where the music event took place, watching a presentation  on the history of the college. In both cases, the event took place in the more contemporary-appearing front of the MCL, the sections near to the entrance where renovation and reconstruction were possible. The back of the library could not be subject to such renovations: the particular construction of the stacks forbids it, as they are integrated directly into the building’s architecture.

The back of the MCL is what I’ve found a lot of people imagine when they think of libraries. It’s dark and cool, there are peculiar smells of age and a sense of dustiness even when the space is well-cleaned. The few students one sees spending any length of time there are either student workers, or those taking advantage of the quiet to use one of the computer terminals at the very rear of this section. I adore this space, but I recognize the very reasons I adore it may make it unpleasant for others. The darkness is due to the energy-saving measures of installing timed light fixtures that automatically shut off after a meter winds down, as well as a standing policy that any non-timed lights be shut off when not required. The lack of light naturally lends a bit of a chill (perhaps more imagined than genuine), as does the openness of the environment: although the stacks get in the way of wireless reception, they permit some airflow, as does the open stairwell.

It’s the front of the MCL that seems to draw people in. Bright and cheery with large windows, and high ceilings and walls painted light colors that reflect both natural and artificial lighting. Much of the furniture is paneled with a veneer of wood in warm and inviting tones. On the entrance level, there are public sections of the front that are divided into rooms, but the division includes wide, towering panes of glass that allow easy viewing of what is in other spaces, and a sense of physical openness. These spaces include a quiet study room, a current periodicals room, and a cafe.

I’ve gotten a double take or two when I mention the cafe. More than a few people— whether they’ve worked in a library or not —express surprise at the idea of foodstuffs (especially the sure-staining substance that is coffee) anywhere near a library’s collection. It’s part of a recent effort at establishing the library as a “social” space where people can gather- especially where high-speed internet access is available.

The problem is, that social space winds up separate from the remainder of the library. In the libraries I’ve been to that had such spaces, there was a feeling that the social spaces were separated by often invisible barriers from the remaining spaces. In “Academic Libraries: “Social” Or “Communal?” The Nature And Future Of Academic Libraries.” (2008), J.T. Gayton calls these remaining spaces “communal”, and describes the risks of separation between the social and communal spaces. Two other libraries I’ve recently visited come to mind: let’s call them Library A and Library B. One is an academic library based at a college (no, not Manhattanville), and the other is a public library. Libraries A & B both underwent extensive architectural renovations in recent years, creating well-lit open spaces and multiple information commons as well as distinct computer labs. They’ve hosted events, and have works of art on display. The new architecture is contemporary, vibrant, and in places almost grandiose with vaulted ceilings high enough to be dizzying- and the stacks for the main collection are not included. Sure, the popular media and young adult literature are in attractive new shelving units, set on display in a very open area in each library and made quite accessible. But the comfortable new seating and vibrant, vital environment of the newer sections  seem mostly absent among the main stacks.

I don’t mean to suggest that this is an obvious oversight. Like Manhattanville, both Library A & Library B have a significant body of shelving units that are difficult to move or remove for one reason or another. Cost is a major factor- a couple or even a dozen new shelving units for a small popular fiction collection or YA lit section is an expensive enough investment, to say nothing of the staggering figures that arise when one attempts to calculate what would be necessary to provide similar new shelving for the books in the average library’s main collection. Barring an unprecedented donation and an exceptionally canny architectural firm, renovating the entirety (or even a large portion) of such a space is difficult to imagine.

But there are many ways to renovate space. Gayton quotes B. Frischer (2005):

“librarians need to think more about architectural design because in the digital age, users of physical libraries will want to experience something in a library that cannot be had in the office or home, and that something is the drama of community.”

Community space is the key. It’s not quite the same thing as communal space, and it’s not social space: it’s the space between, the frequently liminal environment where patrons gathering together for entertainment or relaxation meets patrons seeking resources. Community space exists where the lines blur between group study and socialization, it’s the space that changes its purpose from moment to moment. It is the reason that students at the MCL choose to get coffee from the cafe rather than the cafeteria, why a computer being used at one moment for serious study is used to look at LOLCats the next. It’s a display of new books recently added to the collection, it’s a space that happens rather than just existing. It’s the place where patrons are shown just what’s enjoyable or desirable about using the communal spaces.

Community space occurs in motion: most libraries can’t easily turn the bulk of their communal spaces into something resembling the crowd-pleasing aesthetics of the social spaces, and don’t want the social spaces to look like the communal spaces. That’s why the staff needs to act to create community space. It’s a challenge beyond my own experience to devise much in the way of means to do this, but a couple examples spring to mind.

First and foremost, get people excited about the main collection. You might not have taken a Children’s or YA librarianship class, but you ought to be able to remember what it was like visiting the library as a kid. Librarians and library staff work to encourage reading and a love of learning in children, and we need to work to do the same with adults. Here’s a possible way to do it: go through your main collection, and see what books excite or interest you. Which of them have fun, punchy titles that jump out at you, or intriguing contents that you might have missed in the past? Don’t just do it on your own: have everyone at the library pick out a book or two. See if you can build a theme, but don’t worry if it’s eclectic- the theme can be “books from our collection”. If you’re an Academic Library, work with faculty to find things related to subjects of interest, and reach out to clubs and organizations on campus to find out what kind of books might interest them.

Is there someone among your staff with graphic design skills? Have them find ways to present excerpts from those books in a visually appealing way. Pick a space you’re not using for something else, especially if it’s in the social space, and drag the communal space into the social space by creating a display. Don’t make the mistake of it being a static display, either! If you’re showing off books in your collection, make it easy for people to pick those books up and look through them, or to find related works. Once you have a spot where the communal brushes up against the social, you’ve got your community space.

Find ways to bring the social into the communal space. Off the top of my head, I can imagine the easy addition to shelving units of a QR code sticker that patrons with smart phones can scan to get more information- maybe a resource that lets patrons post short reviews and discussions of books in the collection, including reading and research recommendations. Again, if you’re an Academic Library, this can be tied to coursework and programs at the school.

Gayton warned against the establishment and promotion of social spaces in libraries to the detriment of communal spaces- but perhaps, if we start to increase the existence of community spaces by crossing social and communal whenever possible, we’ll find that the existence of each can improve the other, rather than taking away space and resources.

The weather today reminded me that i still need a Tom Baker-length scarf. I ought to learn to knit.

Today, after adding about thirteen books to the catalog (and discerning that two or three more were Problems Beyond The Scope of My Authority), I sat in on a presentation on the history of Manhattanville College and the grounds on which it is located.

Holy carp, I have never been quite so proud to be doing work for someone as I am now. I remember feeling a slight discomfort when I first came to campus and passed by O’Byrne Chapel, a remembrance of my Ashkenazi, Litvak, and especially Sephardic blood that made me feel uncomfortable in the presence of Christian symbols, made me fear that I was not welcome. That discomfort has changed to admiration.

If you have even a few minutes, check out http://www.mville.edu/undergraduate/academics/library/search-for-materials/special-collections/digital-collections-and-exhibits/social-action-at-manhattanville.html

I’ve been neglecting this space a bit, due in part to being so pleasantly absorbed in the relevant work that I haven’t thought too terribly much about putting finger to keyboard. I’ll have more to say soon, however. In the meanwhile, enjoy this link:

https://lists.columbia.edu/mailman/listinfo/comix-acadlibs

I’ve got a bit to say on this particular subject, too, but it will have to wait! I’ve just noticed it’s past time I should be working. Hi-ho!