Poole Battles On

from University of Illinois Archives

When we last left our intrepid librarian, William Poole, he was attempting to convince the library world of his superior design for large public libraries (see March 6th post)   Just as Poole outlined his grand scheme there was a new trend emerging in the library world...The Stacks.  Harvard’s Gore Library, under the direction of Justin Winsor, has just built an addition using the stack principle, ie; creating a central location for books on large free standing metal shelves.  The books were accessed by the librarian and brought to patrons in the reading room.  The benefits were clear and overwhelming:  large quantities of books were easy to store, find, re-shelve and protect and they were very hard to steal.  
Poole did not acquiesce, in fact he criticized the design at Gore Hall,  The Library of Congress and The Boston Public Library.  He definitely did not suffer from self-doubt.  By the mid-1880s most librarians were convinced of the superiority of the stack system and saw flaws in Poole’s “decentralized plan”.. but not Poole.  He went onto have an epic battle with Henry Ives Cobb, the new architect for the Newberry Library who, after touring libraries in the US and Europe, had determined that some type of stack system was most efficient.  He held his ground and would not cave into Poole’s design.  They proceeded to argue, bicker, disagree and quarrel over the design of the library for the next two years.  Poole was relentless, he hired his own architect to create alternate plans, wrote letters, begged for support and finally he won.  He wrote that “Cobb surrendered” and was jubilant that there would be no stacks and no soaring reading room at the Newberry.  In fact the final plan was almost exactly the same as the first plan Poole presented in 1881 - in ten years his thinking had not budged.

I wonder what Newberry would have thought of Poole’s great egotistical battle for the design of a library meant to “enlighten the human mind”  and I wonder what Poole would think if he could come back and see how libraries have evolved thanks to decades of understanding and reflection about their use.
Perhaps Poole should have read John Adams quote,  “facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passions, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence.”  
Then again, it sure is easy being a Monday morning quarterback and taking for granted that my library books are easy to find in the stacks of my library.

Poole's Plans

Before leaving Chicago I paused to read about the physical home of the The Newberry Library at 60 W. Walton Street.  Maybe I should rephrase that because if the Newberry was a home it would be called a mansion or even a palace.  Predictably, there was a fascinating story behind the design and construction of the building that drew me in like a lake trout in spring - I was hooked.  Houghton Wetherold’s meticulous article, The Architectural History of the Newberry Library, told the tale.  

Before even one stone was laid for the foundation of the library a passionate battle brewed about the design.  Walter Newberry (and his daughter and his wife) were long gone before the funding for the library became available in 1885 (see yesterday’s post). Eliphalet W. Blatchford and William H. Bradley, the first trustees, hired the eminent librarian Dr. William Frederick Poole to oversee the construction at the Newberry family homestead in 1887, the site was later moved to Washington Park.  Poole, a Yale graduate, had already been at the helm of the Boston Atheneum and The Chicago Public Library when he took charge at the Newberry.  He was a scholar and historian, in addition to being an expert in library administration.  He is described as, “brusque, unswerving, clever, endowed with tremendous energy and force of will”, not the type of character I’d like to get into an argument with.  

Braver men than I did argue with Poole, at the ALA meeting in 1881, about his library design ideas. Poole was against the cathedral type library (think Bates Hall or Rose Room but remember that both were yet to be built!) and argued that they were an inefficient use of space, had poor climate control, were too noisy, made it difficult to locate books and were a fire hazard (apparently he was a ‘practical pete’ and was not swayed by such things as inspiration or great beauty).  Instead he advocated for a library divided into separate rooms by subject matter, each with their own books on shelves that were low enough to allow sunlight from large windows.  Each room would have its own librarian.  Indeed the separate rooms solved the issues of space, fires, book location and solitude but librarians were not convinced that Poole’s proposal was the right solution.  What about scholars working on more than one subject?  Would there be enough natural light?  And how about the sheer number of librarians needed to staff all those rooms?  Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post when these burning questions, and more, are answered...

Polishing Minds

Photograph © Wayne Lorentz/Artefaqs Corporation

Yesterday I read about the marginalia collection at the Newberry Library in Chicago and decided to travel westward (digitally) to check it out.   The Newberry is another example of a private/public library with plenty of funding and an abundance of exhibits, speakers, collections and programs for the public.  Increasingly I am noticing the gigantic gap between true public libraries (supported by tax dollars) and independent libraries (supported by private donations and foundations).  I wonder if we are headed back in the direction of the ‘private’ library and what that would mean for children, people living in poverty and the thousands of small rural communities that stretch across the country?  But I digress.  Let’s stick to the books for today.
The Newberry is an independent research library, open to the public, with a non-circulating collection of books concentrated in the humanities.  To get a ‘readers card’ at the library you must be at least 16 years old, show proof of a permanent address and have a research topic that is appropriate for the Newberry’s Collection, but the public is welcome to visit anytime and the huge variety of classes, groups, speakers, seminars, exhibits and events offered to the public is unmatched by any of the libraries I have researched.  
Walter Loomis Newberry was a man ahead of his time.  He lived from 1804-1868 and was a wealthy businessman involved in the railroads and banking (sounds familiar).  He had a dream of his own, to create the first public library in Chicago.  He believed, "We must encourage every thing that tends to enlighten and polish the human mind.... We purpose to lay the foundation of a library which we hope to see go on increasing until it becomes the pride and boast of our city." (1841).  For whatever reason he did not embark on his dream during his lifetime, but left his dream in his will to be implemented by others.  As a good husband and father he also added a clause to his will that made his fortune unavailable until his family was no longer dependent on it.  His daughters and wife lived until 1885,  they clearly weren’t in any hurry to get to work building a library either, public or private, and so the money sat idly by, waiting.  By the time Mrs. Newberry moved to greener pastures, The Chicago Public Library was in full swing and Newberry’s $2.1 million fortune needed a new purpose.  The library trustees decided to create a “research library for scholars” instead that would compliment the public library.  The collection focuses on the history and culture of Western Europe and the Americas.
The library takes its mission of civic engagement, life long learning and service to a diverse community very seriously, its calendar is like a university catalog (without the high tuition). Chicago Magazine calls their lecture series the best in the city and sites recent talks about Satchel Paige, Shakespeare and Hyde Park’s influeunce of President Obama - what a line up!   As it turns out, Newberry’s best laid plans not only created a sanctuary for research but also provided almost daily opportunities for Chicagoans to learn that will surely keep their minds gleaming.

Word Power

One of the great simple pleasures in life is reading the “New York Times” in the morning.  Every day the paper pops up on my screen packed with new, interesting, beautifully written articles (I love things that are free) and I feel like a kid in a candy store...what to try first?    Before I know it I’ve spent an hour, that I didn’t have to spare, reading about Zimbabwe or foster care.  This is the reason that I rarely allow myself to read The Times in the morning - unless I’m on vacation.  I do allow myself a small indulgence; I set my homepage to the paper  and  before I click away to answer email, I take a minute to scan the headlines and see what I’m missing.  This morning I got lucky...the center stage article featured a picture of a library - say no more, I clicked in.  

Marginalia is a new word for me - I love learning new words - but this one is taboo for library lovers.  Marginalia is the practice of writing in the margin of books - GASP - it’s a hard word for librarians to hear and even more difficult for them to think about.  Dirk Johnson’s article, “Book Lovers Fear Dim Future for Notes in the Margins” addresses the disappearing trend of conversing with books by writing your thoughts alongside the text.  Readers vary greatly on their viewpoints about writing in books...to some it is an anathema that defaces the book while others wholeheartedly support the practice and scribble away their questions and insights.

photo from dailypoetics blog

Paul Gehl’s job depends on marginalia.  He is the the curator of the marginalia collection at the Newberry Library in Chicago (located at 60 W. Walton Street) and actually faults librarians and teachers for discouraging the practice of writing in books.  To me there is a clear ethical line for this behavior, if you own the book, write whatever and where ever you please - if it’s not yours, keep you thoughts to yourself (or get a notebook).  Most readers I know find it distasteful to open a book and discover it is filled with the thoughts of someone other than the author.  

But what if the scribbler was Mark Twain?  The Newberry Library owns just such a book, The Pen and Book written by Walter Besant and critiqued, in the margins, by Twain. Just last night I was reading Thinkertoys by Michael Michalko and he quotes Albert Paine’s biography of Twain, “on the table beside him, and on his bed, and on the billiard-room shelves, he kept the book he read most.  All, or nearly all, had annotations  - spontaneously uttered marginal notes, title prefatories, or comments.  They were the books he read again and again, and it was seldom that he had nothing to say with each fresh reading.”  The thought of rereading books to gain fresh insights is the first anomaly and how about the idea of writing down your thoughts to clarify your thinking...not habits that we regularly practice anymore.

It’s kind of funny that marginalia is considered a bonus if it is done by some people but not by others.  It’s like the difference between Banksy spray painting your garage and the lowlife gang member who hangs out on the corner doing it.  I doubt anyone would admonish William Blake, Charles Darwin or Nelson Mandela for adding their thoughts to the margin, but only because they have intelligent thoughts to add - and because they went on to become great men.  Marginalia can give readers great insights, allow them to ‘hear’ the conversation between the reader and book.  It harkens back to a time when readers too the time to thinking, questioning and reflect on what they were reading.  We should all be lucky enough to own a personal library filled with worthy books and have the time to scratch down our ‘great’ thoughts.  Who knows, maybe someday they would be treasured at The Newberry Library.