The New York Public Library is one of the world’s
great institutions. The Map Room is grand space with an impressive collection. The
Reading Room is outsized and majestic. The comprehensive Art & Architecture
Collection is housed in yet another gracious room.
I have written previously that libraries
may eventually become museums for printed books. “Are
books becoming obsolete? Is a library the only place we’ll be able to see these
odd antiquities? Will librarians admonish us to “don’t touch,” instead of
shushing chatterboxes? Are we entering a binary world where everything is
decomposed into a series of ones and zeros and then instantly reassembled on a
hand-held device?”
Nothing epitomizes this eventuality more than the
New York Public Library. There seem to be miles of marble hallways that can accommodate
twelve abreast, super-high ceilings, broad staircases galore, and very few
books. The stacks are forbidden to all except the high priesthood and nowhere
in sight. In fact, it’s rare to see a printed book even in the Reading Room.
Everybody seems engrossed in computer or iPad screens umbilicaled to handy electrical
outlets that run down the center of the tables. Only two rows of tables in the far
back restrict computers and e-readers. On the day we were there, these were the
only available seats in the expansive room.
I don’t lament the rarity of printed books, but I fear
we might lose the expertise of librarians. I saw few people get up from their prized
seats to make an inquiry to one of the staff. I suspect if they wanted an
answer, they Googled it at their table. What a shame. My experience with
librarians is that they are not only highly knowledgeable, but eager to share
their knowledge. Unique nuggets of information cannot be discovered on Google,
but a librarian can point you toward a source that can elicit a eureka
moment. Print is a medium and a book can be presented in other formats without
losing all of its worth. On the other hand, the demise of librarians would be a
tragedy.
