A whirlwind of thoughts is twirling through my head, picking up other ideas along the way.

I found his speech was breathtaking. When it came to asking questions, although I was able to think of a question, there was so much to ask. I’m still thinking about it and still thinking of questions I want to ask.

And I want to do justice to his lecture. So, tomorrow I’ll publish a longer piece on it. Subscribe by email to get tomorrow’s essay emailed to you.

In This Essay

“Do School Libraries Need Books?” from Room for Debate, The New York Times, February 10, 2010

“The Library, Through Students’ Eyes” from Room for Debate, The New York Times, February 14, 2010

“A library without books” by David Abel, The Boston Globe, September 4, 2009

“Is Google Making Us Stupid?”, by Nicholas Carr, The Atlantic, July/August 2008

I remember reading in The Boston Globe last September that a private school in Massachusetts had given up its collection of books. I was aghast.

That Cushing Academy gave away collection of books, turning its library into a digital media center, continues to bother me.

Since reading that article, I have thought a lot about the role of libraries in our society. I have library cards for three different library systems here in Massachusetts. I joined the Boston Athenaeum, a membership library, last December after writing about them in a December 11th’s Weekly Review.

Libraries are important places. Digital technology cannot yet replace — and I hope never will — brick-and-mortar libraries.

I love going to physical libraries. I love browsing the stacks.

One afternoon while wandering through the shelves, I came across The Poet’s Guide to Life: The Wisdom of Rilke a collection of fragments from Rilke’s letters, collected into thematic chapters by Ulrich Baer. Without the serendipity of walking through the stacks, I would never have found the book because I would never have thought to look for it.

I walked into the Boston Athenaeum on Saturday to visit again the art exhibit I reviewed last week, An Artist + A Poet. Walking around the new acquisitions displays on the first floor, I found Young Rilke and His Times by George C. Schoolfield. Again, I never would have thought to look for this book but I’m glad to have borrowed it.

That’s one weakness I find in my own Internet research. There is so much information out there, that unless I know what I am looking for, I have trouble finding anything at all. Reading from the Internet encourages us to read shallowly and seek a particular piece of information and continue on.

We have become sifters.

But when we enter a library, we are looking for knowledge in a broader sense than we are when we begin an Internet search. When we begin an Internet search, we are looking for answers to specific questions. When we enter a library, we are looking for answers, yes, but I think we are open to letting those answers inspire additional questions in ways we aren’t on the Internet.

All the same, I am no luddite. I know that the Internet is changing the way that we think and organize information. Perhaps libraries will become obsolete.

But I hope that we continue recognize the value of books and libraries. There are no pop-up advertisements in books, nor banner ads in libraries. Just as online, there are other things — more books, though, rather than more sites — vying for our attention in a library. Yet, I find myself able to become immersed in a book in a way that I have never seen translated online.

I hope that we keep these quiet bowers.

What are your thoughts? Share them with us.

Do libraries hold any special memories for you? Have you moved completely online? Do libraries have a future, or only a past?

About the Exhibition

The exhibition An Artist + A Poet runs in the Norma Jean Calderwood Gallery of the Boston Athenaeum from February 10, 2010 through April 10, 2010. This exhibition is open to the public. The Boston Athenaeum, 10½ Beacon St., Boston, Massachusetts 02108.

I had never heard of George Nama nor Charles Simic before seeing an announcement for a joint exhibition of their works at the Boston Athenaeum. But after spending time in the exhibition, I am glad that I know them now. I wish that I had known about them sooner.

The opening reception was last night, one of the Boston Athenaeum’s event open to the public. I was not quite sure what to expect.

The Athenaeum puts on a lovely reception. The reception was an excellent opportunity to become acquainted with these two artists. A nice selection of cheeses; two nice wines — Trapiche Malbec and Ca Donini Pinot Grigio; and orange punch. A jazz trio played throughout the evening.

I liked the way the work was presented. About two dozen poems by Charles Simic were presented on the same page with etchings by George Nama. These were no ordinary pages, however. If I were to hold each page by its short edge, it would be about the width of my shoulders along the short edge and the distance from my shoulders to my knees along the long edge.

George Nama did versions of works as both etchings and paintings. Several paintings were on display. Many paintings hung near the page that included the etched version.

The presentation of Charles Simic’s poetry reminded me of the work The Malady of Death by Marguerite Duras. When you get close enough, the poem takes up your whole field of vision. I felt the world slip away, leaving nothing but me and the poem. Even the etchings faded away.

One poem, in particularly, called to me. It seemed to sit inside a larger world than some of the other poems.

The Vices of Evening

It’s the way the light and shadow
Pair off at the corner
While the night crowds to see
Behind our backs,

Perhaps catch us by surprise
With a single burnt matchstick
Left in someone’s hand,
Who forgot why he lit it

Unless it was for a lost dog
To find his way home
Through weedy lots
And past the painted women.

Charles Simic

There’s a good sampling of figuration and variations on figuration in George Nama’s work. I thought of the progressively more abstract sculpture series by Henri Matisse, The Back. In some of Nama’s works, you could see where he began with a human form and then created something abstract from it. I would hate to admit this to my art history professor, but I was more interested in Charles Simic’s work than I was in the abstracted figures of George Nama.

As I was leaving the lobby, I noticed a bas relief portrait of Dante that I hadn’t noticed before. I could not help thinking, “Abandon all hope, ye who exit here.”

Form Your Own Opinion.
Buy works by the artists from Amazon.com.

• The Book of Gods and Devils by Charles Simic
• That Little Something by Charles Simic
• The Malady of Death by Marguerite Duras (Barbara Bray, trans.)