My husband smiled hesitantly. "Um..."
This is the conversation I had with my husband yesterday about going to the library. It's not that he hates the library. It's not him; it's me. Actually, I've yet to meet a person in Provo who would actually want to go to the library with me (unless they didn't know what they were getting into).
The truth is, I really love the library. Almost bordering on obsession, except that I occasionally allow regular life to get in the way of my library time. (But I'm rethinking that.) I love libraries like other book bloggers love bookshops. I come home with stacks of books just like they do, but my stacks are even more eye-rolling because there's no chance I could ever read them before the due date.
Here's a picture of the gorgeous Provo library, which I'm lucky enough to have:
|To be honest, the part you're looking at is not actually the library part of the building, but a community center of sorts...the library is in the back. But it's still beautiful!
My love of libraries originated in my childhood and was taught me by my mother. Our whole family (sans Dad, who was probably at work) was used to long library visits. We could stay as long as we wanted. If other family members weren't ready to go home, we would cheerfully sit in a chair and read until they were done. My home library wasn't that big, but it was a veritable fountain of knowledge and fun--until my mom took me to the Downtown Library.
The immense Downtown Library was breathtaking. The children's section itself took up an entire room (unlike the local library, which had about two bookcases of children's books). Best of all, my sister and I discovered that all we had to do to get there was ask my mother, and she would arrange us a trip. (Unfortunately, though, the parking meter didn't allow us to have long visits like we got regularly at the local library.) It wasn't until I was older that I realized that my mother herself, rather than vanishing into thin air after I had tripped off to the children's section, was enjoying the library just as much as I was. I had inherited (or rather, learned) my library addiction from her.
So began my library obsession, and when I lived in Cedar City for a mere four months, I was an even more frequent library visitor, because I lived only a few blocks away from the library. The Cedar library wasn't near as expansive as the Downtown Library in my hometown, but it was certainly better (and prettier) than the old, familiar local library. Finally, I moved to Provo, and was once again within walking distance of a library, this one even more beautiful and definitely bigger than the last.
Unfortunately, after learning to love the Provo library, I got married and moved too far away to be able to visit quite as often. I'm actually thinking of trying to convince my husband to move closer to it again.
Teachers of book-reading always seem to recommend buying your books. It's entirely understandable why: so you can write in them, and keep them, and pass them on to your grandchildren, etc. And to be honest, I cherish my tiny book collection, which mainly grows by inherited books, school books, and books I receive as gifts. I love these books and dream of having my own vast library. But my message to you is, in all your book buying craze, don't forget about public libraries! As a poor college student, I just don't have enough money to buy books, even if I were only to buy books I desperately love (that list grows all the time, as it does for so many of us). There's such a joy in knowing that I can have the knowledge, experience, and profound pleasure of new books and reading for no money at all. (Unless, of course, I forget to return the book on time, which of course, I have never done...ahem.) Even if you have the money to buy all the books you could ever want, don't forget to support the library so that those of us who don't have the funds you do can bask in just as much book love as you do.
Happy Library Week!