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A Moscow Library Interior

Library no. 166, Nagorny Boulevard, 3 (Moscow, Russia)

Carola Huttmann has once narrated her childhood experience of visiting the library, looking for books, using the library card. I certainly share her story of a love affair, having been using libraries since I was 6.

Between 1997 and now I’ve worked in about a dozen of libraries, including the British Library in London (particularly the Manuscript Department), the John Rylands Library in Manchester, the Public Record Office at Kew Gardens in London, and the Duke Humphrey’s Library at the Bodleian Library in Oxford. The experience of going into every such “big” library is indescribable: not because you cannot find the exact definitions for your impressions, but because all the impressions – joy, proud, humility, overwhelm, passion – compound one another, whereby the best thing to do is to read the face and the eyes of the person who talks about their experience of being in this reservoir of knowledge. Those impressions double when you sit in the British Library’s cafe, next to a huge glass cube full of books from George III’s library, eating a bagle with soft cheese and salmon and feeling kind of guilty of spending time in vain (eating, that is!), while right next to you stands solemnly this mesmerising vastness of culture.

Meeting the world-known scholars once again makes the experience of visiting the library even more colourful. I’ve only recognised two, and I should have enough sense of humour to tell the stories. At the Public Record Office I once had to sing off a form that allowed me to take the books (Calendars of State Papers) downstairs to photocopy. A couple of lines above stood of the name of Prof. John Guy, one of the leading Tudor scholars, whose books I had obviously read. ‘WOW‘, I thought, ‘I’m at the same place and the same time as John Guy – things are happening!‘ Better yet, a few moments later I saw Prof. Guy himself, and, being polite people, we even nodded to each other. I should have introduced myself, but at that moment the fact of seeing the professor overshadowed the opportunity to actually get acquainted.

The same happened at the British Library, where I mistook Prof. Sydney Anglo for an unknown scholar from the former Soviet republic of Georgia (if you’ve seen Georgians, you may be able to understand me). It took me to get back to my small room in Fitzroy St to realise that I saw the person who brilliantly dissected Macchiavelli, illuminated the Tudor pageantry from the inside, and had recently published a book on martial arts in Renaissance Europe. I saw both professors during my first visit to London, a rather overwhelming experience, as some of you know.

In the majority of academic libraries you cannot wander along the shelves, randomly touching the age-old bindings. This opportunity is reserved for local libraries where you can indeed touch and feel the books immediately. I spent about ten minutes yesterday with a collection of antique poetry before I had to leave. I feel somewhat puzzled at the fact that in most these libraries the alphabetic collections will combine all sorts of literature. A philosophy textbook will stand next to the crime story by a modern author, and the two will be flanked by a cooking book on one side and a poetry collection – on another. And yet, it is in these quaint rooms with bookshelves full of all sorts of books a nascent passion for beauty, knowledge, and language is first discovered…

2 thoughts on “A Moscow Library Interior”

  1. Wonderful post, Julia. Many thanks for linking to my blog. I share your respect for Prof. Guy and his writings.

    One of the few things I miss about living in England are my visits to the John Rylands and Bodleian libraries whenever I was in Manchester or Oxford.

  2. You reminded me that I NEVER shared any Oxford photos. They were taken on a film camera in 2004. I've not been there since, so maybe they are not the best photos in general, but good memories nonetheless 🙂

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