Corder’s Creative Corner: An observation

I don’t go into libraries very often. I prefer to buy my books instead of borrowing them. But on occasion, I like to stroll inside an Athenaeum. Being among a great quantity of books tends to relax me. Some people go to the spa, I go to my local library.

Going to the library was my safe space in high school. I’d go every day after lunch and hide among the hallways of shelves. It was quiet, without the annoying abrasiveness of adolescence itching at my ear or the unwanted gab of a teacher’s lectures laying siege to the portcullis of my mind. In the library I could take rides on dragons, stalk the shadows with vampires, and scour the woods with a bow in my hand. I could write my dour poems and fantasy stories. The library was a haven.

And it still is. Libraries are, as they should be, quiet. And so I go there. Even when I have a break during the school day, I like to retreat behind the walls and hide among the towers bricked together by books. I won’t be bothered there.

Which is somewhat unfortunate.

You see, the last few times I’ve gone into a library, and they have been spread out, sporadic occasions, I assure you, I’ve made an observation: I am alone among the fortress of tomes. If there are other people in the library with me, they are not beside me, wandering the aisles of books. They are on the computers, or they are at a corner table, charging their phone while they scroll through it. They’re ignoring the books.

I find this odd. It’s like entering an art gallery where people are more enamored with the color of the building’s walls than the actual paintings that have been put on display. They have missed the entire point of coming to the destination in mind. Of course, it’s wonderful that there is a free service that provides utilitarian usage of technology for those who don’t have access to it. I am not arguing that point. What I’m saying is, the halls of literacy are hollow and casting loud echoes.

As I said: an observation. Hopefully, one that will change.