From August 21, 2008: Whether you usually read off of your own book pile or from the library shelves NOW, chances are you started off with trips to the library. (There’s no way my parents could otherwise have kept up with my book habit when I was 10.) So … What is your earliest memory of a library? Who took you? Do you have you any funny/odd memories of the library?
I spent a lot of my childhood and teens in the library. Usually it was the Hampton Park Branch of the Ottawa Public Library - anyone else remember that one, tucked away behind the stores? It always felt like a second home to me. I'm sure my parents took me to a library in preschool days, but I don't remember it. By the time I remember going to libraries, they were familiar and beloved places.
My first clear library memory was of the first time I checked out a book. I was six, and in Grade One. The Bookmobile came to Hilson Avenue Public School, and each person in my class was given a library card, printed on pink cardstock with their name at the top. We were told we could each take a book, and after some careful searching I picked up
Johnny Crow's Garden. I didn't know it was a classic until two minutes ago, when I googled for it; but the cover picture of the lion and the sunflowers and the crow has stuck in my head all this time, with pleasure.
I remember this event because the librarian said to my teacher, "Isn't she too young to read this?" I was worried, then. I thought they were going to take my book away, and give me something childish and dull.
Instead the teacher smiled at me and said, "I think she can handle it."
I felt very proud, all the more so because my intent had been to ask my mother to read it to me. But fortified by the teacher's faith in me, I think I read it for myself.
Most of my other library memories are from much later - early teens - and are related to specific books. For instance, there was a long row of Georgette Heyer novels with matching bindings and colourful illustrations. I looked at that row of books for quite a while before deciding to check out
The Nonesuch. Even looking at that cover gives me a happy sense of nostalgia. I wasn't sure what I made of it - it was a strange new universe there - but I loved it and went back for more, reading all the way across that shelf of books.
I don't remember the day I first found
The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett, but I do remember the day I discovered
The Disorderly Knights, the third in the Lymond series, the one set in Malta. I'd thought
The Game of Kings was a solo book by an author who'd written nothing else. Then I saw this new book: Dorothy Dunnett, it said on the cover. I wondered if I'd misremembered the author's name, so I read the book jacket.
Lymond, it said. It was another book about Lymond. It also said there was a book between this and
The Game of Kings, called
Queen's Play, but it was checked out, and there's no way I could patiently wait for it to come back. So I read
The Disorderly Knights out of order.
Then after
Queen's Play, which was eventually returned to the shelf, I had to wait for Dorothy Dunnett to write the next book in the series. It felt like a long wait. (It was.) One day I wandered in through the library doors, where they had a long hallway and a display case, and there was
Pawn in Frankincense on display, published at last. We're supposed to be quiet in libraries, but I squeed.
Graduating from the Children's Books to Young Adult to (a little before my proper time) Adult Books felt like important rites of passage.