The National Library of Canada...

[fajrdrako]

I spent most of the afternoon doing research in the National Library of Canada. I've been there before, but not for many years. I used to go when I was an undergraduate at Carleton University, and I remember they made me jump through hoops to get the authorization to go in. I was left thinking it was an elitist place that probably wouldn't let me in.

But, encouraged yesterday by maaseru and John, I went today and got a card without much hassle, using my passport as identification. I then spent time reading a book that has always fascinated me, L'Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal. I have read it before, but really don't remember as much as I might; the only printed version, a three-volume set from 1891, is difficult to find, and is fragile. It is more than 19,000 lines of Anglo-Norman verse, and so is difficult to read quickly.

I knew the National Library had a copy, because I'd got it once on Interlibrary Loan through the Public Library. (But they wouldn't let me take it home. The nerve.) When I asked for it this morning the library expressed doubt. "We don't usually handle that kind of material," she said. "We're mandated to carry Canadian history, you know." I couldn't tell whether she was dissing my unpatriotic study of European history, or apologizing for the library's insufficiencies. I refrained from saying, "How chauvinistic of you." They did, of course, have the book.

Because it is fragile, I had to read it in room 25, wearing white gloves (which they provided), and use of pens is not allowed. Luckily, I'd put a good pencil into my bag this morning, somewhat by accident rather than good planning.

I luxuriated in the place. I'm used to the Ottawa Public Library - a good place, don't get me wrong, but it's crowded with books and people and the air conditioning seldom seems quite right and the librarians are always busy. In the National Library, there is a hush. The air conditioning is perfect - and that's important, since it was (maaseru tells me) 40-something degrees Celsius outdoors today, or 106^o Fahrenheit. But in this cool, not-too-bright, not-to-dim room with its high ceilings and a view of the Ottawa River through its floor-to-ceilng windows with vertical blinds, I felt as if I was in an ivory tower. The table I was working at was maybe 10' by 15', and I had it all to myself. There was a space of about 10' between each table and the next, and no more than three or four people working in the whole huge room at any one time. Everything seemed fresh and clean and spacious and artistic.

I loved it. I worked until my eyes started to blur and my brain balked at understanding Anglo-Norman and the muscles of my pencil-wielding hand started to ache.

The good part? My card is valid for a whole year.

Makes me feel, if only temporarily, like the real scholar I want to be.

I took some pictures when I was leaving, just for the fun of it.

First,

The statue outside the National Library. It is called "The Secret Bench of Knowledge", and is by Toronto artist Lea Vivot.
Besides being a lovely statue, it has a delightful history.

~ ~ ~


A fountain in the garden to the left of the main doors.

~ ~ ~


"The Secret Bench of Knowledge" as seen from the garden,
with the entrance to the National Library to the left of the picture.
The person sitting on the bench is real, not part of the sculpture -
she was waiting for someone to pick her up.

Comments

[walkingowl.livejournal.com]

Real Scholar, indeed. Outward trappings to reflect the inner truth!

The white cotton gloves... gad, to be able to handle a book that actually needs this, such a joy it must have been. Think of all the other hands that have held it. The ones who read it... what colors were their eyes?

I smile. I love such stuff.

I gently disagree with your caption: the person sitting on the bench is real, but she is not "not part of the sculpture," mia kara -- as soon as she sat, she became part of the sculpture. Was that not part of the entire intention of the art? hm

Hearing about being inside a wonderful library on a steaming-hot day was as refreshing for me, I think, as it must have been for you to have been there.

By the way: do you know that your digital camera can take pictures of the book's pages? There is a setting it has (I assume this; maybe it does not have it) called "macro." Macro allows you to hold the lens closer than usual without getting you any distortion. Think about it. Leaves from the book as screensavers....

[fajrdrako.livejournal.com]

Well, truthfully, I suspect not many other people have read this book in the past 5 years, possibly even the past century. Not many people try to read Anglo-Norman, and not many people are as obsessed with the 12th century as I am. There's a similar book at the Carleton U library, where I suspect I am the only person who has ever read it. Well... fine by me.

It isn't fragile because it's been read a lot, but because it's old and paper gets brittle and the glue in bindings falls apart.

I don't know what colours the eyes of the other readers were, but I'd love to know the eye colour of the Lusignan brothers I am researching.

Well, yes, she was part of the sculpture but not a part the artist put there. I was myself part of the sculpture when I sat there, a little while later.

My camera lacks settings. My camera is an ignoramus of the camera world, which is what happens when you buy the cheapest model Costco has. One day, when I have a little money, I will get a better camera. I did fantasize a little about having the ability to do that. Some day, maybe!

[walkingowl.livejournal.com]

I suspect I am the only person who has ever read it. Well... fine by me.

Indeed. I love the very image of such a thing.

My campus library has a book sale every spring; last year, for one dollar, I bought an unabridged Webster's dictionary, 1960 ... which I recognized as the dictionary that had sat on the pedestel in the main library hall 25 years ago, when I was an undergraduate here. O, the thoguhts it brought to mind!

Well, yes, she was part of the sculpture but not a part the artist put there. I was myself part of the sculpture when I sat there, a little while later.

Hmmm... performance art. Think of a video camera trained on this bench all day. (If people can sell eight-hour videos of a fishbowl, well...!)

My camera lacks settings... One day, when I have a little money, I will get a better camera...

Costco, hm? What I have here that compares -- Best Buy. What would you say to a Canon 5-pixel with zoom lens and settings, for $180 US? I know, still a lot of money. Want me to look into it for you? Remember the Wolverine phone: there could be a great deal out there somewhere, eh?

[fajrdrako.livejournal.com]

An eight-hour video of a fishbowl sounds like a screensaver. I do have a video of a fire burning in a fireplace - it's fun to play. Especially in December.

I'm not going to buy a camera at any price until I've paid off all my debts!

[walkingowl.livejournal.com]

I know what you mean. I browse DVD sets but know I need to put that off indefinitely, no matter how attractive the price. Nice to think about, tho'.

Back in the early 1990s, I somehow ran across a program (I think it was on one of the transponders on one of Canada's two ANIK television satellites) showing odd stuff from local cable-TV channels around the world. One from Germany had a film clip for insomniacs, which played all night long: it was a handful of actors dressed up to look like sheep, playing leap-frog with each other from left to right across the screen... nonstop... and it was strangely addictive....

[fajrdrako.livejournal.com]

Leap-frogging sheep actors? My goodness. Brings to mind 200 sheep in steel helmets. (Dunnett reference.)

There are DVD sets I'd like too, but it's like with books: I already have more than I have time to read or watch. This is the time to not buy things.