Once a refuge from outside media, libraries now embrace them
Monday, June 30th, 2008By Diane Evans
OK, I’m going to date myself. I can remember walking to the neighborhood library at a time when libraries (and bookstores) were not multimedia experiences. No DVDs, no books on tape, and certainly, nothing close to a computer. That was when books, periodicals and newspapers were enough.
In those days, if there was an experience that countered the media, it was your time at the library. What you saw on billboards, or what you heard in rock’n’roll lyrics, did not appear connected in any way to the display of books that librarians put out for kids like me to read. In my working-class neighborhood, lots of kids didn’t go to college. But most of us seemed to understand that books and reading had a lot to do with learning.
Whether it’s evolution or the reverse, libraries and bookstores have come full circle, so that now, instead of standing apart from media, they are one with the media.
If you don’t believe this, then just put yourself in front of a display of best-selling titles. There’s Barbara Walters writing an autobiography in which she breaks news of her past love affair. Or Eminem’s mother, ratting on her rapper son. Or Valerie Bertinelli, on losing weight and telling the world.
In a recent commentary in the Washington Post, Jonathan Karp, a publisher within the Hachette Book Group, described pop books as “self-aggrandizing memoirs by recovering addicts; poignant portraits of heroic pets; hyperbolic ideological tracts by insufferable cable TV pundits; guides to staying wrinkle- and toxin-free; odes to Warren Buffett and Jesus Christ; manifestos for fixing America in 12 easy steps; manly accounts of the best athlete/season/team ever; and glittery novels about British royalty, love-starved shoppers, mournful cops and ingenious serial killers.”
Where’s the balance?
It’s as if the pursuit of reading, in a giant leap, has gone from being too snobbishly intellectual to too much like the lowest common denominator of mass media.
For the book industry, life has always been about selling books. But there was a time when books and wrinkle-free ointments belonged in very different categories.
Sure, as readers, we have more choices. But sometimes there is paradox as a result of having more choices. As a nation, we have overweight children juxtaposed against crazes in dieting and fitness. Our instant 24-7 communication is often at the expense of meaningful dialogue and understanding. Our material wealth can and does give rise to the spiritual and emotional poverty that then becomes the subject of more new books.
Are we better readers? More informed and thoughtful?
Most of all, I remember the quiet in the library where I went as a kid. In the quiet, you can absorb what you read, and reflect on it. If the answer to one question leads to another question, then you could go search out the answer. That’s not a media experience. That’s the learning experience.
OK, I’m going to date myself. I can remember walking to the neighborhood library at a time when libraries (and bookstores) were not multimedia experiences. No DVDs, no books on tape, and certainly, nothing close to a computer. That was when books, periodicals and newspapers were enough.
In those days, if there was an experience that countered the media, it was your time at the library. What you saw on billboards, or what you heard in rock’n’roll lyrics, did not appear connected in any way to the display of books that librarians put out for kids like me to read. In my working-class neighborhood, lots of kids didn’t go to college. But most of us seemed to understand that books and reading had a lot to do with learning.
Whether it’s evolution or the reverse, libraries and bookstores have come full circle, so that now, instead of standing apart from media, they are one with the media.
If you don’t believe this, then just put yourself in front of a display of best-selling titles. There’s Barbara Walters writing an autobiography in which she breaks news of her past love affair. Or Eminem’s mother, ratting on her rapper son. Or Valerie Bertinelli, on losing weight and telling the world.
In a recent commentary in the Washington Post, Jonathan Karp, a publisher within the Hachette Book Group, described pop books as “self-aggrandizing memoirs by recovering addicts; poignant portraits of heroic pets; hyperbolic ideological tracts by insufferable cable TV pundits; guides to staying wrinkle- and toxin-free; odes to Warren Buffett and Jesus Christ; manifestos for fixing America in 12 easy steps; manly accounts of the best athlete/season/team ever; and glittery novels about British royalty, love-starved shoppers, mournful cops and ingenious serial killers.”
Where’s the balance?
It’s as if the pursuit of reading, in a giant leap, has gone from being too snobbishly intellectual to too much like the lowest common denominator of mass media.
For the book industry, life has always been about selling books. But there was a time when books and wrinkle-free ointments belonged in very different categories.
Sure, as readers, we have more choices. But sometimes there is paradox as a result of having more choices. As a nation, we have overweight children juxtaposed against crazes in dieting and fitness. Our instant 24-7 communication is often at the expense of meaningful dialogue and understanding. Our material wealth can and does give rise to the spiritual and emotional poverty that then becomes the subject of more new books.
Are we better readers? More informed and thoughtful?
Most of all, I remember the quiet in the library where I went as a kid. In the quiet, you can absorb what you read, and reflect on it. If the answer to one question leads to another question, then you could go search out the answer. That’s not a media experience. That’s the learning experience.
Diane Evans is founder and president of DelMio.com.
