Years ago I worked in a library with a guy who’d get strangely annoyed by the books that were coming in. This was a university library and you could say some of the titles that passed through our hands on their way to the shelves were a little obscure or specialized. Or you couldn’t say that. I mean, you don’t have to. Anyway, he’d bring me something like So, You Want To Learn Coptic? and he’d almost yell, “Who reads this stuff?”
Somebody, hopefully, I always thought. And libraries make a lot of purchasing decisions based on patron requests, so even if he didn’t want to learn Coptic chances are somebody did. I never could figure out why it annoyed him so much that other people read books that didn’t interest him. I even kind of wanted to follow him around to see if it wasn’t just books. I imagined him in the grocery store pointing at random vegetables and yelling, “Who eats this stuff?” Or in a department store pointing at paisley shirts yelling, “Who wears this stuff?” Or at home channel-surfing and lingering over some show he didn’t like just so he could yell, “Who watches this stuff?”
I thought about that guy when I saw my first Little Free Library, pictured above, on a trip to St. Louis a few years ago. And I remembered it again just a few days ago when I found a Little Free Library in a neighborhood near where I live.
It’s funny to me to find two copies of The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin–an author who inspired another post last summer.
In fact it turns out there are a lot of Little Free Libraries near me, in addition to the regular libraries.
And, thinking about it, I realize I do wonder, who reads this stuff? Somebody, hopefully. I’d only really be annoyed if no one did.