I've been reading Sex and the Library over the past several weeks (and I see that I'm not the only one). I really like this blog. The author (who, as far as I can tell, does not reveal her identity) uses SatL to discuss her days and nights working in a public library, and particularly her interactions with library patrons (many of whom we might conclude are perhaps in need of professional psychiatric intervention).
The focus here is on the seamier side of library life, the things that are distracting, disgusting, or downright disturbing. This weblogger has a gift for describing her world with a sense of humor and for sharing that "ick" feeling brought on by some of her experiences in the library (consider her choice for a URL: http://whereismyhandsanitizer.blogspot.com/). Though she is obviously put off by many of her interactions, she acknowledges some of her own biases (confessing, for example, that she has a germ phobia) and her reactions seem quite natural given what she describes. SatL offers vivid descriptions of some of the grim reality of what it can be like to work in a public library.
Sometimes this weblog leaves me feeling, well, just a little bit dirty. It isn't just imagining the scenes the author describes that makes me feel that way (though it certainly helps). It's that I feel a bit dirty because I am drawn into these descriptions in a voyeuristic way. And even more so, I feel dirty because, reading so much about the seemingly insurmountable problems confronting this particular library (also not identified), I begin to feel overwhelmed about the prospects for the public library commons overall.
Let me reiterate, I like Sex and the Library (the weblog, I mean). It is engaging and entertaining, and it is a fine addition to the online commons.
But SatL implicitly raises issues that are quite complex and that go to the heart of managing the library commons. And those unresolved issues are the most significant cause of my feeling of dirtiness precisely because they challenge our (well, my) warm and fuzzy feelings about the library commons. Because sometimes when I am reading SatL, I find myself wondering whether it is possible to resolve the problems that library faces without just hiring a security guard and throwing problem patrons out the door. And then I have to wonder what that feeling says about my support for the library commons.
Don't despair, though. This is ultimately good news, to me anyway. Because SatL serves to remind us that a library commons, like other commons, is a real place, a real part of a community. And community living, much as we might value it, is not easy. Sometimes it is downright messy.
In large part because libraries are among our most open and accessible public spaces, they sometimes serve as shelters, in one way or another, for social problems our communities as a whole are not addressing. This, in turn, can become a problem for library patrons and employees. Librarians are not trained or equipped to be babysitters, counsellors, social workers, or cops.
Life isn't easy in the library commons. Difficulties abound, and library employees and patrons alike sometimes suffer as a result. Managing the library commons requires balancing the principles and values of the commons, the needs of a community, and the needs of individuals. Sex and the Library doesn't try to give us any answers about how to do this. But it does give us glimpses of what it is like when they are out of balance.
[commons-blog]
