The readings for this week focus on “Public Library purposes”. F.B. Perkins writes from the perspective of the smaller library, while Michael Harris decries the supposed elitism of the larger library. Dain refutes the main points of Harris’s arguments and Ditzion examines the rise of the library based on the culture of the Northeastern United States.
F.B. Perkins, writing in 1876 on behalf of the U.S. Department of the Interior, writes about the need for the consideration of business models when establishing new libraries. He notes that collection choices, similar to merchandise choices must be made in consideration of the patrons of the library. While he vehemently comes out against pulp novels, he suggests that there is a gulf between the idealized serious reading librarians envision for their space, and the actual, more recreational reading that will take place within most libraries. A full 75% of the circulation is “light reading” according to Perkins (p.422).
In making such suggestions, Perkins goes on to provide an early model for accessions records, and catalogues of the library’s contents. While these ideas seem practical and rational, other ideas such as his sexist remarks with regards to women as being particularly catty in the workplace seem passé. However, he does provide some clear insight into his philosophy about librarianship when he suggests that “the library should do whatever is asked of it (p. 428).
Ditzion’s “The Humanitarian Idea” focuses on the early marketing and promotion of libraries in America and abroad. The author suggests that early library funding appeals were based on the library’s perceived ability to preserve morals and cure perceived social ills.
Rising out of the same era that would see the formation of the Y.M.C.A. movement, the library movement flourished in such places that catered to women working in the factories of the day. The formation of such libraries would eventually lead to larger libraries, such as the Boston Public Library and eventually, the New York Public Library.
Coinciding with the rise of public education the mission of these new public libraries was not only social uplift, but social up-keep. In this era, a librarian wasn’t merely a librarian; he\she was also a guardian of moral standards by as judged by the books that were allowed to circulate within her\his domain. Reading was thought to be a salve for social ills so much that book distribution programs were established in prisons of the day. Many of the early leaders of the library movement were also leaders in the temperance movement. As a consequence of this connection, many books, such as Swiss Family Robinson that are now considered classics were banned from the Temperance Society libraries for their references to the demon drink.
As is noted in the Conclusions section, the war against alcohol was not won in the early libraries. The author of the text, and this author are both doubtful of the ability of librarians to cajole people into choosing not to drink when even the most qualified doctor has a high failure rate in such efforts.
Yet, even as that rationale proved to be a pipe-dream, the library did\ does provide a place for the working person to study trades, and gain job skills.
Ever the contrarian, Michael Harris writes with the tone of Rush Limbaugh, and an eye towards revisionist history (sans a comprehensive perspective about his subject). No one in their right mind would pretend that the world of 1800’s America was a utopia, Harris insists that this is the world view that library historians have taken. My own experience studying librarianship alone disproves his theory, given my exposure to the horrifying racism of Dewey and my knowledge of segregation as it relates to Libraries in 20th Century America. He pretends that everyone is rosy-eyed about the past of librarianship by focusing on narrow examples of “authoritarian” librarians who practiced “censorship” negating to mention the cultural climate at the time. To critique in such a way as he does calls into question his own views on equality, such is his mocking. Rather than offering insights he offers sly condemnation that removes his own responsibility as a student of the craft, and places the blame on others. The name dropping of Hitler and fascism further renders his critique amateurish and devoid of serious inquiry.
Phyllis Dain exposes Michael Harris’s essay as being “without rigorous analysis, solid verification or appreciation of complexity.” Furthermore she states that it rest on “incomplete evidence” and is “too emphatic” based on such limited evidence (Dain, P. 261).
She suggest that leaders such as Ticknor were not mere liberals or conservatives, but rather complex individuals dedicated to raising morals while at the same time providing for the poor. While some might question the stated purpose of early libraries, Dain suggests that the purposes provided a rationale for funding that was less dynamic than the actual purpose of the library in an effort to secure support.
Dain questions the basis for Harris’s conclusions given the relative few works in the Library History genre. She questions his claims of elitism based on her knowledge of the way in which people described as “bookish” typically find themselves employed – in studies of the word.
Furthermore, she couches the claims of elitism in collection development with her knowledge of the early librarian’s desire for professionalism akin to lawyers and doctors. Just as a doctor cannot attain status without prescribing serious remedies, so too can a librarian not attain status without looking after the best needs of their readership, and their community at large. Furthermore, such moves towards morals were not merely the work of librarians, but were, and still are, a function of Puritanical forces within the communities of service.
Dain notes that Harris rests his critique of the library’s usefulness to the community on the spurious statistic of static circulation numbers (while providing no evidence for such statistics). However, just as a patron can leave a store without buying anything, but still find value in what is observed (possibly enticing future purchases\visits for books or programs), circulation numbers do not tell the full story of the value of the library to the patron, or to the community. Is a police station valuable only for the numbers of murders it solves, or is it valuable for those it prevents, and other services provided? Just as the police are an essential community service, functioning in dynamic ways that defy statistics, so too is the same true for the modern library.
The work of Elaine Fain in her article “Manners and Morals in the Public Library: A Glance at Some New History”, points out where Michael Harris has further missed the mark. She contrasts his work with that of Dee Garrison who focuses on the “feminization” of the library (Fain, p.99). Garrison claims that the profession has become feminized, where Harris complains that the library has become in effect, unopinionated about the books it collects and circulates. Harris finds nothing but ill in the situation, where Garrison finds it fits the description of the domesticization of the library, as women recast the library as a “homelike”, inviting atmosphere. According to Fain, Such emphasis can be explained in the fact of Harris’s focus on the larger libraries, and Garrison’s focus on smaller libraries, as noted by the bibliography of each article (Fain, p.103).
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