"Ask Me What I'm Reading!"
Apr. 1st, 2007 10:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zenithblueThe library I work for recently printed a bunch of little tags that say "Ask Me What I'm Reading!" You can then print an image of the book you want to talk about in the space beneath, and pin it to your nametag. They're very excited about this as a way to foster conversation and find new opportunities to provide a reader's advisory.
On Friday I had a conversation with one of the young hip youth services people about why I hated, loathed, and scorned this idea. Okay, to be fair, it was less a conversation than a diatribe on my part. But it was still sort of an interesting exchange.
Zenithblue: It just opens a can of worms that's not really practical to open while at a public desk. I mean, what if I'm reading something sexually charged or violent or philosophically challenging or religious in nature?
Youth Services Babe: (giving me a sort of are-you-stupid look) But...you don't have to put what you're actually reading on the tag. I mean, I have The Memory Keeper's Daughter just because it's a good recommendation, not because I'm reading it right now.
ZB: Well, I know, but I think having a conversation about books at a public desk, as a clerk, is kind of a bad idea. Any books. I mean, we're not supposed to "see" what other people are checking out, we're not supposed to comment on someone's choice of books, but suddenly we're inviting them to invade our intellectual space and reveal something about ourselves? Don't get me wrong, I love talking about books. I love it. But I'm there trying to take care of their accounts and handle their fines and how much are they going to trust me to do my appointed government-official work if I tell them one of my favorite books is about a love affair between a thirteen-year-old girl and her stepfather? I mean, Portland is pretty permissive, but there are lots of people here nonetheless who'd flip out.
YSB: Well sure, but you just try to pick something fairly safe.
ZB: ...and that's my main problem, the idea that there are "safe" books. All books should be safe. All books should be dangerous. I have no interest in a guarded and euphemistic thirty second conversation with someone about a book.
YSB: You're awfully passionate for someone who works in a bureaucracy.
The whole conversation was fueled by my early Barnes and Noble trauma, the summer I worked at the really lousy Anchorage location. The idea that we were supposed to speak glowingly and excitedly about the one book they were trying to push, even though we hadn't read it: I refused and ground in my heels. This feels like the opposite of that, a move towards a self-censoring conversation about a book I possibly feel passionate about (or else a half-hearted suggestion about a book I found mediocre). Anyone who's read more than one of my posts knows I love talking about and recommending books. I've recommended plenty of books even in my capacity as a library clerk, but only after I get a feel for where the patron is coming from and what they're interested in. I'm not going to put out a generalized, democratized, bland, middle-of-the-road and wholly unoffensive book on my chest for anyone to ask about. I won't have that hanging by my heart.
On Friday I had a conversation with one of the young hip youth services people about why I hated, loathed, and scorned this idea. Okay, to be fair, it was less a conversation than a diatribe on my part. But it was still sort of an interesting exchange.
Zenithblue: It just opens a can of worms that's not really practical to open while at a public desk. I mean, what if I'm reading something sexually charged or violent or philosophically challenging or religious in nature?
Youth Services Babe: (giving me a sort of are-you-stupid look) But...you don't have to put what you're actually reading on the tag. I mean, I have The Memory Keeper's Daughter just because it's a good recommendation, not because I'm reading it right now.
ZB: Well, I know, but I think having a conversation about books at a public desk, as a clerk, is kind of a bad idea. Any books. I mean, we're not supposed to "see" what other people are checking out, we're not supposed to comment on someone's choice of books, but suddenly we're inviting them to invade our intellectual space and reveal something about ourselves? Don't get me wrong, I love talking about books. I love it. But I'm there trying to take care of their accounts and handle their fines and how much are they going to trust me to do my appointed government-official work if I tell them one of my favorite books is about a love affair between a thirteen-year-old girl and her stepfather? I mean, Portland is pretty permissive, but there are lots of people here nonetheless who'd flip out.
YSB: Well sure, but you just try to pick something fairly safe.
ZB: ...and that's my main problem, the idea that there are "safe" books. All books should be safe. All books should be dangerous. I have no interest in a guarded and euphemistic thirty second conversation with someone about a book.
YSB: You're awfully passionate for someone who works in a bureaucracy.
The whole conversation was fueled by my early Barnes and Noble trauma, the summer I worked at the really lousy Anchorage location. The idea that we were supposed to speak glowingly and excitedly about the one book they were trying to push, even though we hadn't read it: I refused and ground in my heels. This feels like the opposite of that, a move towards a self-censoring conversation about a book I possibly feel passionate about (or else a half-hearted suggestion about a book I found mediocre). Anyone who's read more than one of my posts knows I love talking about and recommending books. I've recommended plenty of books even in my capacity as a library clerk, but only after I get a feel for where the patron is coming from and what they're interested in. I'm not going to put out a generalized, democratized, bland, middle-of-the-road and wholly unoffensive book on my chest for anyone to ask about. I won't have that hanging by my heart.
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no subject
on 2007-04-01 07:09 pm (UTC)But I can see how those things I dislike about libraries come from the demands of the user community. I've really come to think of the library as a drive-through-fast-food experience, while the bookstore is the sit-down deal. I'm sure that makes sense, because in one I'm spending money and the other I'm not, and I do use the library to "test drive" a lot of material.
At the same time, I feel like the bookstores, because they have a more obvious stake in patron usage, are really pushing the culture of reading. Our public library, for example, doesn't really seem to be big on displays, or book clubs, kids' story hour, or author readings- the local Borders does all of that.
Plus there's an entirely different angle to our library, because it's where Madison's homeless hang out all day. All the areas where library patrons would normally hang out are the living rooms and parking lots of Madison's destitute. This contributes even more to the in-and-out experience, because most patrons don't want to browse near, or expose their kids to the "guys who smell like pee."
Still, I love the library. I try to do my part by regularly owing a few dollars in fines, which I call my "library tax." True book lovers, I feel, exploit local stores, big chains, Amazon, libraries, and book sales equally. At least, that's the model I try to strive for.
no subject
on 2007-04-01 08:04 pm (UTC)In the *ideal* of a library, we're very philosophically invested in patron usage. I'm lucky enough to work for a particularly well-funded library, and we have the luxury of being able to live our ideals to a certain degree. We of course don't have the monetary incentive, but there are a lot of people who go into library work because they have the ethical incentive. But the sad truth is we don't live in an ideal world, and I think a lot of the time public libraries don't get what they need in order to really up the stakes.
But yeah, we do tons of programs in our libraries, which is cool. I'd hate to see a library move away from being thought of as a community-builder, which sounds like where your unfortunate system is at right now. Which is really too bad. Bah.
(You are one of the lj-friends I have the most "back and forth" with and I love that about you. I hope you don't just think I'm argumentative--okay, well, I *am*, but not in a bad way?)
no subject
on 2007-04-01 08:52 pm (UTC)It's funny, because when I said "obvious stake in patron usage," I was aware that in reality that's not the case, because the libraries rely on funds generated by petitioning the city or state based on how much usage they get. So of course there's a big stake in maintaining relevance, so I imagine that's why they make some of those choices to compete - you can generate more use in many ways with a "drive-through" experience than you can with a browsing experience, because the browsers go to the bookstores, becaue they're shelling out cash for something and want it to be good.
And yet because it's cash-driven, the bookstores have the marketing thing down, and the libraries often don't, or so it seems from the patron perspective. Maybe that's a spillover form the fact that it IS a governmental body?
I love that this conversation is taking place between two booklovers with joint bookstore experience, but one as a library clerk and the other as a patron!