To Browse Serendipitously: The Prelinger Library
Katherine Sharpe
The other day I heard someone remark that the internet is 15 years old. That seems like both a very long time and not nearly long enough for an invention that's redefined how most of us spend our workdays, find information, shop and keep in touch with family and friends.
It seems almost strange that I do still remember a time when facts had to be sought out from books. Long weekend mornings at the library were formative for me, and though I love the internet (and believe that the transition from library hound to internet hound was a very natural one), it does feel odd that hunkering down in the stacks, reaching high for a book on the top shelf, or going looking for one title only to find something different and better are increasingly things of the past.
My library nostalgia kicked into full gear when I found out about the Prelinger Library, a five-year-old private library in San Francisco, California, which houses 40,000 books, maps, magazines and other pieces of ephemera. The Prelinger is run by is two founders, Rick Prelinger and Megan Shaw Prelinger.
Their library is an experiment of sorts. It uses a novel organization system which groups books by association, affording patrons---in the librarians' words---"the freedom to browse serendipitously." It is as much a place to let your mind wander and discover interests you didn't know you had, as it is a place to go looking for specific information.
It's not that there's no such thing as serendipitous browsing on the net, of course, but looking at pictures of the Prelinger does whet my appetite for something about physical libraries that I miss: the sense of space, of literally walking among things and letting my eyes alight on this and that. If browsing the internet is like being a mole in a series of ever-branching tunnels, then walking into an analog library might resemble the experience of a soaring eagle, taking in all it surveys.
Analog libraries have a sensuality to them, too. I once had a friend who liked to open musty books and smell the paper, smiling a beatific smile. One doesn't need to take it that far, but yellowed maps and the texture of old magazines do possess a certain je ne sais quoi for many.
I think I'd like to set aside a few hours to lose myself in the Prelinger Library next time I am in San Fransicso. As if the idea of an independent library weren't enough to attract my ReadyMaker sensibilities, the subject matter of the library, with a special emphasis on housing, city planning, architecture, building, design and how-to materials from the past century and a half, would be more than enough on its own to seal the deal.
The Prelinger Library is located at 301 8th Street at Folsom, Room 215, in San Francisco CA. Check the website for open hours.
Meat Merchandising by Telsar Logistics, from Flickr
Rick Prelinger and Megan Shaw photo by Meg Pickard, from Flickr
Free Speech photo by the_photographer, from Flickr
It seems almost strange that I do still remember a time when facts had to be sought out from books. Long weekend mornings at the library were formative for me, and though I love the internet (and believe that the transition from library hound to internet hound was a very natural one), it does feel odd that hunkering down in the stacks, reaching high for a book on the top shelf, or going looking for one title only to find something different and better are increasingly things of the past.
My library nostalgia kicked into full gear when I found out about the Prelinger Library, a five-year-old private library in San Francisco, California, which houses 40,000 books, maps, magazines and other pieces of ephemera. The Prelinger is run by is two founders, Rick Prelinger and Megan Shaw Prelinger.
Their library is an experiment of sorts. It uses a novel organization system which groups books by association, affording patrons---in the librarians' words---"the freedom to browse serendipitously." It is as much a place to let your mind wander and discover interests you didn't know you had, as it is a place to go looking for specific information.
It's not that there's no such thing as serendipitous browsing on the net, of course, but looking at pictures of the Prelinger does whet my appetite for something about physical libraries that I miss: the sense of space, of literally walking among things and letting my eyes alight on this and that. If browsing the internet is like being a mole in a series of ever-branching tunnels, then walking into an analog library might resemble the experience of a soaring eagle, taking in all it surveys.
Analog libraries have a sensuality to them, too. I once had a friend who liked to open musty books and smell the paper, smiling a beatific smile. One doesn't need to take it that far, but yellowed maps and the texture of old magazines do possess a certain je ne sais quoi for many.
I think I'd like to set aside a few hours to lose myself in the Prelinger Library next time I am in San Fransicso. As if the idea of an independent library weren't enough to attract my ReadyMaker sensibilities, the subject matter of the library, with a special emphasis on housing, city planning, architecture, building, design and how-to materials from the past century and a half, would be more than enough on its own to seal the deal.
The Prelinger Library is located at 301 8th Street at Folsom, Room 215, in San Francisco CA. Check the website for open hours.
Meat Merchandising by Telsar Logistics, from Flickr
Rick Prelinger and Megan Shaw photo by Meg Pickard, from Flickr
Free Speech photo by the_photographer, from Flickr
