The fire that damaged or destroyed more than one million books at the Central Library of Los Angeles on April 29th, 1986, is central to this expansive discussion of the role of libraries throughout history. The story starts off slowly with the author’s personal love of libraries and books, but the second half comes alive with colourful characters, unsolved mysteries, and perceptive insights into the changing role of libraries around the world.
Perhaps the most controversial character was the young itinerant Harry Peak, a flamboyant gay, veteran liar who was accused of staring the fire, boasted about it to friends, then denied any involvement and changed his alibis so many times that arson investigators were never able to charge him, although most believed he had set the fire. But the philandering Charles Lummis, appointed as director of the L.A. libraries could challenge him for the role of most eccentric man associated with the library, as could the Reverend Clark Smith, the cigar-chomping, foul-mouthed evangelical pastor of a nondenominational nearby, now defunct, megachurch.
This book is arranged in a somewhat confusing non-chronological order, with chapters skipping from one decade to another, seemingly at random. There are some unhelpful fillers and some hyperbole such as the author’s overly sentimental angst about burning a useless book. But there is also an abundance of interesting information such as the longstanding erroneous assumptions that have plagued arson investigations over many decades, and have led to wrongful convictions and even wrongful executions for murder by arson. And new to me was the legality of selling “air rights”- the seven-story library, for several million dollars, sold the rights to the air above it to developers of nearby properties who could then build skyscrapers much taller than they would otherwise be allowed.
The Little Free Libraries Association has set up 60,000 free libraries around the world, not counting the unregistered ones such as one my granddaughter has set up on her front lawn.
There are some deep insights, mostly of a nihilistic nature such as this: “The idea of being forgotten is terrifying. I fear not just that I, personally, will be forgotten, but that we all are doomed to be forgotten- that the sum of life is ultimately nothing; that we experience joy and disappointment and aches and delights and loss, make our little mark on the world, and then we vanish, and the mark is erased, and it is as if we never existed.” Perhaps true, but a very egotistical poor excuse to write a book.
Modern librarians, who are generally portrayed as dedicated altruistic public servants, will appreciate this book, but it will not interest many others.
The Passionate Reader 