The Library of Seattle

Although the ancient Library of Alexandria is the most famous library in history and the United States Library of Congress in Washington D.C. is the largest library in the modern world, for me personally the Seattle Public Library system is also worthy of legendary status. It has served me well in several stages of my life, including the present stage, during which I have scant resources to be able to buy books but my appetite for reading is as ravenous as ever. I am profoundly grateful that my local branch is within walking distance; I usually go there at least a few times a month, and sometimes as often as once a week in my insatiable quest for reading material.

This infatuation began when I was a child. Once I learned to read, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t crave books. I would receive them sometimes as gifts on birthdays and at Christmas, but my main source was the local public library, where my parents would take me and my siblings with fair frequency so we could browse the shelves and check out books to bring home. Back then the system was not digitized, of course; to find specific books we would have to go through large cabinets containing the library’s catalogs; each book had its own typed index card entry. Paper sleeves were glued into the books; these contained a card that the librarian would stamp with the date of return. As a child my tastes were eclectic, but I especially enjoyed reading about ancient animals such as dinosaurs and modern animals such as tigers. My preferences continually evolved, though, and later, after I discovered my destiny as a writer during my one abortive year of college at the University of Santa Clara, after returning home I was thrilled to find a shelf at my local branch containing several volumes of Nebula Awards anthologies issued by the Science Fiction Writers of America (now known as the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association).

Recently I have been exploring Seattle and its environs in an attempt to rediscover its multifarious wonders. This weekend I had planned to wander through an outdoor sculpture park near the waterfront; however, the forecast called for wind, rain, and lightning storms, so I instead searched for an indoor activity. And then it struck me: I was in need of some new books to read; instead of going to the local branch, why not head downtown to the Central Library and browse its vast collection? I hadn’t been there for a long time, and the building itself, with its ornate architecture, is like an ostentatious palace, worthy of exploration even if I didn’t find any books to check out.

The light rail system was undergoing repair, so I had to take a long, tedious bus ride and then hike up some steep hills to the library entrance. No matter. It’s all part of the experience. Realizing that I could not possibly browse more than a tiny portion of the library’s immense collection, I decided to focus on four areas: the Friends of the Library bookshop, the Peak Picks display of newly arrived books, the biography section, and the travel section.

Within the jewel-like multi-windowed edifice there are ten levels connected by elevators, escalators, stairs, and ramps. Just inside is the entrance to a spacious auditorium where on numerous occasions (before COVID) I had attended author readings. The Peak Picks section was near the entrance too, but I quickly realized that it was leaner than the one at my local library, probably because of the many more visitors the central branch received. I tried to orient myself by studying the signage, but I eventually had to (several times) ask librarians for assistance.

Before commencing my exploration I thought I would use the public facilities after my long sojourn on the bus; however, the library had just opened and the ground floor men’s room was crowded with homeless people. This didn’t upset me; I have been homeless myself, and I’m glad that the library permits those in need to use the restrooms. Later I found an emptier men’s room upstairs.

A long escalator took me to the Friends of the Library bookstore. It is set off to the side in a corner of the Fifth Avenue lobby. In the past, the Friends of the Library would hold enormous warehouse-sized book sales of all the excess volumes that the library didn’t need. For a time these were held near Magnuson Park in the neighborhood of Sand Point just down the hill from our apartment in Wedgwood. My youngest son and I would grab backpacks and hike down the steep incline, spend hours browsing for used books and DVDs, and then hike back up the hill as we staggered under the weight of our purchases. Later the sales were held at an enormous auditorium at the Seattle Center. In recent years, though, these sales have ceased. I asked an attendant at the bookshop about this, and she told me that the library no longer gave the Friends its excess books; she wasn’t sure what was done with them.

This visit renewed my joy of browsing. When I asked a librarian where the biography and travel books were, he told me but then asked for more specifics of what I needed. I said I was looking forward to being overwhelmed. “Well,” he said, “then you’ve come to the right place.” He wasn’t wrong. My local branch has a shelf or two of travel books, but at the central branch were aisles and aisles of shelves filled top to bottom with travel memoirs and guidebooks to any place on Earth you can imagine. For a time I wandered, amazed, but in fact there was no way I’d be able to browse every title even in the travel section alone, so I aimed for regions and countries I was especially interested in. I did the same in the vast biography section, aiming for books on specific people I was especially interested in reading about.

After I’d located a few books I thought I’d check out, I took the elevator to the tenth floor reading room. The entire exterior of the library is a multifaceted window that somewhat reminded me, as I looked out from the inside on the downtown buildings and the streets far below, of how things must appear to a fly with its compound eyes.

I hope that you’re a bibliophile like I am; I can’t imagine life without books. But even if you’re not in need of reading material, a visit to the Seattle Public Library Central Branch is a marvelous thrill in itself because of its unique architecture and elaborate, maze-like interior. Then again, books are the mystic portals to the knowledge and imagination of humankind. Be sure to pick up a few while you are there.

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