Libraries & Time

Walking the stacks of an academic library, beset by a-temporal images. “A-temporal” because of the slide show going on inside me of academic life across centuries. These are not Michael Clarage’s memories, because he was not around back then. Is “memory” even the right word? I do not get these vivid slide shows when visiting rock quarries or battleships. But I do have access to this sort of temporal interlacing in academic libraries, and it is very centering for me. Which is surprising since you might think temporal fragmentation would be disorienting. Maybe it is more like temporal re-integration for me.

I made a day trip to Mt Holyoke college, because that is the only library within 200 miles that has the book I want to read: Philosophy of Mysticism by De Prel, published in 1889. I read a quote from this book that mentioned how the biology of our nervous system determines our perception of time, so I wanted to read the whole chapter. Du Prel was thinking in a time before materialism had re-written all knowledge. He presents many cases, and argues clearly for a time-sense that transcends biology. We have a form of consciousness that is tied to cellular metabolism. This consciousness is limited by the speed of nerves. We also have forms of consciousness that are not tied to biology. The chapter was very satisfying. He also has that delightful skill of writing paragraph long sentences that are very comprehensible. His thoughts are long, and he has the ability to convey them. It is also a treat when an author forces me to consult the dictionary:

Disempogue - the flow or come forth from or as if from a channel

Desiderate - to entertain or express a wish to have or attain

As I type this, my browser is underlining these words in red because it does not even know those words!

Looking at the library card in the front cover, my desiderated book has been checked out 7 times since 1953. I might be the last person to ever read this particular copy of the book. Walking through academic stacks also fills me with disquieting emotions and images, of a time when all the libraries of all these books will be gone.

Which of us bothers to read any of the thousands ( millions? ) of texts from previous civilizations? In this regard the future will be the same as the present, and the same as the past. I feel sad that all the books in this building will be burned or buried in the not-too-distant future. But it also feels inevitable, since each civilization must re-create and re-discover everything in its own way, otherwise why bother coming? If the Greeks figured everything out, then what were we supposed to do?