Writing an article about the York University library and its shortcomings should be the easiest task in the world – it is after all, “the study space everyone loves to hate™.” Nevertheless, there is something niggling away in the back of my head whilst I list its many flaws, and really there are some humdingers on that list. It’s not enough just to complain about the heat of the place – obviously the library is a place of books and since books do not feel the heat (unless it’s Fahrenheit 451) why on earth should the library be air conditioned? It’s not as if there are actually going to be people wanting to read these books, is it? York University has clearly put a lot of work into making the library a homage to Apocalypse Now with the second floor a bomb site and the smell of asbestos in the morning gently wafting through the humid air.
The only escape from this is the North Room, of which I’ve been told Kurt Cobain disappeared into over 16 years ago, but is yet to resurface because the shelves are too difficult to operate (occasionally you may hear the faint sound of someone singing ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ in there, which some academics have noted points to his existence, but it may well just be the sound of books that no one will ever reach getting into grunge).
A sign near the Audio Visual room (a treat for the eyes and ears, not so much the nose) points to an “extra study area” – however, in what I can only imagine has been lifted from that classic text, the cartoons featuring Roadrunner, the sign has clearly been switched, for this area for studying, which is generally considered to be a quiet act, is situated right next to the Fresher’s cafe. Whilst studying we therefore get to hear how Matt got really wasted last night, and “vommed” all over the toilets in Langwith. Next time, I’d rather have the cartoon anvil please.
I think a past experience that summed up the shortcomings of the library for me was when, at a school reunion, we went to check out (surprise!) the library. Everyone laughed at how small it now looked, but whilst outwardly I chuckled, inwardly I could not help but contemplate York University’s library and think “sure, it’s bigger, but not by much!” before sniggering childishly like the immature person that I am.
However, the library cannot be blamed for all of its faults, one of its most exasperating qualities being the people who flock there every day. You know the type, the people who think that by slightly lowering their voice, they’re allowed to carry on speaking, even though lowering your voice does not, and I repeat, does NOT constitute as whispering – if I can hear you speak with your dull little conversations of “what book are you reading – oh I read that yesterday, it’s so boring – now I’m reading this book – it’s very boring” then you are NOT WHISPERING!
And yet, for all the anger I have vented about the blessed library, there is still something that bothers me, and it is the fact that I’ll even now end up going there to study. It’s the same with everyone else who complains about it – you’ll still see them there, probably typing annoyingly fast on their laptops or chewing on something a fraction too loudly. In a bizarre way, the library and its flaws makes me think of life outside the university bubble – where undoubtedly there will be things worth complaining about, yet some will never attempt to actually take action and change these irritating qualities in their work or lives as a whole, preferring the safety of muted complaining. Sadly I seemed to have fallen under this category, and will rant and rave quietly under my breath whilst the building work disrupts what precious little learning I have managed to accomplish.
Whilst wild and raucous protests aren’t the order of the day, perhaps the next time people find themselves complaining, whether it be about the library or any other numerous faults university life has (must…stop…complaining) then they should try to take small steps to improve that situation. It may not get you very far, but hey, at least then you can complain about that instead.