TUMBLEWEED KLAXON 

“It’s important for people to tell you what side they are on and why, and whether they might be biased. A declaration of members’ interests, of a sort. So, I am going to be talking to you about reading. I’m going to tell you that libraries are important.”

In 2013, the Guardian published an article written by Neil Gaiman, one of the finest fiction writers of the English language of this generation. The article was about libraries, and librarians, and why saving these institutions and the people running these institutions was of utmost importance. The above-mentioned paragraph was Neil’s opening salvo; an impassioned plea to protect libraries, to preserve as well as promote the rapidly diminishing athenaeums around the world; and an imploration to read and dream.

It is fairly easy to understand why saving and protecting libraries is not on the top of many people’s to-do list. We live in a world where racism and bigotry are still alive and kicking, a world where World War 3 is such a real possibility that incessant memes are being circulated about it. Australia is burning, and the ice-caps are melting, and the deep distress and miasma which is being constantly emanated from all quarters of the world has doused and depressed the already down and out millennials. Those who want to do something about all of this are still in school and thus, a subject of ridicule. Amidst all this clamour and razzmatazz, the importance of bookstores and libraries has simmered and then fell into a stupor that Dracula would have been proud of.

Reading is important. No matter who you are, your gender, your political alliance, your culture, whether you are allergic to dogs, or not. Reading is important. “We have an obligation to imagine…” wrote Neil Gaiman, in the much-publicised Guardian article. We do have an obligation to imagine, and to dream, and to dream dangerously and outrageously, and to create what has not been created. And for that, we need to dream, and for that, we need to read. And it is not for anyone to tell you what to read. You can read Asimov and Fukuyama, and Junji Ito and Neil Gaiman; it can be a Calvin and Hobbes comic strip in your daily newspaper. Reading is a catalyst for all things wonderful; it is a gateway to wonders old and new, to Gormenghast and to the Shire, to Elizabethan England and to the surreptitiously weird world of Apple. You meet people and you form perspectives, and ideals that ultimately go on to define who you are as a person. You find out that you like Harry Potter, and that you loath Draco Malfoy, and you figure out what is right and what is wrong, and understand how the world works.

The reason why libraries are important, and why their preservation and promotion should be prioritised at a higher level, and why this 1000-word essay has been written just to wax lyrical about why libraries and librarians are needed now, more than ever, is not easy to put into words. Libraries are not just about books; it is the atmosphere, a safe space where there is no risk of being ridiculed, of being questioned, a place where you can be alone, but not truly. Libraries have inane, even bordering on magical, abilities, to become a place of comfort and peace; it is not just about books and reading, it is about finding a place of sanctity. Libraries are for those who are not able to afford a new book, or a Kindle. Knowledge is not restricted, but available to all those who want it; and libraries are true symbols of that. They are also useful in boosting local economies; providing job opportunities, a place to work and ruminate. The American Library Association stated that 73% of public libraries assist their patrons with job applications and interviewing skills. And librarians are, for all intents and purposes, the first coming of Google; the gatekeepers and the guardians of the magical world of Library.

Statistics released by the Chartered Institute of Public Finance and Accountancy (CIPFA) for the year 2015-16 highlighted a worrying trend. Covering England, Scotland and Wales, CIPFA reported that funding for local libraries took a major hit, with number of libraries falling down by 1.7% for the year, total visits dropping by 5.5%, and total expenditure dropping by £25 million. CIPFA also released data for the period of 2011-12 to 2015-16; a period where total expenditure has dropped by 14% and total visits has been reduced by 16.2%.

Tumbleweed Klaxon is not a haphazard title; it is a state of being. The desertification of libraries has led to the arrival of the tumbleweeds; a symbol of loneliness and eerie disquiet. The quietness is, ironically, the sound of the klaxon; a warning that this could very well be the permanent state of things.

The term “Pyrrhic Victory” was named thus because of the Greek general Pyrrhus. It came to be when Pyrrhus joked that his victories against Rome had cost him so much that he could not afford to wage another war with them. Pyrrhus Victory is one where the triumph costs so much that it is tantamount to defeat. We have Google, and we have Kindle, and we have technology, but at what cost?

Just a few days ago, on Twitter, the Petersfield Bookshop posted a tweet that trended; “Not a single book sold today… First time ever…”. The tweet found its way to none other than Neil Gaiman, who did what he could. A couple of days later, another tweet came out: “ Completely overwhelmed… Loads of online book orders… Thank you..”. The Petersfield Bookshop is one amongst many. Support is needed.

Augustus, the renowned Roman military leader and statesman, as he was dying, is supposed to have said, “If I have played my part well, then give me applause.”

We have an obligation.