I hope I'm not too late to save it.
I have been talking about rescuing our bookshelves, but this is the first time I've put my protest into print. I am going to beat around the bush for a while. As a graduate student at Brown, I came to admire the beauty of a number of libraries from the lovely John Hay to the exquisite John Carter Brown - the Rock hadn't even been thought of yet. Forsythia like gold framed these superb structures.
But nothing could dwarf the charm of the RISD reading room, which attracted Brown students even half a century ago.
A slim volume celebrating the lore of learning described the then-new RISD loft space thus: "To reach it, you enter the Benefit Street lobby and take the fine marble staircase. A feeling of l8th century elegance and serenity has been recreated. The golden brown of the carved teakwood panelling glows in the sunlight that streams in the high windows and lends a mellow charm to the mezzanine and alcoves with a friendly, inviting touch.
"No less attractive are the appointments. American walnut, slightly darker than the teak, has been used for the desk tables and chairs. Still darker brown is the floor of wide cork tiles set in a herringbone pattern. Warmth of coloring is added by the deep acquamarine leather of the upholstery.
"From the south windows there is a lovely vista past the ivy walls of the Athenaeum and the gay red brick row of dwellings. These views of old Providence increase the magic of the very beautiful library of the School of Design."
These words were written in the "duration" to review the still quite new rooms proudly completed just prior to the outbreak of war. The statement closes with an open invitation to the homefront to spend time as guests. "Perhaps you may feel some desire to visit. We would be very happy to have you do so."
I cite these phrases because RISD is relocating its library into the former Hospital Trust Bank building over the river into downtown.
That deco masterpiece is a splendid example of the capitalist celebration of wealth and power, and I join the rest of my colleagues in congratulations for the acquisition of space and splendor.
Metaphorically, however, the little library as it stands deserves recognition for its understated, and true, educational elegance of spirit and devotion specifically to reading as a pleasure for itself. True riches have to do with the soul. I love our library as it is, where it is, with its noble past and purpose, its humility and pride, its associations and stately dignity on a small scale.
On a practical level, I propose to donate my fairly large collection of personal books, ranging in subject matter from the history of cinema to ornithology and nature lore, from Jewish history to the evolution of the novel, to the personal essay in its most poetic and its wittiest form - maybe all these volumes could fill one of the alcoves and serve to amuse the afternoon of an undergraduate, from Brown or RISD to any other school in the vicinity, or any other browser.
Other teachers, staff, wanderers, students or neighbors might also contribute or bequeath their beloved pages to fill the shelves emptied when the move to downtown finally occurs, as it must and will.
RISD has always been a place where space is recycled, except for our reading room, which was designed for one aim - to settle an artist before a book, to open our studio world to our guests ... and to serve a cocktail at trustee-alumni liaison seasons of the academic-artistic year.
Do stop by - climb the stairs, look in and see, before it is too late, how delightful and quietly sumptuous our lair for lore is. Isn't there something that can be done to preserve it for a few more wondrous afternoons of the 21st century?
I am spending my one-semester sabbatical hunting here and there for creative moments in the October sunbeams, walking my dog among the East Side cobblestone streets.
I do climb those marble stairs to spend some time among the librarians who perform mystical tricks in finding just what I require for my rambling research.
It's more profitable than what any teller can produce at the bank bars - not that there's anything wrong with the banks. Hey, why not restore the Old Stone Bank building while we're at it?
Michael Fink M.A. '59 is a professor of English at RISD.
