Libraries.

 

Richard Ovenden.

Nazi book-burning May 10th 1933.

The riveting book which I am currently reading, by Richard Ovenden, Director of the Bodleian, Oxford University, begins its Introduction with a description of the burning of books in Nazi Berlin on May 10th 1933. The site of the bonfire, in Unter den Linden, was well chosen; opposite the university, adjacent to St Hedwig’s Cathedral, the Berlin State Opera House, the Royal Palace and Karl Friedrich Schinkel’s war memorial. Simultaneously, book burning was carried out with fervour in ninety other locations in Germany that night. The book burnings, carried out by Hitler Youth in uniform, as a publicity stunt to curry favour with the Nazi Government, centred on thousands of books by Jews and other ‘un-German’ writers like gays and Communists. These anarchic scenes were a clear warning sign of the coming attack on knowledge to be unleashed by the Nazis.

Gathering books for fuel, May 1933.

Ovenden’s point is that Knowledge is still under attack; indeed, is always under attack. The repositories of knowledge have always been libraries and archives and today, funding for these storehouses is constantly reduced while other democratic institutions like the rule of law and open society are similarly, in tandem, under attack. Ovenden’s statement, “Libraries are crucial for the healthy functioning of society” seems self-evident to someone of my generation and background; working class families could afford few books but entry to the municipal library and its treasures was free. I strongly remember the joy of visiting the local library when I was young and also the reverence shown by my mother for books. I also strongly recall my total shock when I saw a fellow pupil in an R.E. lesson, ripping pages from her Bible to encase each finger in a paper-tasselled page to enable her to pretend to play an imaginary piano under the desk. I never had any reverence for the Bible, as such; it was the willful tearing out of pages from a book that shocked me so! My own books now are among a very small group of favourite, cherished possessions, frequently re-visited, re-read; re-enjoyed. Ovenden's book proceeds to demonstrate his anger at both deliberate and accidental failures across the globe to ensure the health and safety of libraries to protect the knowledge entrusted to them.

Wu Guichan

Given that I am currently reading Ovenden’s riveting Burning The Books, I was thrilled this week to read an article in the current issue of Time, describing a man’s life in Nancheng, Dongguan. Wu Guichan was a migrant worker in a small shoe factory earning a modest amount of around 5000 yuan each month. After his arrival in 2003 looking for work, he bought a few cheap books before finding the town’s small library in 2008 where everything was free. He was delighted with the place and thrilled to be able to become a member for the free use of everything. Over the past 20 years, the GDP and consequent size and importance of Dongguan have risen sharply and during this period of increasing prosperity, town authorities have tried to improve the cultural lives of its citizens. In 2002 a huge municipal library was built and two years later it began building an extensive library network; a bus library started to cover a wide area so that factory workers could borrow books freely and without travel. In 2005 Dongguan began offering a 24 hour library service, the first in China and organising free lectures and classes to help migrant workers learn professional skills like lathing and milling. These latter are now available online. In 2012 the American Library Association bestowed on Dongguan Library, its International Innovation Award, a first for a non-American group.

Wu Guichan's heartfelt tribute to 
Dongguan Library.

Wu remained a loyal library-user; he had ended his education at primary school and when he started using Dongguan library, was barely literate. By the time he left in 2020 he was reading classics and devouring around six books each month. In January 2020, unusually, Wu returned to his home village for the Spring Festival and had to remain there because of Covid until June, when he returned to Dongguan, probably, he realised, for the final time as jobs for migrant workers there were very few. He went to the library to return his 12 year old library card and was asked to write in the comments book. He wrote: “Books enlighten people. Due to the Covid 19 pandemic, a lot of factories have closed, migrant workers cannot find jobs and we all choose to go back to our home-towns. Thinking about all my years in Dongguan, the best place for me has always been the library. As much as I want to stay, I cannot but I will never forget you, Dongguan Library.” One of the librarians posted Wu’s comments online and his words quickly went round the Internet causing a leap in the membership of the Dongguan Library. Wu returned home in October and to his delight, discovered the desire of his grand-daughters to read, though no books were available. He had previously been awarded a 6000 yuan book token and he cashed this in and mail-ordered the books they needed. His stated desire now is to build a small library for his home-town.

Our man in his natural habitat

I wrote the above yesterday [12/02/21] after which I discovered that the wonderful Time magazine had not found the entire Wu Story!! Apparently, his online message was quickly seen by Zhao Liping, Director of the Job Services Centre in the Human Resources Bureau of Dongguan who messaged the library to say, " We need to keep such a migrant worker with such a deep love of our city."  And he was able to find a gardening job in a local community for Wu who accepted, delighted to stay in the city with his beloved Dongguan Library. He has now decided to improve his writing which is slow and laboured. Always the autodidact! What an impressive and lovely man.

I am sure this story will have made Richard Ovenden’s heart sing, as it did mine. It is extraordinary  how we all take for granted these apparently mundane institutions, using them and appreciating them in a low-key way but never truly noticing their value. I read with dismay that almost 800 municipal libraries in Britain have closed since 2010, almost a fifth of the total; this is against the backdrop of a 29.6% reduction in council funding for libraries. Councils are cash-strapped because of central Government budget reductions which, in turn, are hard-pressed. But Boris needs to notice this dire situation and appreciate the urgent necessity of libraries. He probably doesn't need or use them, not since the occasional Eton visit long ago, but the country needs its storehouses of knowledge with its functions to protect, preserve and transmit. And these must be independent from the currently huge commercial, digital realm.

Rural bus library, Britain..
Similar to that in earlier years in Dongguan.

Dongguan Library now.