An "A" for Baker
In November the Alumni Magazine ran anarticle on the Class of 1953 and illustrated itwith a series of freshman faces. One of thosefreshmen, Leonard W. Johnson of Seattle,Wash., handed in a Freshman English themeon his first impressions of Dartmouth's BakerLibrary, and his professor was enough impressed to turn it over to the editor with adouble purpose: not only to let alumni readan "A" theme but more to give them a betterunderstanding of the fine educational assetDartmouth has in its library.
A GOOD PLACE FOR BOOKS
With fearful heart and faltering step 1 pushed through the heavy revolving door into the awesome silence of the Library. Libraries always induce in me, at first, a sensation somewhat similar to that which I experience upon entering a cathedral, but after I become familiar with the building and its books, I lose my trepidation, but not my reverence. For to me a library is one of the most exciting places in which to be. This statement should undoubtedly be greeted with scorn by a goodly percentage of the student population here and elsewhere, but that is because many people do not know what riches a library can hold or what its wonders are. I have, in the short span of my eighteen years, been in many such places and I have made a hobby of collecting impressions of libraries all over the country, from the two-room white Memorial on the village green in a little town in Maine to the huge, lion-guarded edifice on Forty-second Street and Fifth Avenue.
It is for these reasons, then, that the library at Dartmouth College was one of the first buildings I visited after my arrival at Hanover. I soon enough lost that faltering step that I have mentioned above; I believe it impossible to be hesitant or apprehensive in a place like Baker. Its atmosphere, from the beginning, seemed to me just right for a library—it had that bookish "library smell" and that calm silence that is part of the charm of every good library.
I tiptoed in. Yes, there were the same maiden ladies at the charging desk with whom I have become so familiar, quite to the point of recognizing them as a distinct type of American womanhood—femina bibliotheca, perhaps. I like to think that I know my way about libraries and I did not want to appear the freshman that I so obviously was, so I asked no one a question, but proceeded to look at the card catalogues, noting their arrangement and, with some surprise, their Colonial encasements. When even the card catalogues fit into the decorating scheme, it must be a good library! My next stop was the 1902 Room, where again I marveled at the period styling. It was here that I first found that comfort which seems to me to be one of the main attractions of Baker.
For a day or two I stayed out front, visiting the Reference and Periodical Rooms, wondering anew at each and finally stopping in complete amaze in the Treasure Room. Such beautiful books made me itch to touch and read them—one of the greatest joys of millionaires must be that they can own many books like those found in the Hough Room. I ventured, finally, up the stairs to the Tower Room. Its pictures in the college catalogue don't really do it justice. It creates, to my mind, exactly the right atmosphere for reading, an aura of quiet detachment from the outside world, of calm leisure, and of studious enjoyment. The Tower Room is not really a public library, of course—it is the private collection of a family of some three thousand and more, and truly a collection to be proud of.
I have not as yet mentioned what constitutes for me the chief glory of Baker. I am hopelessly fond of browsing in the stacks. Unfortunately, most libraries don't allow this luxury, and I have had to indulge in my favorite pastime in bookstores, under the ever-watchful eye of clerk and flunky. So it is that Dartmouth's system of free access to the stacks gives me my first real chance to engage in browsing up to the hilt. There exists for me, in this privilege, a virtually endless vista of "things to do on a rainy day." The stacks also afford places of study where real concentration is much more possible than in my room, with an accordionist at one end of the hall and a Caruso at the other. My favorite spot is one of the center cubicles at the rear of the seventh stack—an unassuming place with a window where studying is hardly a task.
I have gone exploring of an evening deep into what I deemed the bowels of Baker, only to have them turn out to be corridors to Sanborn House and Carpenter Hall. Following their dimly lit lengths resulted in the surprising and gratifying discovery of two new libraries, the Art and English Collections. I'm still wandering about on the Tower Room level and may run into something new yetl
In sum, Baker Library is to me the very nucleus of Dartmouth College. Its doors open to fabulous and well-nigh innumerable adventures in the realm of reading. It is indeed a paragon among libraries—a good place for books, and for people, too.
