Whither the Book?

Angie turned to me and said, “Anyone who thinks the book is dead should come here.” The here to which she was referring is Strand Books in New York. We were visiting the famed bookstore on a Saturday afternoon in late September. The store, which is very big, was so crowded it was often difficult to browse for books because people were moving in and out between shelves. The line at the checkout counter stretched 20-25 people, long enough that I could overhear conversations about twenty-something dating rituals as we waited to complete our purchases.

There are other famous bookstores that engender such passion as well. Located at the corner of Pender and Richards streets in Vancouver, MacLeod’s Books is one of those used book stores where one can lose yourself for hours. It is a small space; however, there are so many books stuffed into the store that it makes shopping a treasure hunt for unknown goods.

MacLeod's Books

Featured in Macleans two years before my visit, I spent almost two hours searching through stacks of books. There are so many books that line the aisles that it leaves little room to walk, and this did not include the books that are on the shelves and perched on top of bookcases. While I was browsing the multitude of books, contorting myself to read spines that were not in an orderly fashion, I thought to myself that I was searching for books I did not know I wanted.

As I was browsing I could overhear a number of conversations between customers and the staff. The staff was knowledgeable and friendly, but not in an artificial manner that one finds in chain stores. The man and woman who worked the store while I was there figured out queries with minimum information. Among the customers was a woman from Germany, who purchased a couple of books and said that she had read about the store online. 

Persons Day

As I sit in a coffee shop in Vancouver, I write to take note that today is Persons Day in Canada. On this date (18 October) in 1929 the Privy Council declared that the word “persons” in Section 24 of the British North American Act (1867) includes females. The Act was the constitution of the country at the time and the ruling set the stage for gender equality in Canada and the subsequent expansion of rights to indigenous and minority communities. The five women who petitioned the Privy Council for the ruling adorn the $50 bill in Canada today. 

Sports in Massillon and beyond

Even the unobservant traveler will notice that Massillon has an affinity for football, in fact football legend Paul Brown was born here. Football is inescapable as one walks around town. There is a mural on the side of a building along Lincoln Way that treats football as akin to Greek mythology; its greats as gods. At the bottom of the mural is a poem:

Mural on Lincoln Way, Massillon, OH

“In the Beginning when the great creator was drawing plans for this world of ours, he decided there should be something for everyone. He gave us mountains that reach to the sky, deep blue seas, green forests, dry deserts, gorgeous flowers, and gigantic trees. Then he decided there should be football, and he gave us Massillon. He created only one Massillon, he knew that would be enough.”

Virtually every business in town has a sign in the window exhorting the local high school football team to do well. The woman working the breakfast this morning in my hotel wore a t-shirt that read: “One team, one town, one goal.” While at first glance this source of civic pride is admirable. Yet I find some of the aspects of this as troubling. High school football players adorn the flags along the main street of town (Lincoln Way) posed in their uniforms, like football players outside a NFL stadium. Pictures of the town’s cheerleaders are found in the windows of many businesses in Massillon, exhorting the team to greatest. The implicit message is: “This is as good as it gets.” High school is the apex of one’s life and our heroes are the 15-18 year olds who represent our town each weekend.

My trip to Massillon coincided with a number of articles and book releases that caught my eye. The emphasis on sports, particularly football is the subject of Amanda Ripley’s article in The Atlantic. The author examines the amount of money that is spent on high school athletics in the United States, much of it hidden and compares it with the money spent on scholastic programs. Rarely do people calculate coaches’ salaries, bus rides, and equipment refurbishment. There are stunning figures to make high school sports happen and it is not recouped through ticket sales. It probably goes without saying that the most expensive sport is football; however, in the Pacific Northwest one school was spending $328 per student for math instruction while at the same time spending $1348 per cheerleader. While most arguments that favor sports in high school point to keeping marginal students in school, this segment of the student population is small. Yet the emphasis on sports keeps resources from making classes interesting and innovative with fully qualified teachers.

It is difficult to think about America, or its popular culture, without its emphasis on sports. No doubt I am one who enjoys the history and lore of sports. One of my favorite films of the 1980s is Hoosiers, a semi-fictional story based upon the real team of Milan, which won the 1954 Indiana High School Basketball Championship. The swelling music and compelling visuals celebrate a romantic notion of small-town America. The love of high school sports is woven into the fabric of America. My high school, duPont Manual was one of the principals for the legendary Male-Manual rivalry, touted as the nation’s oldest high school rivalry and I know plenty of people who either attend or intend to attend the game each year. I even co-authored a history of the rivalry for my high school newspaper.

In the closing sequence of Hoosiers, a photograph of the winning team adorns the wall of the high school gymnasium. As Ripley points out, in 1961 sociologist James Coleman wrote that where one interested a high school you are confronted with trophy cases that celebrate athletic, not scholastic, achievements. Nowhere in Massillon are there pictures of students who so well in things other than football and cheerleading. Nevertheless, education is supposed to be a school’s raison d’etre.

We little realize how much high school sports dictate high school academics. I have long known that a later starting time could greatly improve students’ lives and learning. In fact, research demonstrates that a later starting time results in improved student performance; however, most schools have early morning starts to facilitate afternoon daylight sports practices.

Two other articles in The Atlantic tangentially deal with similar themes. One piece by Karl Taro Greenfeld smartly and amusingly examines how much homework students do each night. Greenfeld spent a week doing the same homework assignments as his daughter and found that the assignments tended to be unrealistic and inane. Read in context with Ripley’s piece, one comes to the conclusion that the problems of American education are not simply about one issue. Another article in the same issue examines the amount of money taxpayers give to one of the richest and most profitable organizations in the United States – the NFL. Yet another indication of the power and importance of sports in the United States. 

Nostalgia in Massillon

Massillon, Ohio, alternatively known as Tiger Town and City of Champions, is one of those towns that has fallen on hard times, but the history, architecture and charms continues to shine. Although not born here, silent film star Lillian Gish spent a great deal of her childhood in the city and is claimed by the city. I fear that my reason for coming to Massillon is at an end. (Just as I was getting comfortable spelling the name of the city.)

One of the nice things about walking through town is examining the old buildings and connecting it with local history. The remnants of a local confectionery are still visible. The Sugar Bowl, which was established in 1902 and was a tradition in the city, is no more. The entrance reveals a vacant storefront; however, this painted wall, which faces Diamond Court, is a reminder of a business that lasted nearly a century in Massillon. It was a place where local people gather after games and dances, for dates, and when being social with one another. An even older business is the Liebermann Bakery, opened in 1882, and still making delicious treats and breads today. Although I tried to avoid such delights as a rule, I stopped in for a Boston cream doughnut and a cup of coffee while in town. It was nice to stand in a small shop where you could see the people working, making bread and cakes, and local people were there for a weekend ritual. It is difficult to say why the tactile pleasure of warm baked goods and hot coffee, the experience of walking into a bakery and selecting from a multitude of choices, smelling fresh bread and speaking to those responsible for these delights is so satisfying. I walked by later in the day and the smells of baked good wafted onto the street, which only served to enhance my feelings for Liebermann. All I know is that this is not an experience one has at a megastores.

Of course many more buildings stand without the original tenants. Many buildings in the center of Massillon remain empty or under-utilized. One of the first buildings that stood out for me was the Bloomfield building on South Erie. It was the home of Bloomfield’s Furniture and its showroom was located in the building during the 1930s. During the post-World War II period it had moved to Lincoln Way (old US 30).

Outside Salem, Ohio

It is not easy to explain what compels me to stop while driving along back road. I am not always sure what I am seeing, but in this case the building just looked fascinating. Along the side of the road, near Salem, Ohio, the front plate of this brick building caught my eye. The inscription reads: “1908 / Dist No 4 / Green TP.” My best guess is that it is a former school house, but it has been difficult to track down any information so far.  

NYPL

For some of us of a certain predilection, the most important site in New York is the New York Public Library. Restaurants, theaters, shops, monuments and stadiums all beckon, but do not represent the repertoire of knowledge and culture collected within the walls of the exquisite building at 42nd and Fifth Avenue. Even if it is just a quick pass through the gift shop, a trip to the library is always rewarding.

The ceiling of the reading room surreptitiously
taken with my iPad

A few hours reading books in the main reading room, where no tourists are allowed to take photographs, is ennobling. Unlike many other libraries these days, the time-honored traditional of quiet reflection is largely observed. Often the only noises, which are magnified because of unusual silence is the frequent sound of the wooden chairs legs dragged across the tile floor and the infrequent coughs of patrons. It is a quiet oasis in the midst of a great bustling city. 

The best quality of a research library is that there are books and material that is available very few places, or nowhere else in the world. In fact, the New York Public Library system is a treasure trove of unique items. It is one of the things that makes the library so special and why so many fight to keep much of the collection on-site to continue to make it a working research library.

While the collection makes the library particularly useful, the building inspires us to greatness. At the entrance to the main reading rooms is a quote from John Milton that reminds us of the immortality of literature, words and books: “A good Booke is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, imbalm’d and treasur’d up on purpose to a life beyond life.” There are also corners of the library that reminds of us days passed; my favorite is the bank of public telephones in the basement that are, today, rarely used. 

Public telephones at the NYPL

I was reading a fairly obscure book by a British author (only 52 libraries around the world reported having a copy) from the early post-World War II era. I had expected to find the book distasteful and vehemently disagree with the ideas presented; however, I was struck by the thoughtful exploration of the issue in question. While I disagree with the overall premise, it did strike me as an interesting understanding of issues from a bygone day. The author had written five other books, which made me wonder if the library held copies. More broadly, what ideas, thoughts, stories, narratives and collections must be contained in the volumes within the stacks of the library? These are the types of books that are not on any type of electronic device and likely never will be. When was the last time someone read the book I read on that beautiful fall afternoon? Are there books that have not been read in decades that would be discovered by a patron later today? Next week? Or next year?  

Vintage South Loop Chicago

A number of item caught my eyes on a recent trip to Chicago and the following are three that are interesting but I do not have anything particular to write about.   

Blue Star Auto Parts sign – 2001 South State Street 

Universal Pluming – 1815 South State Street 

Yellow Cab sign painted on the side of a building as seen from South Wabash 

between Cermak Road and East 21st Street