Saturday, August 15, 2009

In Defence of the Library

Lately I've been struggling with my health. After a holiday in Sweden in which I was mysteriously fine, I have been struck down yet again with some kind of flu. The attack occurred just minutes after I had my first contact with the Piccadilly line in several months. Coincidence, or allergy to London? You decide.

Anyway, this bout of flu has got me so exhausted that I have been couch-bound. Unfortunately this caused me to have to report to a guy I've been dating today that I have been "making garlic soup and joining the library", quite possibly the most unattractive sentence that I could have concocted and which made me cringe as it came out of my mouth. He probably thinks I'm making it up in a passive-agressive rejection tactic. (To his credit, he didn't immediately hang up and block my number.) Him being the sporty type, I didn't dare go into further details - not that he asked - but secretly, joining the library has actually cheered me up immensely. Let me explain.

Today I ran out of books and DVDs and, prompted by my flatmate, reluctantly joined the local library. The building is not the most architecturally fascinating in the world - a dark, standard council block which despite bright banners looks condemned for demolition (which it may very well be). I imagined it would be a dusty, dismal place for those sheltering from the demands of normal society... which ok it sort of was, but I also had to apply the sickeningly appropriate maxim "don't judge a book by it's cover".

Someone who runs the Hackney libraries actually has pretty good taste. In the DVD selection I was surprised to see they even have the director's cut of Evil Dead, The Office Christmas Specials and some obscure Japanese mafia movies, although the guy in the queue behind me was disappointed to discover they were copy protected. ("Bastards at the BFI," he whispered conspiratorially). The library *is* a refuge for some strange people who hide away worryingly in the crime section or shuffle about talking to themselves behind the large print aisle, but they are relatively harmless (and probably being filmed by at least 10 CCTV cameras at any given time.)

Delighted at finding this local gem, I enthusiastically stocked up on bleak Swedish mystery novels and strange Japanese fantasies before heading to Sainsburys to procure enough garlic and broccoli to neutralise this flu... and hopefully not the potential date.