Jefferson Market Library

I am by no means an expert when it comes to children’s literature. I save that for the wonderful children’s librarians of The New York Public Library. In a readers advisory bind I can recommend some of the current series that the kids are reading and those classic children’s books that I’m particularly fond of now: Where the Wild Things Are, the Mo Willems Pigeon books, anything by David Wiesner, and Goodnight Moon.

Published in 1947, Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Moon has certainly had a lasting appeal. Maybe it’s in the simple poetry of the book. Maybe it’s in the story itself: the prolonging of the act of saying goodnight, something that everyone can relate to. Maybe it’s because the story is easily adaptable into a ritual that parent and child can continue after reading the book. Maybe it is because the main character is a rabbit.

I don’t have any real recollections of ever reading Goodnight Moon as a child. When I think of that children’s classic the first thing that comes to mind is the episode of The Simpsons where Christopher Walken reads the book to a group of terrified children at a book fair. “Please, children, scootch closer. Don't make me tell you again about the scootching.”

Another thing that comes to mind is the interesting history behind a charming little house near the Jefferson Market Library. This 18th century farmhouse was the residence and writing studio of Margaret Wise Brown in the 1940s. At the time the house was located at 71st Street and York Avenue. It was there that Brown wrote many of her classics, including Goodnight Moon. Illustrator Garth Williams even depicted the house in Brown’s Little Golden Book, Mister Dog. The house later faced demolition and on March 5, 1967 it was moved from the Upper East Side to its present location at 121 Charles Street. Complete with a beautiful yard and a cobblestone driveway, it is a truly magical and unique literary landmark unlike any other residence in New York City. Take a look next time you’re in the area, then stop by Jefferson Market and read Goodnight Moon. Personally, I can never read that story again without hearing Christopher Walken’s voice in my head: “Goodnight room. Goodnight Moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon."

I recently received an interesting telephone reference question. A gentleman was calling from a historical society in upstate New York. He was doing research on the bells cast by the Meneely Bell Foundry in the early to mid 19th century. Meneely had cast tens of thousands of bells and he wanted to know if the bell in Jefferson Market Library’s clock tower was one of them. A quick search online found many different versions of the clock tower’s history. Some sources claim that the bell currently in the tower was the one from the original previous structure, a fire watch tower. Further investigation found this not to be the case, as the bell currently hanging in the tower is the third one at the Jefferson Market location. Of course, the best way to confirm the bell’s maker is to get a first hand look, so I made the claustrophobic climb to the top of the tower, timing my journey so as not to be next to the bell when it struck on the hour. Stamped on the 12,000 pound bell was the name I was looking for: Jones & Company, Troy, NY 1863.

So our bell was not from Meneely, but what about the previous bells? Click through to read on...

I went to The Museum of Modern Art recently to check out some of the new photography exhibitions. In addition to the stark repetition the Bechers’ work and some of my favorites from Diane Arbus there was a wonderful exhibition of vernacular photography. The snapshots by anonymous photographers all depict the shadow of the photographer. The photos are hung salon style with a variety of different frames, bringing to mind a Victorian parlor or a page taken from a vintage photo album. Seeing all these photographs together also made me think of one of the downsides of the advent of digital photography: mistakes like these are now easily and instantly deleted.

Keep your back to the sun. This is one of the basic rules of photography for obvious reasons. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your view of these things) this often led to the photographer inadvertently placing himself, or to be more specific, his shadow, into the picture. Sometimes it is apparent that this was intentional, with the photographer having a little creative fun by finding a way of inserting himself into the photograph while remaining behind the camera. The majority of the time though the shadow is unintentional, with the photographer concentrating on the subject in the view finder and not noticing the dark shape until after the prints were made. It’s kind of ironic, focusing on the subject and getting results that make the intended subject secondary. The shadow becomes the center of attention. The shadow becomes what the photograph is about. We no longer have a photograph of Sally playing in her own yard. We have a photograph of Sally being approached by a stranger in her own yard. The shadow of the photographer changes what is happening in the photograph. The results can be playful and lighthearted or an ominous and disconcerting dialogue between the subject and the unknown.

100 Shadows, an exhibition of anonymous photographs all depicting the shadow of the photographer, will be on display in the lobby of Jefferson Market through October.

Click through here for books on vernacular photography.

Here is a listing of Monday night films at Jefferson Market through November. I’ll post detailed descriptions as the screening dates approach, but for now take a look and mark your calendars.

Of particular interest: On November 3rd, Werner Herzog’s Stroszek. This has to be one of my favorite movie endings of all time. America’s endless pursuit of entertainment! Herzog has called the final minute one of the best things he’s ever filmed. Bonus points for you if you happen to know the reported connection between this film and Ian Cutis of Joy Division. On November 11th, Errol Morris’ Gates of Heaven appropriately paired with Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe.

Click through for the full schedule...

Bloc-notes. Officially, that’s French for blog. But like those other tech nouns that have also become verbs (to google, to xerox…), I’m not sure how “to blog” translates en Français.

I still have people asking for the book Comment Parler Des Livres Que L'on N'a Pas Lus? Actually they ask for the English version. Like many of the books I enthusiastically recommend, I have yet to read it. It is part of an ever-growing list. That list is called The Ever-Growing List of Soon-To-Be-Read Books. The fact that I haven’t read a book certainly doesn’t stop me from talking about it, recommending it, or blogging about it. I read all the major review sources, I listen to the opinions of library users and coworkers, and I try to keep up with my List. When titles come up in discussion, I sometimes say “Oh yeah, that one is my List” and sometimes I say “Oh, you have to read that one!”

The Man Booker Dozen has just been announced, adding twelve more titles to my List.

The White Tiger, by Aravind Adiga
Girl in a Blue Dress, by Gaynor Arnold
The Secret Scripture, by Sebastian Berry
From A to X, by John Berger
The Lost Dog, by Michelle de Kretser
Sea of Poppies, by Amitav Ghosh
The Clothes on Their Backs, by Linda Grant
A Case of Exploding Mangoes, by Mohammed Hanif
The Northern Clemency, by Philip Hensher
Netherland, by Joseph O’Neill
The Enchantress of Florence, by Salman Rushdie
Child 44, by Tom Rob Smith
A Fraction of the Whole, by Steve Toltz

Some of these (Netherland, Enchantress of Florence) were obvious choices. I can’t wait to read Berger’s new one, due out in September. His About Looking and Ways of Seeing are two favorites of mine that I am constantly revisiting. I was surprised to see Child 44 on the list. From what I’ve heard it’s a very compelling read but definitely in the category of “airport fiction” and not “literary fiction”. Maybe it does transcend genres though. I’ll let you know once it gets to the top of my List. The Man Booker shortlist will be announced September 9th and the winner on October 14th.

Right now I’m 100+ pages into The Outlander, by Gil Adamson. Rather than give any in-depth plot summary, I offer you the first paragraph:

"It was night, and the dogs came through the trees, unleashed and howling. They burst from the cover of the woods and their shadows swam across a moonlit field. For a moment, it was as if her scent had torn like a cobweb and blown on the wind, shreds of it here and there, useless. The dogs faltered and broke apart, yearning. Walking now, stiff-legged, they ploughed the grass with their heavy snouts.”

Set in 1903, it’s about a female on the run. You know right away why she’s running but you don’t known all the details so you get hooked right away into wanting to find out what exactly happened. Adamson’s debut novel has been compared to Charles Frazier’s Cold Mountain (sorry, not a selling point for me) and the early work of Cormac McCarthy (SOLD!). Vendela Vida and Jim Harrison offer kind words on the back cover, and I’d bump titles from the bottom of my Soon-To-Be-Read list to the top based on their opinions. I have yet to reach the end, but the beautiful writing alone justifies picking the book up, or bumping it towards the top of your own Soon-To-Be-Read List.

10. It is hot outside. It is cool inside. Very cool!

9. It’s FREE!

8. I’m thinking about unveiling the world premiere of my new composition 4:34, a tribute of sorts, based on Cage’s own 4:33. So show up early! My composition is one second longer, and therefore, one second better!

7. See number 4.

6. The first film on the first night features Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
You might not know his name but you probably know his music. When you think of the Austin Powers flicks what song do you think of? Soul Bossa Nova by Quincy Jones? That catchy melody played on flute, that’s Kirk. Imagine a large African American male in a top hat playing three saxophones at the same time. He is also playing a flute with his nose. By using the circular breathing technique he plays continuously without stopping to take a breath. He is also blind. Sound like something out of a dream? Described as a “supernatural one-man vaudevillian freak show,” Ronald Kirk was born on August 7, 1936. Sickness at the age of two left him blind. A dream compelled him to change his name from Ronald to Roland. Years later he heard the name Rahsaan (also in a dream) and he added that one too. He never really received the credit or attention his contemporaries received, in part due to being labeled a gimmicky multi-instrumentalist. But he was no gimmick. He was the real deal.

5. The Jefferson Market Branch is easy to get to, in the heart of Greenwich Village.

4. See number 9.

3. John Cage was born on Sept 5, 1912 so you can come and celebrate (one month early) what would have been his 96th birthday.

2. John Cage once asked, “Which is more musical, a truck passing by a factory or a truck passing by a music school?” Come to our Monday night film screenings in August and you might find out.

1. Did I mention, like all the great events and programs at NYPL, that it is free? That is very cool. Very cool indeed.

See here for a complete listing of our August film schedule.

You know, there still seems to be that puzzling question among some members of the general public regarding what we librarians do beyond the traditional stereotypes. I mean, how many times have you been asked, “You went to school for this?” My stock response: “Well, it’s not rocket science, it’s library science!” Yes, librarians today do much more than sshhh people and locate books, but really when it comes down to it there is probably no aspect of librarianship more satisfying than the simple act of connecting people with good books.

Click through for more...

John Cage
Nine Films
Every Monday in August at 6PM
Jefferson Market Library
425 Avenue of the Americas at 10th Street
NY, NY 10011
1-212-243-4334

The schedule:

Do not set foot in my office. That’s dad’s rule. But the phone’d rung twenty-five times. So I went in. But the person on the other end didn’t answer.

The last six steps I took in one death-defying bound. We crossed the crossroads by Black Swan and went into the woods. The lake in the woods was epic. Granddad’s Omega’d never once gone wrong in four decades. In less than a fortnight, I’d killed it.

Powdery moonlight lit the attic room through the snowflake-lace curtain.
Her windpipe bulges as her soul squeezes out of her heart.
A silent roaring hangs here.
Not going anywhere.

It doesn’t happen too often, but there are some books that fall into the category known as “books I cannot read on the subway.”

More often then not these are books that make me laugh out loud, or at the very least give me watering eyes and one of those uncontrollable grins that can’t be wiped off my face. I get very subconscious and don’t want people on the subway car staring at me wondering “Is he laughing or crying?” or “Why does he have a big silly grin on his face?” or “He’s crazy.”

One of the books in this category was Jonathan Lethem’s, Motherless Brooklyn, where my fits of laughter were similar to the main character’s comical Tourette’s Syndrome outbursts. I started that book on the subway but had to finish it in the confines of my own home. Another writer whose work I can no longer enjoy during my commute to and from work is George Saunders.

David Sedaris’ entire body of work fits into this category. I recently flew to Colorado and in the Dallas airport I bought his new collection of essays When You Are Engulfed in Flames. I read the first few on the plane and had to put the book away when the flight attendant asked if I was ok. I challenge anyone to read his description of using a Stadium Pal while keeping a straight face.

They say laughter is the best medicine. David Sedaris is an overdose. I finished his book on the privacy of a porch with Pikes Peak in the distance, tears running down my face, my laughter echoing in the valley.

Wednesday August 6, 2008 at 6PM
Jefferson Market Branch of The New York Public Library
425 Avenue of the Americas
NY, NY 10011
212-243-4334

Presents the Penguin Classic Book Centennial Celebration:
Jose Garcia Villa’s Doveglion

Known as the “Pope of Greenwich Village,” Jose Garcia Villa had a special status as the only Asian poet among a group of modern literary giants in 1940’s New York that included, E. E. Cummings, Mark Van Doren, W. H. Auden, Tennessee Williams, and a young Gore Vidal. But Beyond his exotic ethnicity, Villa was a global poet who was admired for “the reverence, the raptness, the depth of concentration in [his] bravely deep poems” (Marianne Moore). Doveglion (Villa’s pen name—for dove, eagle, and lion) contains Villa’s collected poetry, including rare and previously unpublished material.

JOHN EDWIN COWEN, Editor—(Professor of Literacy, Fairleigh Dickinson University) and LUIS H. FRANCIA, Introduction Essayist—(Professor at the Asian/Pacific/American Studies Institute at New York University)—both widely published poets, authors, critics, and former students of Villa’s—will read and each give a personal analysis of this major Filipino-American’s poetry, including Villa’s technical innovations, his deeply spiritual, divine and uplifting lyrical poems as well as his playful caprices, aphorisms and unpublished writings appearing in this volume.