Library of Unrequited Love by Sophie Divry Page B

aren’t automatically on the side of the humans, don’t be fooled. You don’t realize, but you’re a flock of sheep in our hands, you think you’re gambolling about free as air, but there are wolves everywhere lying in wait for you, cyclops, sirens, naked nymphs, oh, the pity of it … A barricade only has two sides and I know which side I’m on, comrade. I’m here to help the poor, depressed, thirsty reader faced with the crushing prestige of the Army of Books. You haven’t noticed, because I keep myself to myself, but I’m on your side, and alwayshave been. On the side of the pedestrians, the boules players, the regulars. With my shelfmarks 900 and 910. Some people have chosen the other side, the duchesses up there at 200 and 800. My class enemies. Look out, lady. Look out! I see them, the thought police of the library, I’ve seen the way they talk to the readers. They hit them over the head with “You must read
this
, or
that
”. They decide what’s “well-written” and what isn’t, they’re like statues of the
Commendatore
for French literature. They say that everyone must have access to Literature with a big “L”, then they put up this huge monument – the Classics – and it demands sacrificial victims every day, new flesh, fresh blood. With the duchesses, you’re never on the right foot, never. They’re the cultural cops. If you set foot in their precinct, hesitating, a bit unsure of yourself, you’re afraid they’ll call you over. “Hey, you. Yes, you! Show me your classics please. Hmm. Yes, very unsatisfactory, lots of gaps there. How long is it since you opened a book by Balzac? Hmm. Occupation? Do you have a full-time job? Oh well, you have no excuse. I’d be ashamed if I were you. What’s that book inthe bag? Open it, please. Oh, I see, very interesting. Easy reading. Airport book. Glossy cover. Badly written. Rubbish! And you plan on staying some time in this cultural state, do you? You’ll have to be taken in hand. I’m recommending a set of eighteenth-century classics for you, for ten months. Don’t argue, you’ve no choice. Report back to me after that. No, leave this book here, please. And don’t let me catch you again. Right, on your way now.” The brutes. I would never, ever let myself say things like that. Attacking the readers that way. Not even Martin, no. Anyway, I’ll tell you this, it doesn’t work. It doesn’t work any longer. On the contrary, you need kindness, more kindness, always more kindness. I see them come in here, the young kids from technical college, apprentices, the children who need study support. The first time, they come in groups, no way are they going to set foot in the library on their own. They come in with their mates, they make a lot of noise. As if they’re trying it on, to show they’re not intimidated, but of course they are, poor things, they’re terrorized. They shiver as they enter the arena, they know the booksaren’t on their side. When you’ve always been useless at school, thousands of books all gathered together in one place are scary, humiliating, for a man they’re castrating – well, that’s by the way. So, now my little flock settles down. That’s when you have to go over to them with a big smile and welcome them. They’ve got a project to do for school. I bring them some books. They whisper to each other, they don’t sit still. The regulars give them dirty looks, but it’s not too bad. Then some of them come back. They start to know their way around. They read pretty useless books, but at least they’re reading. It can take months, this kindness offensive. We know we’ve won when they come back all on their own. That’s when they feel at home, they’re accepted, they’re reassured. They have a right to be here. “School sometimes makes