arenât automatically on the side of the humans, donât be fooled. You donât realize, but youâre a flock of sheep in our hands, you think youâre 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 Iâm on, comrade. Iâm here to help the poor, depressed, thirsty reader faced with the crushing prestige of the Army of Books. You havenât noticed, because I keep myself to myself, but Iâm 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, Iâve seen the way they talk to the readers. They hit them over the head with âYou must read
this
, or
that
â. They decide whatâs âwell-writtenâ and what isnât, theyâre like statues of the
Commendatore
for French literature. They say that everyone must have access to Literature with a big âLâ, then they put up this huge monument â the Classics â and it demands sacrificial victims every day, new flesh, fresh blood. With the duchesses, youâre never on the right foot, never. Theyâre the cultural cops. If you set foot in their precinct, hesitating, a bit unsure of yourself, youâre afraid theyâll call you over. âHey, 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. Iâd be ashamed if I were you. Whatâs 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? Youâll have to be taken in hand. Iâm recommending a set of eighteenth-century classics for you, for ten months. Donât argue, youâve no choice. Report back to me after that. No, leave this book here, please. And donât let me catch you again. Right, on your way now.â The brutes. I would never, ever let myself say things like that. Attacking the readers that way. Not even Martin, no. Anyway, Iâll tell you this, it doesnât work. It doesnât 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 theyâre trying it on, to show theyâre not intimidated, but of course they are, poor things, theyâre terrorized. They shiver as they enter the arena, they know the booksarenât on their side. When youâve always been useless at school, thousands of books all gathered together in one place are scary, humiliating, for a man theyâre castrating â well, thatâs by the way. So, now my little flock settles down. Thatâs when you have to go over to them with a big smile and welcome them. Theyâve got a project to do for school. I bring them some books. They whisper to each other, they donât sit still. The regulars give them dirty looks, but itâs not too bad. Then some of them come back. They start to know their way around. They read pretty useless books, but at least theyâre reading. It can take months, this kindness offensive. We know weâve won when they come back all on their own. Thatâs when they feel at home, theyâre accepted, theyâre reassured. They have a right to be here. âSchool sometimes makes
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