A while ago I posted a few of Harry Cory Wright's photographs from The Library of Trinity College Dublin, his pocket-sized portrait of that breathtaking building. Since then Typepad seems to have changed their settings and pictures here are appearing far less sharp than they should be, so I won't attempt to add to that gallery today, but I shall commend the book for its evocative images of age and venerability, learning and scholarship, craftsmanship and continuity.
In her introduction, Librarian and College Archivist Helen Shenton recalls her first impressions of the place:
"I first stepped onto the balcony of the Long Room - frequently described as 'the most beautiful room in Ireland', and often called 'the most magnificent library in the world' - early one summer morning as the soft, dust-speckled sunbeams radiated diagonally across the room. Cleric and historian Gerald of Wales (1146-1223) described the Book of Kildare (an early medieval Gospel manuscript - now lost - that is believed to have been similar to our Book of Kells) as 'the result of the work, not of men, but of angels'. On my first visit to the Long Room, it felt as if such ethereal beings might gently float down the early morning shafts of sunlight [...] Looking down at the 200,000 volumes in the handsome, dark, oak bookcases in the soft morning light, I was profoundly moved by the beauty, the stillness, the history, the accumulation of knowledge..."
Helen goes on to talk about visitors' reactions, from the tear in the eye, the expressions of awe, the lowering of voices, and the many comments, especially from younger people, on the books' scent - "the sweet note is attributable to furfural," she says, "the smell from ageing cellulose in paper; it is similar to the smell of almonds, which contain the same chemical."
A working, living library still, it has featured in films such as Educating Rita, and The Professor and the Madman, and was George Lucas's inspiration for the Jedi Archive in Star Wars: Episode 2, but its atmosphere - though magnificently conveyed by Harry Cory Wright's pictures - is best sensed in person:
"At night, or in the depths of one of those dark, dour November afternoons in Dublin when all colour seems to have drained from the world, the Long Room is as moving as it is in the soft light of early morning. When all the people have gone and the doors are closed, the eye is drawn through the gloaming, along the lines of busts, to the 'darkness visible' and to the palpable sense of the infinite."
A timely post! I am delighted to say that I will be visiting The Long Room next month on a trip over the Pond. Every time I see photos of the library, I am in awe. Can only imagine my reaction on seeing (and smelling) it in person.
Posted by: Mary | 03 December 2018 at 01:13 PM
Wonderful, Mary! I visited a few years ago and would return in an instant. I'm sure you will find it to be all you hope.
Posted by: Cornflower | 03 December 2018 at 01:37 PM
Thought I would tell you that I just returned from London/Dublin. Made it to the Long Room--a veritable cathedral of books. Truly lucked out that very few people were there (less than 10). Upon seeing photos of the virtually empty room my daughter had taken and posted on FB, my oldest son quipped that it appeared I had broken into the place after hours and that we should leave before the Garda showed up. Funny guy.
On a less pleasant note, we paid 25 euros for the two of us to see the Book of Kells. We just weren't told that room where the actual book was on display was, in fact, not open that day. Some people just walked into the gift shop where they were able to access the stairs to the Long Room without paying anything. Was not amused.
Posted by: Mary | 17 January 2019 at 11:04 PM
That's a poor show!
Glad you got to see the Library relatively empty though, Mary.
Posted by: Cornflower | 18 January 2019 at 05:25 PM