Postcard From Seattle: Seattle Central Library

Libraries are almost unnecessary nowadays. Other than for students where the library is almost a sanctuary from the crazy that can be dorm-life, libraries quite often become ignored and forgotten. The library in the town where I grew up was a giant, brown brick eyesore. Dark and dated, the only use I had for my local library was its monthly used book sale. The Seattle Central Library, however, is massive. It is a spectacle. I read some reviews about the downtown glass and steel structure, criticizing, mostly, its interior design. I have to admit that when I first saw the building I was turned off. Typically, I am not hugely engaged by modern design. When it comes to architecture, Seattle's Printer's Row district and Chicago's lake side Michigan Ave. area (with The Drake hotel) are more my scene.  The central library in Seattle, is drastically opposed to the general aesthetic of architecture with the personality I like to see.

That being said: photos!

 

What I have decided I enjoyed about the library design is that it does not look like a library. The library of my childhood is aesthetically depressing, comparable to an institution or worse: a shadowy, neglected structure, once intended for intellectual interaction, now devoid of potential. I'm a lifelong reader and book collector. Bookstores excite me, and a library like the Seattle Central Library excited me.

 

The interior is sprawling with eleven levels of space, most all of which are available to the public. Levels 6-9 are called "The Book Spiral". This area is where the stacks of books are located, literally a spiral of sloping ramps, easy to glide through. The book spiral is in the center of the 4 levels, enclosed by plexi-glass walls. The concept innately opposed to ordinarily dreary, windowless library stacks. As long as there is daylight in Seattle, there will be natural light in the library stacks.

 

 

Overall, the stacks were serene. Surrounded by natural light and a great view of the city, I was comfortable reading for a bit on a big purple couch and later using one of the four hundred computers to plan my next move.

  

One of the most surprising moments was exiting the elevator on the fourth floor. A long time Twin Peaks fan, I am instantly drawn to anything that reminds me of the red room scene. Creepy, brilliant: Lynchian.

The fourth floor is a giant, circular red room!

I have still yet to visit the Harold Washington Library in Chicago, but Seattle has inspired me to take a look. Seattle's library has continually been the structure I've talked about most from my trip, especially from an economical standpoint. It's free and it has a great view. Personally being one of the few people I know without a smart-phone, it was useful to have a place to go to where I could map out my next move.

Read By Country (Paint By Number) and Trees

I am rereading Kurt Vonnegut's 1973 novel, Breakfast of Champions. I like reading, and I think I used to love reading a lot more than I do now. I become totally consumed in novels and it is always hard for me to choose one to read following one I particularly enjoyed. I usually need a lot of time in between.

When I first moved to Japan, and really throughout my time there, I read a lot of Japanese authors. Murakami Haruki, Kirino Natsuo, Abe Kobo, Murakami Ryu, and Yoshimoto Banana. Murakami Haruki is my favorite and I read Kafka on the Shore my first week back in the States. It mostly took place in places I was familiar with like Tokyo and Nakano (a neighborhood in Tokyo), and the main character traveled to the island of Shikoku which I have been to a number of times. Reading his novels while being in Japan and now is a more intimate experience because I know the places he mentions and it's my little secret that not many other people share with me.

Like Murakami, Kurt Vonnegut is very popular amongst younger people that first start reading him in high school through a friend or an ex-boyfriend and then they introduce his novels to other people and its a great little appreciation club. A literary theory professor of mine at IU and I exchanged emails about good and bad literature. He said something that put Kurt Vonnegut in the same category as Chuck Palahniuk, discarding both as easy to read trash, more or less. I've never been a huge Palahniuk fan. I liked his short story Guts, but I can read his books in an hour and I sort of only discovered him in college, so maybe I was too old for his style by that point anyway. Regardless, I should have given up on my English major at that point. I never felt totally comfortable as an English major, but I didn't know where else to go at the time. The point is that I feel deeply about Vonnegut and what he has written. I think his books helped me develop a smart sense of humor and of life and I like those things about myself the most. I was terribly sad when he died just one month before my graduation in 2007.

Kurt Vonnegut is from Indianapolis, Indiana. His novels make me feel connected to America and happy to be American. Other Americans that I like include Jay-Z, Emily Dickinson, David Lynch, Aretha Franklin, and Jon Stewart. So I am reading Breakfast of Champions and it is easing me back into the scheme of things.


I want to do some comparisons. Tokyo VS. Chicago. I am actually really enjoying Chicago's aesthetic. Recently I wrote an email to a friend that began innocently enough, but ended in a compare/contrast deconstruction of Tokyo's vs. Chicago's architectural aesthetic. A tangential tirade of sorts. I want to not do that here.

Following is a street in Tokyo's Itabashi neighborhood. It was taken while on a "KNOW YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD" walk that some friends and I were known to take on uneventful days off. Itabashi is walkable from Ikebukuro, the neighborhood where I lived.

This image is unusual because most streets are not this well manicured or beautifully canopied. So out of the ordinary that I remember thinking it reminded me of America. Trees are not this big in Tokyo, and apartments are not this old. The basics that distinguish the buildings as Japanese are here, though. The large balconies to hang dry clothes, the boxy-ness of the buildings, the overly protective safety rails on the side of the walkways. The cleanliness of the road itself. You could eat off that road. I chose this photo because this afternoon I was touring my neighborhood in Chicago and look:

Canopied sidewalk! Trees are abundant in Chicago and it's good!!