Editorial.
Nottingham Trent Uni gets a lot of flak from my uni. Admit it. At some point you have made fun of people who attend Trent. 'Polytechnic'. 'Mickey Mouse'.
Well, you can all fuck off.
The moment the Hallward is a beautiful, graceful, glassed building with a dazzling open-plan system of balconies (accessed by one central staircase) with shelves whose classmarks are in a logical numerical sequence and upon which books are replaced by attractive, friendly and helpful staff - then and only then will the University of Nottingham be able to throw stones at Trent. Because that is exactly the library available to Trent students.
Notts Uni is old. The Hallward is old and it is ugly. On the outside: 1970s spaceship. On the inside: wood-fabulous belly of a narwhale. When it tries to implement technology (SmartCard access to the library, SmartCard photocopying, self-service in the Short Loan Collection) in the desperate attempt to move into the 20th century, it doesn't really work. It feels half-hearted, forced. Gadgets rattle about in the Hallward, looking self-conscious, awkward, like your nan at a rave. You get the impression that the librarians are still pining for their card catalogues. The books in the stacks are all catalogued according to an arcane, indecipherable system. What are 'stacks', anyway? No one one really knows, but everyone talks about them. Anyone can wander into the library; the electronic barriers have never been turned on. There is reputedly an audio-visual room, but no one knows where it is. But rolls and rolls of microfilm are kept in the Short Loan Collection. Maybe someday, someone will want them.
Things break. The photocopiers time out while you're using them. The book you need is archived in a basement five miles away. There are no windows, anywhere, and it is always freezing.
Old libraries are beautiful, intoxicating, mystical places full of arcane knowledge in which you could spend your whole life and still want to read more. New libraries are smooth, simple places which contain all the knowledge you actually want and which use their integrated technology to let you find this. Both types of libraries have their place.
Clearly, the Hallward used to be the former, but for some reason feels it ought to be making a move towards the latter, and in doing so has become a hybrid, strung between existences, making noises about moving on while it still has its arms wrapped firmly around tradition. No one wins.
Well, you can all fuck off.
The moment the Hallward is a beautiful, graceful, glassed building with a dazzling open-plan system of balconies (accessed by one central staircase) with shelves whose classmarks are in a logical numerical sequence and upon which books are replaced by attractive, friendly and helpful staff - then and only then will the University of Nottingham be able to throw stones at Trent. Because that is exactly the library available to Trent students.
Notts Uni is old. The Hallward is old and it is ugly. On the outside: 1970s spaceship. On the inside: wood-fabulous belly of a narwhale. When it tries to implement technology (SmartCard access to the library, SmartCard photocopying, self-service in the Short Loan Collection) in the desperate attempt to move into the 20th century, it doesn't really work. It feels half-hearted, forced. Gadgets rattle about in the Hallward, looking self-conscious, awkward, like your nan at a rave. You get the impression that the librarians are still pining for their card catalogues. The books in the stacks are all catalogued according to an arcane, indecipherable system. What are 'stacks', anyway? No one one really knows, but everyone talks about them. Anyone can wander into the library; the electronic barriers have never been turned on. There is reputedly an audio-visual room, but no one knows where it is. But rolls and rolls of microfilm are kept in the Short Loan Collection. Maybe someday, someone will want them.
Things break. The photocopiers time out while you're using them. The book you need is archived in a basement five miles away. There are no windows, anywhere, and it is always freezing.
Old libraries are beautiful, intoxicating, mystical places full of arcane knowledge in which you could spend your whole life and still want to read more. New libraries are smooth, simple places which contain all the knowledge you actually want and which use their integrated technology to let you find this. Both types of libraries have their place.
Clearly, the Hallward used to be the former, but for some reason feels it ought to be making a move towards the latter, and in doing so has become a hybrid, strung between existences, making noises about moving on while it still has its arms wrapped firmly around tradition. No one wins.
posted by Lucy at 4:42 pm
4 Comments:
Tell me about it... once someone in the Law library wouldnt serve me because i was 'drunk and disorderly' I told them to keep their fucking monkey.
Its SIX PENCE A SHEET TO PHOTOCOPY up here. It fucking IS grim up north.
Heh.
My first University didn't even have a feckin' library. We relied on the kindness of strangers...
The second one had a brand spanking new one, which whilst aesthetically rather pleasing, was utterly devoid of any content in the form of books you actually needed.
Hence, I discovered the miracle of lexis-nexis and Jstor and all sorts of online journal store's and oh yeah, bought a shed load of books.
Which is why I hold a library on Rwanda that is unparalleled in the Irish Education system.
Checked out your Flickr photo's, good stuff! And a belated Happy Birfday Lucy!
Christophe, thanks! I hope your Rwandan library is useful to you in day-to-day life!(?)
Eric, come to London next weekend! Bring your ladyfriend! There will be a German, a man with a beard, me, and if we are lucky maybe a man with glasses (but probably not).
Actually, Saturday is the one day in the week where my beard has a rest and doesn't come out to play.
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