Library 146: Proctor Free Library
In a dark place, be a Joan.
Library 146! The Proctor Free Library was the 146th stop on my quest to read, write, and knit in every public library in Vermont.
I read: email
I wrote: email
I knit: a classic ribbed hat in yarn from wool from sheep grown in Vermont.
On the way into library 146 I walked past signs warning people to take the river seriously. An iconic marble bridge just below the library crosses Otter Creek, which shortly leads to falls. My stomach hurt thinking of accidents that necessitated the sign. The 2023 flood reminded us of the power of water. I stood and stared at the creek before going inside, thinking about death.
Because of this somber start, I was pleasantly pleased to meet Joan, a jolly antidote to my mournful mood. Joan was the elementary school librarian for 24 years before retiring. She gave me a jovial tour.
I was the only patron upstairs during my visit, but I could hear a lively bone density class downstairs. I wandered around in silence on the top floor, into a dark section of stacks with the lights off, taking photos of trinkets and impressive woodwork. I found a dress form. And a happy plant.
As far as the quantity of taxidermy in libraries goes, Proctor Free is close to the top. Birds and mammals of Vermont are labeled and set between two glass panes in display cases that look built specifically for taxidermy. This taxidermy was no accident! Certainly not leftover from a pile of unwanted stuff and donated. Intentional. I did notice that the Canada Warbler was mislabeled as the “Canadian Warbler,” a common mistake the Canada Goose is most familiar with.
I sat in a leather arm chair and knit alone in a dark room that overlooked the creek, still thinking about death. Around me were items collected from someone’s travels a long time ago. Intricate stained glass. An old stereoscope made of metal, glass, and leather (a prototype of the plastic View-Master of my childhood). A brass contraption. So many old things.
Without intention, libraries I visit are sorted into categories in the mental map I keep of my visits. One of the most simple dichotomies of categorization is “light” and “dark.” This library was placed in the “dark” category. Older buildings were not designed for light the same way modern buildings are. They hold on to the dark in a way that evokes a mellow vibe. In contrast, Joan was pure light, as was the fireplace of toys. I am writing this post on the day of the summer solstice, so light is on my mind.
Proctor has a vibe and feel that I imagine is not unlike the vibe and feel it had in 1925. Some libraries feel like a historical record based on aesthetics (not because they contain literal historical records). I walk inside and am transported into the past. The current events around the time of this year’s summer solstice remind us of the power of history in interpreting the present. It feels so dark, the work ahead. It feels so dark, the past.
In a dark place, be a Joan.
I love the reflection on dark and light in this one.