The Morgan Library began as a personal library. Today, it an is a museum, an archive, and a research library located in the center of New York City. I am grateful to two friends, Fran Dillon and Tom Keller, for bringing its rich history, architecture, and offerings to my attention.

My introduction to the Morgan Library happened last month, when Fran shared a video from their archive called “How to Be a Living Poem.” I found this conversation between poets Marie Howe and Maria Popova, both of whom I admire, to be fascinating, not only in its content and the way they used holdings of the Library’s archives on Walt Whitman and William Blake to illustrate their points.

Now I am aware that the Morgan holds musical scores linked to the work of Ogden Nash, that sui generis satirist beloved by all ages, in all ages; that it offers freely a wealth of video archives available over the Internet; and that the founding librarian was Bella da Costa Greene. (you, too, might like the novel, The Personal Librarian, by Marie Benedict, which tells her story. It is rich in history and has modern relevance in terms with regard to fighting prejudices linked to race and gender.) On top of all that, the library’s facade is also adorned with carvings, just like those at the New York Public Library. These lionesses are the elder sisters of (male lions) Patience and Fortitude, and were carved by the same sculptor, Edward Clark Potter. Take a look at the sculptures side by side on this delightful blog, NYC Encounters.

I hope to be able to visit this jewel of a library in person one day.

The Multnomah County Central Library in Portland, Oregon is the first library I ever loved. It was founded in 1864 as a club for dues-paying members. Nearly three decades later, in 1891, as the Portland Public Library, it became free and open to all.

For me, as a child, visiting this library was an occasion, not only for its holdings but for its magnificent presence. I felt uplifted when I saw its facade from the street and truly transported inside its reading rooms. This is the place where I checked out d’Aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths, that classic by husband and wife, Ingri and Edgar, over and over until I had it memorized. When I was twenty-five years old and first employed as a writer in Northfield, I bought my own copy.

The Northfield Public Library and Context for Poem “Lullabye for Anon.”:

I have spent more time as a reader, writer, and volunteer in here, in the Northfield Public Library over the past thirty years, than I have in any other library, yet I am still always finding new things to cheer. On Saturday, friend Robert Bruce, alerted me on Saturday that my own work is in the current poetry display in the Northfield Public Library. What?

Yesterday, I went to find out for myself, and, yes, Bob, a retired librarian, was correct.

Such a surprise for me–an inexplicable but wonderful one.

This encounter, a blink of fame, if you will, made me think about the courage it takes to speak up in any way, in any situation. For some–for far too many of our neighbors–it can be downright dangerous. That is why I was especially honored to have two of my own books displayed next to a justly celebrated anthology, Here to Stay: Poetry and Prose from the Undocumented Diaspora. These works ask where does our safety lie, in sharing or in silence? My own poem arose out of this question, emersion in Ogden Nash, and musing on those who attack with words from the shadows. We never know what is really here to stay–but we know for certain that libraries play an essential part in that preservation.

A big thank you to librarian Katlin Heidgerken-Greene for graciously taking photos of me yesterday at the exhibit. It was lovely to meet you, Katlin!

Until tomorrow,

LESLIE

Remember, as the sign says, “We Can All Be Poets/Todos Podemos Ser Poetas”!