城西国際大学水田記念図書館
Vol.69〒283-8555

千葉県東金市求名 1 番地

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図書館だより2024
3Mar

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Going Back to the Library
語学教育センター

Angel Figueroa

Memories flooded me as I entered the university library. They were triggered by several simple actions.
First, there was the electronic gate that swung open with a beep as I touched the sensor with my ID card.
However mundane, it recalled the feeling I had when I was a student many years ago of crossing athreshold into a fairylike place of knowledge and learning for only selected members. Then there was mytreading on the thick soft carpet, with pleasant sights of neatly displayed books on small tables, which
acted as a delightful welcome. As the expanse of the first of three floors opened before me, with highcolumns of books interspersed by reading tables, I noticed how their chairs were snugly set in place. It wasa warm and soothing sight, with a sense of inviting familiarity. From above, fluorescent lights cast a coolglow that made everything look sparklingly clean and precisely organized, setting a mood for quiet study
and concentration for the scattered, lone students who were focused on their studies. I used to know thisfeeling all too well. All these sensations mingled with the heavy silence to at once loosen my shoulders,kindle a spark of focus on the task at hand, and to fortify myself against distractions. It felt so comfortable,
but it was also surreal being back in a place that was once so familiar to me when I was a university
student. I was reminded of the saying by the Argentine author Jorge Luis Borges – whom I had studied -that paradise is a kind of library.
The one common motif in these memories involved books. I had grown up with books, but it was not justthat I enjoyed reading so much. My earliest memories involved seeing my father reading books all thetime, and it was not just his past time. There were books all over the house but also in his place of work,where I would visit sometimes after school. It came as no surprise to me that he actually worked withbooks. Books were everywhere, all the time, in his life. He was a university librarian, first as a cataloger
then as a reference librarian.
I became familiar with the library setting from a young age. Between my father’s workplace and local
public libraries, I found delight immersing myself in many areas, such as in European comic albums,
illustrated reference books, as well as 19th century Russian and 20th century British literature. Fantasy
and science fiction novels also had their impact on me -- a natural escape for any teenager. Thus, before I
had become a university student, I had already logged countless hours of library visits, and among myprofound influences and budding expertise were the worlds of the Belgian journalist Tintin, Europeanvintage stamps, Mayan hieroglyphs, the intriguing character insights of Dostoyevsky and Graham Greene,
as well as the amazing worlds of JRR Tolkien and Iain M. Banks.
Then followed my life chapter as a university student, where my library visits housed my studies inhistory, Latin American literature, and linguistics.
Perhaps there are universal rules about a library regardless of country or setting: they are peaceful andsoothing places which allow you to open your mind, focus deeply, and grow with ever more interconnected
knowledge over time. (Yet of course the more you learn, the more you realise the vast amount of yourunfamiliarity across a range of subjects).

The university library that I was entering now – as an assistant professor, not a student --- half a planet
away from the libraries of my upbringing was not so different. There was a sense of home: a comfortablestate of mind when time stood still.
How ironic it was then that I had not been visiting the library much since being hired a few years ago.
One would think that I would have embraced such a familiar setting. But on the contrary, I had not. The
reason soon became clear. Whenever I passed the library entrance and was reminded of my father, mychildhood, my love of books, and my days as a university student, this in fact triggered a wall of
bittersweet nostalgia stopping me from entering the library. What was the explanation? I suppose it
involved the intensity of my experiences and recollections of my recently deceased father.
When there finally came a reason to visit the library, the nostalgia broke away to uncover what waslike a delightful reunion. I learned of a journal article that was needed for my research, and it was only
available via an academic database. While the visual cues from entering the library helped rekindle myfondness for the ‘library experience’, this was enhanced by what happened at the computer console where
I input the search terms for the article. As it appeared on the screen, I copied the bibliographical data ona small bit of scrap paper. The sound of the pencil scrawling across the paper was like music to my ears.
I showed it to a librarian who provided me with a PDF within minutes. I was grateful, thrilled,
rejuvenated and looking forward to my next visit.

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