The Library of Congress is Awesome
It's a truism that real DC residents rarely get down to the Mall to exploit things like the Capitol, the National Gallery, and the monuments. Maybe it's the irritation we feel about tourists who stand on the left side of the escalator, maybe it's the lack of reasonably priced beverages. At any rate, after 15 years in DC, this Saturday I finally went down to the Library of Congress to get my reader's card and hit the stacks.
I suppose that as a library sciences student it was inevitable that I'd end up there. Heck, I've been using LOC call numbers since my first full time job (Dewey is for dweebs-- yeah, I said it). But it was only now, when my 7th class in the program required me to compare a pre-1850 and a modern edition of the same book, that I knuckled down and took the Metro to Capitol South.
You can walk into the Library of Congress any time if all you want to do is look at the architecture, mosaics, and exhibits-- and yes, it's totally worth that. But if you actually want to get a book off the shelf and into your hands, you have to register and get a reader card. I was dreading the hoops I'd have to jump through, but as it turns out, my better half and I sailed through the process in under 20 minutes. The funniest aspect of it was that at least three times during the registration they asked if we were actually there to do research. Apparently, they have perennial problems with daytripping tourists coming down and registering for a card just for souvenirs.
Card in hand, I made my way to the main reading room in the Jefferson Building. I turned in my request slips, and waited. It's telling that I waited over 40 minutes each time I submitted a request, but didn't really budge from my seat on the worn wooden benches. The reading room is huge, Aya Sofya huge, and centered around a massive, tiered desk like a little fortress of librarianship. (Oddly, the rib-high bulwark of the central desk made me think that a Muppet was going to pop up from behind it at any moment.) The circumference of the dome is studded with stained glass, the balconies are guarded by statues of intellectuals and abstracts. And, there are books. I'm not sure what I expected the Library of Congress to look like, but I consider those expectations exceeded.
I did get the book I wanted in the end-- an 1840 edition of Sir Walter Scott's Lady of the Lake. I love that their collection is comprehensive enough that they can just toss a 160 year old book in the regular stacks. Around the LOC, "rare books" means three or four centuries old. They've got a Gutenberg 42-line Bible, for crying out loud. (I've seen it now-- it was in better shape than my Lady of the Lake.) I've got to go back there soon-- I wonder how old a copy of Sherlock Holmes I can get my hands on.
