By Arthur E. Bostwick.
In selecting books for a public library, the two things generally
taken into account are the public desire and the public need. The
different values attached to each of these two factors may be said to
determine the policy of the library in book-buying. The extreme cases,
where full force is given to one factor while the other is entirely
disregarded, do not, of course, exist. Libraries do not purchase every
book that is asked for, without considering whether such purchases are
right and proper. Nor do they, on the other hand, disregard popular
demand altogether and purchase from a list made up solely with regard
to what the community ought to read rather than what it wants to read.
Between these two extremes, however, there may be an indefinite number
of means. A librarian may, for instance, purchase chiefly books in
general demand, exercising judgment in disregarding such requests as
he may deem improper. Or he may buy chiefly those books that in his
opinion should be read in his community, listening to the voice of the
public only when it becomes importunate. Several considerations may
have part in influencing his course in this regard. In the first
place, a library with plenty of money at command may in a measure
follow both plans; in other words, it may buy not only all the good
books that the public wants to read, but those also that it should
read. The more limited the appropriation for book purchase, the more
pressing becomes the need that the librarian should decide on a
precise policy. Again, a library whose books are for general
circulation would naturally give more heed to popular demand than a
reference library used chiefly by students. Further, an endowed
institution, not dependent on public support, could afford to
disregard the public wishes to an extent impossible in the case of a
library whose expenses are paid by the municipality from the proceeds
of taxation. Above and beyond all these considerations, the personal
equation comes in, sometimes very powerfully. It often seems as if
some library authorities regard popular favor as an actual mark of
discredit, while others look upon it almost as a condition precedent
to purchase. Take, as an example, the so-called "fiction question,"
over which most libraries, and some of their patrons, are at present
more or less exercised. There can be no doubt of the popular regard
for this form of literature, especially for the current novel or
romance. Some libraries would sternly discourage this preference and
refuse to purchase fiction less than one year old, while others do
not hesitate to buy, within the limits of their purses, all such books
as would be likely to interest or entertain the average reader of
taste and intelligence. The views of the selector regarding the
relative importance of the library's duties as an educator and an
entertainer must also affect his views.
It has been tacitly assumed that the selection is made by one person.
As a matter of fact, however, the final approval is generally given by
a book committee of some kind, usually a committee of the library
trustees or persons responsible to them, often with the help of
outside advisers. The weight of the librarian's views with this body
will depend on various circumstances. Sometimes he has his own way;
sometimes his wishes are practically disregarded. Moreover, the
composition of such a body varies so that any continuous policy is
difficult for it.
Owing to all these facts, it is probable that no two libraries in the
United States, even when they are closely related by classification,
as when both are branch libraries for circulation, state libraries,
public reference libraries, or university libraries, are pursuing
exactly the same policy in book purchase, although, as has been said,
their various policies are always compounded of different proportions
of these two factors,--regard for the wishes and demands of their
users, and consideration of what is right and proper for those users,
from whatever standpoint. The stickler for uniformity will lament
this diversity, but it is probably a good thing. In many libraries,
there are as many minds as there are men, and it cannot be and ought
not to be otherwise.
Now, how does the person, or the body, that is responsible for the
selection of books for a library ascertain the facts on which, as has
been said, the selection must be based? It is usually not difficult to
find out what the public wants. Its demands almost overwhelm the
assistant at the desk. Some libraries provide special blank forms on
which these requests may be noted. They are often capricious;
sometimes they do not represent the dominant public wish. The voice of
one insistent person asking for his book day after day may impress
itself on the mind more forcibly than the many diffident murmurs of a
considerable number. In libraries that possess a system of branches,
there is little difficulty in recognizing a general public demand.
Such a demand will be reported from a large number of branch libraries
at once, in which case the chances of mistake will be small. In the
New York Public Library many useful suggestions are gained through the
operation of the inter-branch loan system, whereby a user of one
branch may send for a book contained in any other branch. Books so
asked for are reported at the central headquarters, and if they are
not in the library at all, the request is regarded as a suggestion for
purchase. Should such requests come from users of several branches at
once, the desired book is very likely to be purchased. Often the
demand is general rather than specific, as for "a book about the
Caucasus" or for "more works on surveying," and sometimes they are
vague or misleading, titles being wrong and authors' names spelled
phonetically; yet the work made necessary in looking up these demands
is more than repaid by the knowledge that it may result in making the
library of more value to the public.
In some cases the librarian desires not only to respond to the public
want, but even to anticipate it. He does not wait to see whether a new
book on Japan will be in demand, because he is sure that such will be
the case. He does not hesitate to order a new book by Kipling or Mrs.
Humphry Ward as soon as he sees its title in the publisher's
announcements. The necessity for some other anticipatory orders may be
less evident, and this kind of work requires good judgment and
discrimination; but in general if a book is to be purchased on
publication, it cannot be on the library shelves too soon after the
date of issue. In any case, where it is desirable and proper to please
the public, double pleasure can be given by promptness; hence the
importance of being a little before, rather than a little behind, the
popular desire.
All this calls for little but quick and discriminating
observation,--the ability to feel and read the public pulse in
matters literary. It is in regard to the second and more important
factor that failure waits most insistently on the librarian. What are
the public's needs, as distinguished from its desires? What ought it
to read? Here steps in the "categorical imperative" with a vengeance.
The librarian, when he thinks of his duty along this line, begins to
shudder as he realizes his responsibility as an educator, as a mentor,
as a trainer of literary taste. Probably in some instances he takes
himself too seriously. But, no matter how lightly he may bear these
responsibilities, every selector of books for a public library
realizes that he must give some consideration to this question. In the
first place, there are general needs; there are certain standard books
that must be on the shelves of every well-ordered library, no matter
whether they are read or not. It is his business to provide and
recommend them. What are these standards? No two lists are alike. They
start together: "the Bible and Shakespeare"--and then off they go in
divergent paths! Secondly, there are special needs dependent on
locality or on the race or temperament of the users of a particular
library. The determination of these needs in itself is a task of no
small magnitude; their legitimate satisfaction is sometimes difficult
in the extreme. To take a concrete instance, the librarian may
discover that there is in his vicinity a little knot of people who
meet occasionally to talk over current questions, not formally, but
half by accident. They would be benefited, and would be greatly
interested, in the right sort of books on economics, but they have
scarcely heard that there is such a subject. That the public library
might be interested in them and might aid them would never occur to
any of them. The discovery of such people, the determination of just
what books they need, and the successful bringing together of man and
book--all these are the business of the librarian, and it is a part of
his work that cannot be separated from that of book selection.
In much of this work the librarian of a large library must depend to a
great extent on others. Both the desires and the needs of those who
use his library he must learn from the reports of subordinates and
from outside friends. The librarian of a small library can ascertain
much personally; but both librarians are largely dependent upon expert
opinion in their final selections. After concluding that the library
must have an especially full and good collection of books on pottery,
the selector must go to some one who knows, to find out what are the
best works on this subject. When there is a good list, he must know
where to find it, or at least where to go to find out where it is. He
must consult all the current publishers' lists as they appear, and
scan each catalogue of bargains. His list of books wanted for purchase
should far exceed his ability to buy, for then he must, perforce,
exercise his judgment and pick out the best. If, after all, the
collection of books in his library is not such as to meet the approval
of the public, he must bow meekly under the weight of its scorn.
The deluge of books that falls daily from the presses is almost past
comprehension. The number of intelligent readers, thanks to the
opportunities given by our public libraries, is increasing in due
proportion. To select from the stream what is properly fitted to the
demands of this rapidly growing host is a task not to be lightly
performed. That the authorities of our libraries do not shrink from it
is fortunate indeed; that the result is no worse than it is, is a fact
on which the reading public must doubtless be congratulated.