The meek, withdrawn, spinster librarian is perhaps one of the most pervasive images in popular discourse surrounding librarianship. This librarian-type seems especially cut-off from the surrounding community. She (for this type is always female) lives isolated in her world of books. When she is viewed at all by the community, it is from the distance, not as a participating or full member of society. She is often more comfortable with cats than with people.
Polacco, Patricia. Aunt Chip and the Great Triple Creek Dam Affair. New York: Philomel Books, 1996.
The old crazy woman, who always stays in her bed, just happens to be the former town librarian. She withdrew 50 years earlier when television took over. The story begins: "Absolutely everybody in Triple Creek loved their TV sets." As a result, everyone has forgotten how to read. Yet, Eli's Aunt Charlotte (or Aunt Chip, as he called her) never owned a TV: "This made her suspect in the eyes of the townsfolk of Triple Creek, especially since she had "upped" and taken to her bed well over fifty years ago and vowed never to get out of it again." Her bed is covered with a dozen cats. Eli loves her stories, but when she asks him about books, he claims he has never read one. She tells him about the library which Triple Creek once had, and how it was closed and torn down. The town did not look kindly on the librarian who refused to surrender to the power of television: "Folks started callin' her mad for sittin' in that empty old building day after day. Finally they carried her away, crazy as a March hare, everyone said." Aunt Chip teaches Eli to read, and soon other children ask to learn as well. This leads the children to search for books everywhere--especially in those places where they have been misplaced since the advent of television. One day this leads Eli to remove Moby Dick from a wall of books that just happens to be the town dam. The resulting flood washes away the television tower, cutting off service. During the resulting confrontation between the television-addicted adults and the book-loving children, Eli comes to the realization that his aunt was the "crazy" librarian from fifty years ago. Aunt Chip and the children (with the aid of a rainfall of books) convince the town to try reading books again, and soon Triple Creek undergoes a cultural renaissance. This books bears many similarities to Library Lil (Williams), especially in the confrontation between television addicts and the librarian. In both books, catastrophic events lead to an interruption of television service, which gives the librarian a chance to reintroduce reading as an activity. The librarian converts the community back to the world of books.
Rubel, Nicole. Cyrano the Bear. New York: Dial Books for Young Readers, 1995.
If Cyrano de Bergerac had lived as a cowboy in the American West, he might have been a bear with a big nose ... He also might have been secretly in love with the town librarian, a sheep named Roxane--"with her cloud of curls, pink ears, and dainty hooves." Cyrano "got all tangled up when he thought about Roxane, the town librarian." Since she marries Cyrano in the end, she is not really a spinster. Yet, she exists only as a point of fixation for the principle character. This updated version of Cyrano de Bergerac opens with Roxane in front of the library and Cyrano viewing her from the side. She is looking away from him--that is, she is somewhat distant--and is holding the signs of her trade, books. We mostly see Cyrano sending Roxane valentines (with a rock, through the window) at her overly delicate, and silly-looking, house which contains many books of poetry. The librarian is not only the object of desire for Cyrano, his deputy (Wolfie) and everyone else in the town "admires" her. Her community--the only one she truly connects with--is Cyrano.
Stewart, Sarah. The Library. Illustrated by David Small. A Sunburst Book. S.l.: Farrar Straus Giroux, 1995.
Our heroine, Elizabeth Brown, is very much the stereotype of a "spinster" librarian, although she is never fully identified as a librarian in the book. She performs library functions, however, in that she develops a (rather huge) collection, and in the scene from her college days where "She manufactured library cards / And checked out books to friends, / Then shocked them with her midnight raids / To collect the books again." Thus, while she is otherwise employed, she still acts as though she were a librarian. She spends all her time reading, which she learned to do at a very early age. Later, when she arrives at college, she has so many books that they break the upper bunk bed in her dorm room.
She almost never appears to interact with other people, with the exception of the book dealer, and even "preferred a book / To going on a date." She is so other-worldly, that she promptly gets lost when she leaves the college one day, and settles down where she is and starts to earn a living (i.e., money for buying books) by tutoring. Her house is soon full of books, which make good end-tables and which "became building blocks for busy little guests." Note that she does not READ these books to the children ... Finally, her house so full that she cannot buy any more books. She then donates them (and her house) to the town to become a new public library--a very generous gesture. She moves in with a friend, who shares her passion for reading, and they spend the rest of their lives reading. Her most constant companions in the book are the cats who prowl and sleep amongst the books. In a sense, they are like her: smart, but aloof.
Her lack of interaction points to Elizabeth Brown being the stereotypical librarian who remains separate from her community. However, she does not try to maintain any sense of order--she merely accumulates. Like the classic librarian stereotype, however, she disappears into her environment--she often is shown with a book strategically placed over her face. Thus, she is faceless, in a sense. This is a fun book, especially for those who are overly fond of reading, but it also works on a subliminal level at establishing the librarian stereotype--if you too are shy, nearsighted, etc., then perhaps you should work in a library?
Complements, compliments, annoyances: Matthew Z. Heintzelman
