I went to the library today to pick up a copy of Body for LIFE, as well as to browse around a bit. (A trip to the library without browsing is, in my opinion, a wasted trip.) While searching for various things at one of the computer terminals, I typed in “tibetan buddhism.” One of the things which popped up, much to my surprise, was The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, which I’d seen on amazon.com and thought looked rather interesting. I thought, great, I’ll go ahead and check that out.
Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. It’s not that the record was wrong; the book is in the library’s collection. The record wasn’t wrong in displaying that the book was available, either: it was right there, sitting on a shelf. Right in the middle of… the reference section. Right in the middle of a section which consists solely of books which can’t be checked out. Argh.
The book isn’t a reference book. Besides the fact that it has printed words on the inside of it, it has no real similarity to say, a dictionary. (Ironically, there are many dictionaries available at the library, all of which can be checked out.) The book is just like the other dozen or so books they have on Buddhism. So what gives?
Here’s what gives: from what I can gather from the reference desk people, they’re forced to put a variety of books into the reference section, even if the books don’t really belong there. Why? Theft. Some books, for whatever reason, are “borrowed” from the library on a rather… permanent basis – again and again and again. They leave the library and never return. The library replaces the book, and then it turns up stolen again (or “lost”, as the catalogue system so politely shows). After three or four instances of a book being “lost”, if the library chooses to replace it again, they do so, but place the book in the reference section, so it can’t be so easily “lost.”
Apparently, a book with a title like “The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying” sends out a message which roughly comes out as, “Steal me!”¹ They couldn’t really remember any specific titles, but the reference people told me that other religious books often turn up missing, along with books about cults, and, of course, the ever popular, books about sex. A quick search at my library’s website brings back a result that I don’t find surprising in the least: The Complete Kama Sutra is, you guessed it, in the reference section. Now what good does that do? None whatsoever! Who wants to strip down to the skin and practice positions from the Kama Sutra in the public library? (Don’t answer that.) Really, now. The Kama Sutra is not something you want to browse with your significant other in the public library.
Anyway: to all of you who are stealing religious books, cult books, and sex books, knock it off. You’re ruining the fun learning experience for the rest of us.
- I’m wondering if the references to the Egyptian Book of the Dead in the movie The Mummy has anything to do with this. Maybe some teenagers thought there would be ways to raise the dead or some such in this book. Who knows. Tibetan, Egyptian.. Book of Living and Dying, Book of the Dead.. yeah, I suppose someone could make a connection there.
Hilarious. I had a similar experience recently. It was a book called something like Reference (or Dictionary) of Language. A first glance at the title is misleading, though, because this book is not something you actually use as a reference. Yes, it lists all the language families and their languages, but also talks about their history, their characteristics and the societies who use/used the language. It’s written in full text. It’s a narrative! But I didn’t actually try asking about it or explaining it to them. Next time I will.
Out of curiosity, what cataloguing system do the libraries in Belgium use?
The local library here uses the Dewey system, and while it’s alright, sometimes things end up in peculiar places. I think I blogged previously about the Icelandic language book being in the wrong place, because while it does have Old Norse “literature” in it, it is indeed a language learning book, not a book about literature.
They never did fix it, either. Grumble.
We used to use SISO, a Dewey variant, but our Antwerp library recently switched to this unique ‘modern’ system called ZIZO, an abbreviation which translates into +/- ‘look it up yourself with ease’. It uses colours and easy to understand subcategories (in Dutch). But while it is indeed easy to ‘understand’ it often makes no sense to me. I now know where most things are, but still it bothers me. I thought part of a library’s public function was to educate. Now, since we’re one of the few libraries who use it, I’d love to see someone who grows up on this arrive at uni and have to research the national library in Brussels or whatever. Learning a decent international classification system isn’t that hard, now is it?
/*end rant*/
In any case, I’d prefer if we used UDC, a system developed, by the way, by Belgian Paul Otlet, whom you really should look up. He was ‘classification mad’ and in the early 20th century envisaged a global system of information called the Mundaneum, an internet on paper if you will. Really great stuff! Well, for us book nutters at least
Interesting, but it doesn’t explain why MY public library labels random old and obviously unpopular books of fiction “REFERENCE” and then sticks them back on the nonreference shelves.
Diary Dear: That is rather peculiar.