Libraries are Amazing Places
For millennia mysteries have called, siren-like, to the human soul. They invite us to fathom and explore the intricacies of our bewildering existence. Some are overwhelming, others more whimsical. One of my favourite mysteries of recent times falls somewhere in between these two extremes and is celebrating its 10-year anniversary this week. It began with the discovery in the Scottish Poetry Library of a small, exquisite sculpture accompanied by a brief note. It arrived in March, just as Spring was garnering its transformative powers and comprised an old book with a tree growing out of it. It was sculpted from paper, had an eggshell of poems and a card which read:
“It started with your name @ByLeavesWeLive and became a tree… We know that a library is so much more than pages full of words… This is for you in support of libraries, books, words, ideas…”
The Scottish Poetry Library (SPL) is a well-kept secret, tucked as it is down Crichton’s Close off the Canongate, next to the massive Tun building where Scottish Courage once brewed its beers. It is a cathedral for poetry lovers everywhere, full of books and light and resonating with the chatter of visiting school children. As one enters one crosses, carpeted in stone oak leaves, those words written by the Scottish poet Patrick Geddes: ‘by leaves we live.’ The sculpture itself reflects the artist’s intimate knowledge of the library. The poem that links the tree to the gilded eggshell is one written by another Scottish poet, Edwin Morgan, Scotland’s then National poet or ‘Scots Makar’, in whose honour the SPL had recently opened the Edwin Morgan archive. Morgan had written a delightfully playful tribute to another great modern poet Basil Bunting, in which he lists the various kinds of bunting – a species akin to a finch – and ends with a lovely tribute to his friend:
A TRACE OF WINGS - Edwin Morgan
Corn Bunting - shy but perky; haunts fields; grain-scatterer
Reed Bunting - sedge-scuttler; swayer; a cool perch
Cirl Bunting - small whistler; shrill early; find him!
Indigo Bunting - blue darter; like metal; the sheen
Ortolan Bunting - haunts gardens; is caught; favours tables
Painted Bunting - gaudy flasher; red, blue, green; what a whisk!
Snow Bunting - Arctic flyer; ghost-white; blizzard-hardened
Basil Bunting - the sweetest singer; prince of finches; gone from these parts
Over the ensuing months another nine sculptures appeared in public buildings and literary venues around Edinburgh, each of which revealed in whimsical and enchanting ways, an intimate knowledge of the space in which they appeared. To this day only the Scottish writer Ian Rankin (in whom the artist confided) and the publisher of the book that celebrates this creative impulse know the identity of the sculptor. We know she is female, but that is about it. Alarmed by the softly creeping demise of libraries and museums around the world, as one by one they give way to the pressing demands of economic rationalism, this artist decided to make a statement in the best way she knew how. To create beautiful and memorable works of art as an elegiac eulogy to the vanishing world of books and the human aspiration they inspire. Her statements caused something of a furore in Edinburgh and beyond, with each new piece discovered making the front page of the newspapers. For me, it is an entirely charming and captivating story. In the book that emerged, our anonymous sculptor described herself thus:
A woman, who had been a girl, whose life would have been less rich had she been unable to wander freely into libraries, art galleries and museums. A woman who, now all grown, still wants access to these places and yes, wants them for her children.
Here at All Saints our wonderful library staff work tirelessly and passionately to celebrate the magical world of books and learning. Indeed, our two libraries are amongst my favourite places to visit on my various wanderings around the school. If anyone reading this article feels moved at some stage to smuggle and snuggle a sculpture into the welcoming arms of our libraries, then I can assure you it will be greeted with great wonder and enthusiasm!
Libraries are amazing places. They fuel our imaginations and take us to exotic places where extraordinary characters move us to tears, make us laugh and sometimes teach us how (or how not) to live. Our libraries at All Saints are places of wonder where our young folk are invited to leave for a while the hustle and bustle of a busy school day to drift away on adventures that delight and engage. I hope they will be around for as long as our school exists.
Patrick Wallas
Headmaster
