How to: survive in the library

After 11 weeks of reading week-less term-time, it’s safe to say that everyone’s brain has turned to mush. So as I sit down to revise IR theory, I figure I’d […]


After 11 weeks of reading week-less term-time, it’s safe to say that everyone’s brain has turned to mush. So as I sit down to revise IR theory, I figure I’d be best off making tenuous analogies to things I actually understand to learn this shit. Case in point, the library. Some of you may think the library is a perfect example of a fair, well-run environment. After all, it has rules, punishments and bad-ass gates at the entrance. However, this is wrong. As I will argue, only the hard-bastard school of neo-realism can help you understand how our library works.

When I first came to this university, an unblemished soul, I strived to maintain my library manners: only taking books out when I needed them, returning them the minute afterwards; holding the door open for people at the stairs; not murdering people for talking loudly. My shockingly naïve behaviour worked for about a week, until the seasoned honours students went all Shock and Awe on me and pillaged the IR shelves like a plague of locusts.

Thankfully, I learnt this tough-love lesson in the good old days of first year, the time when you could read Wikipedia, knock-up a rewrite and still have time to vomit in the Union toilets before closing. Now, as I slog my way through my final year of IR, I find the only way to succeed is to adhere to the rules of neo-realism. Here are the key components.

The Library is an Anarchic System

The is the beginning of all analyses of the neo-realist world and it rings true at the library. The problems of library etiquette stem from the fact that there is no authority in it. “But hey,” I hear you shout, “we have a library system! Aren’t people punished for hoarding books? Don’t you have to pay fines?” Well, yeah… but this only applies if you’re either a) poor or b) an idiot. You seriously think that someone in a tweed jacket worth more than your house is bothered by a 50p fine? The weak suffer what they must, the strong do as they wish before heading to Ma Bells.

Of course, you only actually pay the library fine if you’re dumb enough to have a book overdue. But any seasoned library maven knows the “revolving book” system, where you return the book and then get it out immediately afterwards; that precious binding of paper and ink never once leaves your greedy mitts. Many a time have I kept the only copy of a book in short loan out for 48 hours (not actually reading it) whilst all the suckers in my module wallow in their library inadequacies.

The Problems are Structural

Believe it or not, this university isn’t made up of complete bastards. Well, not everyone is one anyway. But this library isn’t made for nice people. Either you adapt to this anarchic system or someone else will get that book out, and you’ll be forced to pour over countless unrecommended tomes in the hope of finding something relevant. Do neither and you fail your degree. Even that lovely girl from the Christian Union, who politely declines your amorous advances at the toastie bar, turns into a Machiavellian minx when it comes to essay deadlines. It’s do or die.

War is the Continuation of Studying by Other Means

We’ve all been there. One book, two people staring at it. You turn and look each other in the eye. You know they know. Your hair stands on end but you don’t move as you wait… you dare them to make the first move… And then it happens: both of you leap for the book in slow motion. You think you have it but as your fingers are millimetres away from its precious cover your enemy gets there first. You lie there, humiliated, sprawled out on the rough carpet while your opponents flashes you a cheeky smile. This is about the point where you calculate the balance of power between you and decide whether or not they’re going to knock you out if you bash them over the head with a hefty encyclopaedia. Like I said, we’ve all been there.

Photo © Anna Gudnason