In Susan Orlean’s upcoming book, The Library Book (S&S, Oct.), the author tells the story of the 1986 fire that devastated the Los Angeles Public Library, destroying 400,000 books and damaging 700,000 more. Woven into her telling of the 2,000-degree inferno, Orleans shares personal anecdotes that elucidate her lifelong love of books, reading, and libraries.
An Excerpt from Susan Orlean’s New Book
I grew up in libraries, or at least it feels that way. I was raised in the suburbs of Cleveland, just a few blocks from the brick-faced Bertram Woods branch of the Shaker Heights Public Library system. Throughout my childhood, I went there several times a week with my mother, starting when I was very young. On those visits, my mother and I walked in together but split up as soon as we passed through the door, and each of us headed to our favorite section. Even when I was maybe four or five years old, I was allowed to head off on my own. Then, after a while, my mother and I reunited with our finds at the checkout counter....
Our visits to the library were never long enough for me. The place was so bountiful. I loved wandering around the bookshelves, scanning the spines until something happened to catch my eye. Those visits were dreamy, frictionless interludes that promised I would leave richer than I arrived. It wasn’t like going to the store with my mom, which guaranteed a tug-of-war between what I wanted and what my mother was willing to buy me, because I could have anything I wanted in the library.... It was such a thrill leaving a place with things you hadn’t paid for; such a thrill, anticipating the new books we would read. On the ride home, my mom and I talked about the order in which we were going to read our books and how long until they needed to be returned.... We both thought all of the librarians at the Bertram Woods Branch Library were beautiful. For a few minutes we discussed their beauty. My mother then always mentioned that if she could have chosen any profession at all, she would have chosen to be a librarian, and the car would grow silent for a moment as we both considered what an amazing thing that would have been.... When I miss my mother these days, now that she is gone, I like to picture us in the car together, going for one more magnificent trip to Bertram Woods.
