Maybe this book isn’t exactly what everyone would choose to combat ignorance, but I can honestly say I though a lot after I finished this book. First, “The Color Purple” is a highly contested book that often comes under fire, because it discusses some incredibly difficult topics, such as racism, abuse, poverty, rape, substance abuse, sexuality, I mean the list goes on and on, making it a perfect target for those who would like to sweep these issues under the carpet, rather than grow as a society and face the truth. The truth is: horrible things happen all the time regardless of how good someone is, what color they are, their religion or orientation, or where they are from. Hardships befall even the best of people. Having said that, the true measure of a person’s character is their actions, especially when one finds him / herself in the worst situations. Celie is a perfect example of the strength that someone can have to endure.

I won’t lie, this book is heartbreaking. I cried more than once, but it brings up so many topics that are so hard to confront, that it would be an injustice to not read on. Celie ha such heart, such determination, that you want her to find happiness and peace the whole way through. With each bruise she receives, each heartache, each hurdle, you urge her one, and wonder at how she actually does. I dare anyone who reads this book to not understand the love that Celie and Shug share, or the wrong in how Celie is treated, or feel awe when they see the integrity that she shows, despite all that she has endured, and know that she is still a woman of incredible fortitude and grace.

It is a commonly known fact that movies are hardly ever better than the book. Sorry, that’s just the way it is. The most recent one to leave me totally pissed though, was:

I love the Harry Potter series, and this book was one of my favorites in the series. They shortchanged the living shit out of it. There was so much drama in the book that was only touched on in the film. Dumbledore was such a huge figure in Harry’s life, and the dynamics between Snape, Harry, and Dumbledore is a paramount aspect of the storyline. It just could have been done so much better. I’m still miffed. lol I remember that I walked out of the movie after it was over with very colorful language tumbling from my lips.  

I just stumbled upon this, and it made my hear flutter. Reading an amazing book feels just like this…

http://www.sublackwell.co.uk/

As a new librarian, there are probably many things I will learn over the years. That’s one of the reasons I was motivated to take up the profession. I won’t automatically have all the right answers, nor the right books. I’ve made my peace with this. What they neglected to mention to me, however, is that I will meet some strange creatures that inhabit The Stacks.

Now, now, I know that fellow librarians out there will often remark about this or that patron. My library has “The Bible Lady” who likes to have people read passages to her, and Mr. “I’ll Take You to Court Over $.20” who shits a brick over his fines all the time. Yes, these “gems” make our jobs… worth it, and my personal favorite is a gentleman I have affectionately named: Peanut Butter Man.

Peanut Butter Man (or PBM) is a homeless guy who waits patiently outside our doors every morning to waltz in as soon as we slide the bolts back, and open our doors. He has his own little spot, back towards non-fiction, where he likes to sleep facing the wall with a hooded head, and a newspaper adorning his lap. This is how I have come to know him: 

Day 1:

8:55 a.m. : I notice PBM (who at the time I thought of as “that dude”) looking at his laptop as he waits outside for the library to open.

9:00 a.m. : “That Dude” closes his laptop, selects a newspaper, and heads for a corner.

11:45 a.m. : I go to shelve a book and notice “That Dude” clipping his toenails.

11:46 a.m. I remind myself that I should be like the reed, and go with the wind… away from the epic grossness unfolding before my eyes, and say a silent prayer to the nice janitorial staff that will have to vacuum up his tiny, little, yellow bits of DNA.

12:00 p.m. : “That Dude” wakes from a long nap to eat peanut butter with his fingers.

12:01 p.m. : I silently scream as I watch him lap the peanut butter off his dirty fingers… that were previously touching is filthy feet, and curse the heavens that there are so many damn travel books to shelve.

12:16 p.m. : I shall name thee “Peanut Butter Man”

Day 2:

9:00 a.m. : He’s back, apparently he lives here, and I do believe I see a jar of peanut butter in his bag. Game. On. *Heave*

Day 3:

9:00 a.m. : Rinse, repeat, and add more Jiffy.

10:17 a.m. : I ask my supervisor if she knows that homeless people sleep in the corners of our library. She informs me that they have no where else to go. “It’s Florida,” she says, “t’s hotter than the fires of hell outside, and they can’t sleep at night or wild animals will eat their food. It’s sad.”

10:18 a.m. : Shit. Now I feel guilty.

10:19 a.m. : Why the fuck does he have a laptop? 

The days have continued on as such: PBM comes everyday, and everyday he eats peanut butter. He will sometimes browse on his laptop, mostly he sleeps. PBM is a man of mystery. It did get me thinking though… Now, before you read on, I want to warn you. I am not always nice. I try to be, but… so stop now if you think you are going to find a happy ending where PBM gets a bath and a new home.

Everyday I find myself wondering who PBM is, and why he has no home, family, or even a shred personal hygiene. Are there places he can go? Does he like being homeless? Is that why he spent his shekels on a laptop and not a few clean shirts or a bed for the night? Why does he eat peanut butter all the time? Sure, it’s high in protein, but shit, throw some jelly in the mix. His priorities are way off.

Then I wonder about what my role, and our library’s role in this should be. Am I supposed to take the vagrants and vagabonds of this hot box we call home under my wing? The rules say that I should never talk to them, being as I am presently a page (an assistant), and only the librarians should converse with them, because they could be dangerous. O.K., I’m a year away from being a librarian. What do I do then? Ignore them?  What if it was a mother and children? Just because it is a single, white male doesn’t make it any less disturbing that these people are lost, and that all I am expected to do is hand them a romance novel. That’s all anyone wants us to do…

So here I am, casting out my net to see if there is an answer. What should be done?

One upon a time, there lived a girl. She was curious… to a fault. She wanted to learn about all of the world’s contents. All its stories, all its secrets, and all of its hopes, dreams, and even its nightmares. It was then that she posed the question to herself, “Self? How can I learn all there is to know?” Her first impulse was to check all viable resources. Books, people, Google till her fingers fell off (which she quickly glued back on). That’s when it hit her, “I should be a librarian, a gatekeeper of knowledge,” and so she did.

Well, that girl is me, and I soon found myself in a place that I refer to as “The Stacks”. The Stacks is what I call my time spent  among books, patrons, in the land of academia, etc. I will tell you that I am currently a graduate student who has completed my first year of my masters, and that I work at a public library. It has been an interesting experience so far, trying to find my way through a world filled with strange questions and tall tales. I want to try to find a way to leave a breadcrumb trail for others who decide to enter The Stacks, and become librarians. It seemed only natural to use words…

I must warn you, though, that I have no sense of direction, and that my breadcrumb trail will lead you in a thousand different directions. There shall be sidebars of art, baked goods, knitted monsters, and rants aplenty!