WAKE UP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING LYING THERE? The library doesnât open for another two hours, you shouldnât be here at all. If it isnât the limit! Now theyâve started locking readers into my basement. Honestly, thereâs no end to what I have to put up with. No, no point shouting, itâs not
my
fault ⦠But I know who
you
are, you know your way round the library. You mooch about this place all day, so sooner or later you were bound to end up spending the night here. No, donât go away, now youâre here, you can give me a hand. Iâm looking for a book they want upstairs.
Existentialism Is a Humanism
, you know, book by Sartre, theyâve somehow lost it down here, so take a look on the shelves, please. What? You donât recognize me? But I work in this room every day. So I must be completely unnoticeable.Nobody sees me, thatâs my problem. Even in the street, people bump into me and say, âOh, sorry, didnât see you.â The invisible woman, thatâs who I am, the invisible woman, the one in charge of the Geography section. Ah, yes, now youâve remembered who I am, of course. Oh there it is, thanks very much, that was quick of you.
Existentialism Is a Humanism
has no business down here in my basement, we donât have philosophy on this level. It suits the eggheads on the ground floor. Iâll give it back to them, theyâll be pleased, theyâve been looking for it for ages up there. See, you really are a big help. Anyway, Iâm not allowed to open the doors for you, it would mean calling the security people, itâs too dangerous. Yes, it is, itâs dangerous, because it would be unprecedented, first time ever. And in a library, one should never draw attention to oneself. If you attract attention, youâll disturb people. You can just stay here with me, while I get my reading room ready. Iâve more books to shelve. And since youâre so efficient, can you take out of the History section all the geography books that readers have shoved in there? Go on, donât complain: sorting, rearranging,not disturbing people, thatâs what I do all day long. Taking books off shelves and putting them back on, over and over, ad infinitum. No, itâs not that fascinating, sorry about that. Because to put a book back in the right place, I donât even have to look at the authorâs name. I just have to read the numbers here, on this little label stuck on the spine, and slip it in with the others that have the same shelfmark. There, you see, thatâs all. And Iâve been doing this job for twenty-five years now, twenty-five years, with the same rules, it never changes. Even if they call me upstairs to the Loans desk, itâs no better. Checking books in and out, making the bar codes go beep-beep, think thatâs fulfilling? Beep-beep, âBack on twenty-sixth September, goodbyeâ; beep-beep, âBack on fourteenth May, thank youâ. Being a librarian isnât an especially high-level job, I can tell you. Pretty close to being in a factory. Iâm a cultural assembly line worker. So what you need to know is, to be a librarian, you have to like the idea of classification, and to be of a docile nature. No initiative, no room for the unexpected; here, everything is in its place, invariably in its place. Did yousleep well, at least, down here? No? You were scared? Oh, but itâs very quiet. I like the peace and quiet, I find it reassuring. But thatâs how I am, I need precision and routine. I could never work in a railway station: too much going on and the very idea that a train was going to be late would give me a panic attack. Anyway, I never take the train nowadays, Iâm too old for that. I donât drive either, itâs too dangerous and I hate car parks, I like old-fashioned beauty. Just the very idea of getting on the slip road to a motorway gives me palpitations. Donât stay standing up like
my
fault ⦠But I know who
you
are, you know your way round the library. You mooch about this place all day, so sooner or later you were bound to end up spending the night here. No, donât go away, now youâre here, you can give me a hand. Iâm looking for a book they want upstairs.
Existentialism Is a Humanism
, you know, book by Sartre, theyâve somehow lost it down here, so take a look on the shelves, please. What? You donât recognize me? But I work in this room every day. So I must be completely unnoticeable.Nobody sees me, thatâs my problem. Even in the street, people bump into me and say, âOh, sorry, didnât see you.â The invisible woman, thatâs who I am, the invisible woman, the one in charge of the Geography section. Ah, yes, now youâve remembered who I am, of course. Oh there it is, thanks very much, that was quick of you.
Existentialism Is a Humanism
has no business down here in my basement, we donât have philosophy on this level. It suits the eggheads on the ground floor. Iâll give it back to them, theyâll be pleased, theyâve been looking for it for ages up there. See, you really are a big help. Anyway, Iâm not allowed to open the doors for you, it would mean calling the security people, itâs too dangerous. Yes, it is, itâs dangerous, because it would be unprecedented, first time ever. And in a library, one should never draw attention to oneself. If you attract attention, youâll disturb people. You can just stay here with me, while I get my reading room ready. Iâve more books to shelve. And since youâre so efficient, can you take out of the History section all the geography books that readers have shoved in there? Go on, donât complain: sorting, rearranging,not disturbing people, thatâs what I do all day long. Taking books off shelves and putting them back on, over and over, ad infinitum. No, itâs not that fascinating, sorry about that. Because to put a book back in the right place, I donât even have to look at the authorâs name. I just have to read the numbers here, on this little label stuck on the spine, and slip it in with the others that have the same shelfmark. There, you see, thatâs all. And Iâve been doing this job for twenty-five years now, twenty-five years, with the same rules, it never changes. Even if they call me upstairs to the Loans desk, itâs no better. Checking books in and out, making the bar codes go beep-beep, think thatâs fulfilling? Beep-beep, âBack on twenty-sixth September, goodbyeâ; beep-beep, âBack on fourteenth May, thank youâ. Being a librarian isnât an especially high-level job, I can tell you. Pretty close to being in a factory. Iâm a cultural assembly line worker. So what you need to know is, to be a librarian, you have to like the idea of classification, and to be of a docile nature. No initiative, no room for the unexpected; here, everything is in its place, invariably in its place. Did yousleep well, at least, down here? No? You were scared? Oh, but itâs very quiet. I like the peace and quiet, I find it reassuring. But thatâs how I am, I need precision and routine. I could never work in a railway station: too much going on and the very idea that a train was going to be late would give me a panic attack. Anyway, I never take the train nowadays, Iâm too old for that. I donât drive either, itâs too dangerous and I hate car parks, I like old-fashioned beauty. Just the very idea of getting on the slip road to a motorway gives me palpitations. Donât stay standing up like
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