My intellectual cozy space - threatened in the digital world.
When I was working on my doctorate, I spent time at the British Library, a.k.a. the BL. (That’s also their web address: bl.uk.) Truth be told, it was the easiest large archive for me to reach. It’s two blocks from London St. Pancras station, where the trains from Nottingham arrive. I could walk from my flat between Maid Marion Way and the castle in Nottingham to the train station and two hours later be in the British Library.
It’s not really a library. It’s a repository and archive and more than anything else, an experience. It has a gift shop, an exhibition space, and at least four places to get tea without leaving the building. When I walk into the British Library, I exhale. It’s like coming home. My shoulders drop a little bit. I have my pencils, a small magnifying glass, my laptop, and an A5 grid notebook ready to go into a clear plastic bag to enter the Manuscripts Reading Room. If I’ve planned things right, there are some pre-ordered manuscripts waiting for me at the call desk.
The Manuscripts room has restricted access. You have to show the guard at the door your Readers card and . . .
. . . . For more see my Substack.