Libraries and Bookshops

I read two interesting stories this week. My interest was not so much what was in the stories as what was not.

The first one: 'I like my libraries stable, durable, serene. I am looking for adventure in the books, rather than in the building,' says Germaine Greer in The Guardian in a story titled Flashy libraries? I prefer to get my adventure out of the books not the building, and that if there was a lovable word for her it would be 'library'.

Even if my favourite when I was growing up was 'library' (I cannot remember what my favourite was then, to be honest), it was a word that was used often. There was a school library, of course, not big but interesting with lots of books donated by USIS at that time. Do they still do that? Then there was the Johore Bahru town library, a 15-minute bicycle ride from where I lived, next to the post office. It a simple boxy two-storey structure, packed with books. Whoever stacked the shelves knew how to buy them. Then every weekend we would drive into Singapore to use the National Library on Stamford Road. We were all card carrying members - my parents, my three siblings (the youngest was less than ten at that time) and me. And every weekend we would come back with at least two books apiece - they had a Tamil section for my mum.

I am going to tell you a story of Gay and Peter. (I may have told it before, but I think it is worth repeating.) When Gay married Peter and moved to Malaysia in the early seventies, they lived in a plantation in Teluk Anson. She says boredom almost killed her. Then she heard of the Kuala Lumpur library and became a member. The KL library at that time had a simple arrangement. Periodically (I cannot remember if it was weekly, fortnightly or monthly), the library would send Gay a selection of books (according to a list of preferences provided by her) locked inside a wooden box, by train. Gay would, on its arrival in Teluk Anson, pick out about twelve books that interested her, return some of the earlier ones, lock the box and return it to the Kuala Lumpur library by the return train.

This over 30 years ago and you may well ask, "What happened?" Well what happened, indeed. The last I heard the Johor Bahru library has been moved out of the city - to some place quite inaccessible, I would assume. The National Library on Jalan Tun Razak is a fine example. What were they thinking?! After spending millions, the book collection is sad, it is completely inaccessible, the wide open spaces inside the building could be converted to skating rinks and the roof into ski slopes. The Kuala Lumpur library at Dataran is an imposing structure, but was told it is open only during office hours, the last time I tried to get in. What is the point?

Going back to Germain Greer, 'I am looking for adventure in the books, rather than in the building.' What's wrong with a library in a rented bungalow, a shophouse or a even a mall. We are MallAsia, after all. (Sorry, couldn't resist that.)

Then the second story: In a story called World class marketing Neal Hoskins writes in The Guardian weblog: 'Foreign titles tend to get hidden away in bookshops, but I think their relatively exotic provenance could be a real selling point.'

Jees! How completely opposite to the situation in Malaysia, is that? Here it would read: 'Malaysian titles tend to get hidden away in bookshops, but I think their relatively exotic provenance could be a real selling point.'

An American couple that used to visit Silverfish Books often (they are back in the US now) used to be amazed at what a bizarre country this is. We have humungous bookstores all over Klang Valley (eight, the last I counted, Singapore has only two) in a country that, the government acknowledges, does not read, choker-block with books from the US and the UK. Malaysian titles, if stocked at all, would be in a bottom shelf, at the back of the store.

(They would also ask me why Malaysian newspapers don't review local book? I shall not go there, nanti merajuk pula with me - for my 'big mouth' - as I suspect at least one of them (or a group within) already is. Yes, this is a bizarre country.)