Light, Natural
There has been so much difficulty in getting good light into all parts of a library, and so much joy over the substitution of electricity for gas, that there is some danger of daylight being ignored. Dewey[194] pictured “a solid core of books with modern lighting,” and B. R. Green[195] argued elaborately in favor of disregarding natural light altogether under certain conditions. It is quite time someone championed God’s free gift to man. For daylight, notwithstanding its occasional glare and its temporary defects, is still the cheapest, the readiest, the cheeriest, and the healthiest light for men and for books.
Indeed, the modern advocates for substitutes seem so far to have spared readers, and only included stacks in their enthusiasm. But I have not yet entirely surrendered hope of stacks, and I have many sympathizers. The late James L. Whitney was an excellent and experienced librarian. Not long before his death, he and I were stumbling through the dark corners of the stack in the library of which he was so long a faithful servant. As we fell together, he turned and said impressively, “If you ever plan a library, insist on having ample natural light wherever you can get it.”
I quote Champneys[196] in support: “While the direct rays of the sun are often sufficiently powerful to become an inconvenience to readers and a source of injury to [the bindings of] books, yet such are their purifying properties, that their total exclusion is not recommended.”
The old monk-architects knew their business. In the earliest specimens of monastic libraries, note a full-width window opposite each alcove. In the library of the Sorbonne, Paris, in 1638, there was “plenty of daylight on the desks from east and west, to fill the whole length of the room.”[197]
Light should never be so admitted as to dazzle the eyes of readers, or blind them while searching on the shelves for books, or reading at their desks. The ideal direction to strike them is from behind, and from the left, with no shadows falling on book or paper.
Prismatic glass is recommended, to aid in throwing light into dark places, like courtyards or cellars. Translucent glass (as used in the Library of Congress) “sufficiently softens the rays of the sun in the southerly windows.”
“There should be abundance of daylight with least direct sun.”—Fletcher.[198]
“Good, natural light is the first essential.”—Marvin.[199]
Aspect. In planning, the aspect of each room is very important. North, as in studios, is the best aspect when direct light is always needed, though it will be cold if without double windows in winter. East only has direct light when it is apt to be most grateful, in the early morning hours. South is apt to be hot and glary, though the sun is too high at noon to strike far into the rooms; but west lets in slant or level rays of hot and blinding light which needs screening. Which front to give a room is matter varying with climates and localities, and needs special study always.
Modifying Glare; Curtains. To certain aspects, south and especially west, direct sunlight brings unpleasant glare, and in summer intense heat, so that it is really necessary to use shades or screens. Bostwick[200] recommends that shades for large windows be double, either up or sideways. In the Library of Congress all the shades in each stack can be drawn or withdrawn simultaneously. This is often the arrangement for high windows in large reading-rooms.
It may be pointed out that good taste in choosing colors for shades will do much toward allowable and very effective decoration in a library, without added expense.