Your question, "Is the fiction circulated by our public library helping to enlighten people on social and economic problems?" is one which I can answer promptly and affirmatively. Looking at fiction in the mass, it is without doubt an enormous educational influence. Leaving out of view for the moment the historical novel, or the sociologic novel, and taking merely the local novel, the novel which vividly portrays the life of a special village, or country, or nation, we find it of the greatest service in teaching the people of one country, or class, how the people of other countries and other classes live. Such books bring the ends of the earth together. They unite the north and the south, the east and the west, in common sympathy and understanding. They contribute very largely to the higher patriotism, as well as to the profounder social brotherhood.
It would be easy to criticise fiction for other and less valuable content, but speaking generally, I believe it to be second only to the stage in its power to affect the young student of life and manners.
Very sincerely yours,
HAMLIN GARLAND.
Ithaca, N. Y.,
May 16, 1913.
You ask for comment—as "related particularly with their own special interests" and at the risk of being charged with "talking shop," I have been brutally frank. Yet I hope it will cheer these splendid workers for civilization.
The library is not "doing as much as it might to be a true University to the People." Books alone will not attract the insensitive or indifferent, nor will handsome buildings. Equal to other necessity of the library to be "a true university to the people," is that of arousing interest, awakening curiosity and alluring into path ways that lead to books and reading. I know of nothing better than to have cheap, popular, illustrated lecture courses that constantly refer to books and the special theme.
Does the local librarian or do active directors, attempt seriously to tap the knowledge of the local specialist, professional man, or public spirited speaker? Do the library people emphasize the necessity of close, personal contact, as far as possible, with the individuals and with the people? Libraries must be more human. No machinery, or salaried personnel, however costly or efficient, within chosen lines of activity, can do without that same human sympathy, which in other professions, is known to outweigh in value, all edifices, or the paid professional corps; yes, even in religion or philanthropy. Not all, but most libraries—and I have looked in, and at, and around many—are too self-centered.
Yet with this criticism, honestly called for and as honestly given, none can appreciate the librarian more than I. To guide youthful reading, warning as well as advising and alluring them to high flights, is to make the librarian's calling second to none in our complex civilization.