K.L. Kranes

The library hasn’t changed since I lived in NYC, but I have. Tourists still clog the sidewalk, but now I am one of them. I’m a prodigal daughter who can see past my former pretension and enjoy the city on a different level, both metaphorically, and it turns out, literally and literarily.

And so, after wresting me from my cozy reading spot at the Library Hotel, my husband and I, both for the first time in our lives, stepped inside this iconic library.

Turns out, Ghostbusters did not properly prepare me for the experience. It wasn’t at all what I expected. Walls of marble. Giant candelabras. Busts and sculptures. It felt like the Louvre, not a library.

The library exhibits added to the museum feel of the building. We spent a long time wandering through an exhibit called Revolution. It focused on the culture and literature of the Vietnam War era. (Side note: It felt a little surreal and depressing because the exhibit could have been about right now.)

Up until this point, we had not seen an actual book, except for a few glass-encased manuscripts in the exhibits. Climbing up a level of marble stairs, we finally discovered there is actually a library in the New York Public library. And it was awesome.

Books lined the lower half of the rooms, almost seeming inconsequential under the soaring ceilings. Almost. People sat next to small lamps, heads bent over books. Actual library patrons in action! They focused on reading, while I, with the other tourists, snapped pictures, like visitors at a really weird zoo.

But even in the book-filled rooms, I still couldn’t shake the feeling I wasn’t in a library, but a museum. Dark paneling. Oil paintings. Wrought iron chandeliers. Gold plating. Ornate trim. And to complete the museum aesthetic, soaring above each room were elaborate murals, like in the Sistine Chapel.

I was a little surprised I didn’t see more cherubs. (Note to the NYC library, perhaps invest in a few tiny baby angels. If Renaissance art has taught us anything, everyone loves tiny baby angels.)

My musings about the museum-like quality of the New York Public Library should not be viewed as a criticism or a complaint. In fact, there is something very spiritual about the library.

For most of our human existence, we’ve spent countless man-hours, time and money beautifying religious spaces like churches and synagogues and mosques. We have filled them with paintings, murals, stained glass, mosaics and numerous other forms of artwork. They’re in large, formidable buildings with sometimes extremely ornate facades.

For me, books are just as spiritual as religion and by treating a library like a religious space, decorating it with awe-inspiring art and encasing it in marbled walls, it makes the New York Public Library feel like a place of worship for literature and knowledge.

Stop #3: A museum about libraries…get your reading glasses, it’s time to party…

We entered the modern building with its straight boxed lines and glass elevator, curious but with relatively low expectations. This was the Morgan Library and Museum. Essentially, it was described to us as a museum about libraries. Even though we love books and museums, we were skeptical.

Before entering, I imagined exhibits on “librarians through the years” or “establishing the Dewey Decimal System.” None of which seemed particularly compelling. In fact, the only reason we chose to visit The Morgan was that we’d received free tickets with our stay at the Library Hotel.

My husband and I first wandered into an exhibit on medieval manuscripts. Thick books with drawings twisting like vines around hand-written text lined the outside perimeter of the exhibit. At its center was a giant illuminated manuscript scroll encased in glass, so long it probably would have stretched across all of Manhattan if fully laid out.

We quickly became absorbed by the shimmering pictures and pondered the complex medieval calendars (aka, astrolabes) mounted on the wall.

In the next room, we encountered something completely different. Here beautiful, unflinching black and white photographs, mostly portraits, hung on stark white walls. Some were very unnerving, but all much more fascinating than the history of the Dewey Decimal system.

We ended our tour of the museum learning about Tennessee Williams. His exhibit included primordial versions of his plays, scribbled and scratched up with his notes and documents outlining his successes and failures. (Note: Moral of the exhibit, see his plays as plays. Apparently, although the movies are Oscar-winning, they leave out all the good stuff.)

As we exited the museum my husband and I both said the same thing, “That was shockingly interesting.”

Note: After returning from NYC, I discovered I somehow missed an entire incredible half of the Morgan Library and Museum. It’s the non-modernized half that looks like something out of Harry Potter with books weaving up three levels, rolling ladders and a ceiling painted with literary scenes. Birthday weekend fail! (Or partial fail. The other half of the museum was also very cool.)

Not sure how I missed this, but apparently I need to go back and try again.

Stop #4: There’s no place like…the best indie bookstore on the planet

No bookish visit to NYC is complete without visiting The Strand. The bookstore is not new to me. For a while my husband and I lived just north of Union Square and spent many nights and weekends walking through the park, watching a movie at the theater, eating dinner at the now-defunct Republic and, yes, visiting The Strand.

The Strand, isn’t just a bookstore, it’s a New York institution. And if it ever closes down, New York will have lost a part of its soul. Although I already had a stack of books, procured by the Library Hotel book concierge with the help of the lovely salespeople at The Strand, I had to stop in and maybe buy a few more books. (A girl can never, ever have enough books. I will stand by this statement until I die.)

It was just as I remembered. Books clustered on old wheelie carts on the sidewalk outside. Stacks of books on tables in the front, shelves in the back. Old books. New books. Book-related tchotchkes.

For me, The Strand will always be the quintessential indie bookstore. And it filled me with joy and pride to have to squeeze through the narrow aisles, not just because they were narrow, but because they were packed with people. Long live the indie bookstore.

Stop #5: Bookmarks and strange cocktails…Or the best end to the best literary day

After a long day of books and libraries, what better way to end the evening than with…more books. Well, in this case, it was a book-themed bar. Just a few floors above our room in the Library Hotel was a little bar called Bookmarks (aptly named.) The bar spills out onto a garden terrace filled with ample seating and blooming trees.

The menu boasts of (overly expensive and sometimes odd) literary-themed cocktails. While I appreciated the “novelty” the beverages, some of the drinks were complex (translation: experimental and sometimes the experiment failed). My suggestion, should you ever visit the bar (and you can even if you don’t stay in the hotel), don’t choose a drink just because it has a cute pun in the name. (That’s probably good advice when choosing any food or beverage.)

However, the best part of the bar was on the other side of the brick walls of the garden.

Standing on my tiptoes (because I’m short, taller people may not have this problem), at just the right angle, I could see right down 41st Street to the New York Public Library. In the fading sun, it glowed with a tinge of orange.

At the bar, my husband and I relaxed into our cozy love seat under a pink flowering tree and enjoyed our sometimes odd literary beverages.

The perfect end to a perfect day.

I’m not sure how I’ll ever be happy staying in a non-library hotel ever again. Forever spoiled. Thanks, daughter and husband for the best birthday ever. I have a feeling this trip might end up on the page of a book someday, in one form or another, like all my favorite people and experiences do…