Patience and Fortitude: Power, Real Estate, and the Fight to Save a Public Library

by Scott Sherman

A riveting investigation of a beloved library caught in the crosshairs of real estate, power, and the people’s interests—by the reporter who broke the story
 
In a series of cover stories for The Nation magazine, journalist Scott Sherman uncovered the ways in which Wall Street logic almost took down one of New York City’s most beloved and iconic the New York Public Library.

In the years preceding the 2008 financial crisis, the library’s leaders forged an audacious plan to sell off multiple branch libraries, mutilate a historic building, and send millions of books to a storage facility in New Jersey. Scholars, researchers, and readers would be out of luck, but real estate developers and New York’s Mayor Bloomberg would get what they wanted.

But when the story broke, the people fought back, as famous writers, professors, and citizens’ groups came together to defend a national treasure.

Rich with revealing interviews with key figures, Patience and Fortitude is at once a hugely readable history of the library’s secret plans, and a stirring account of a rare triumph against the forces of money and power.

Genres: Nonfiction, Books About Books, History, New York, Business, Librarianship, Library Science

205 pages, Hardcover

First published June 23, 2015

Reviews

[Patricia · Rating 4 out of 5]

A bittersweet story - an ill conceived plan to restructure NYPL library service is finally brought into the light and stalled, but not before the historic stacks of the 42nd St. NYPL building were emptied of their 3 million books, some of which seem to be missing and the rest requiring days to return from offsite storage to the library for viewing. This book gave me a lot to think about concerning issues of print vs. digital (why can't we treasure both?), what goes into scholarly research, the ethics of selling land and treasures that were given to an institution, and more.

I am fortunate to be working in a Central Library building that first opened in 1898 and remains functional today. I will now be looking up many articles and blog posts cited in the book for further inspiration and information and the Internet has made that possible for me to do that from home. But I also treasure printed materials which retain a sense of the time of their creation (think of magazines and newspapers and their articles, ads and images, as well as what kind of paper and ink used tells you about the history of that period) and printed materials cannot be altered by a hacker or an errant keystroke as digital documents can. I will leave you with a quote from scholar and author Caleb Crain, found on page 100 of this book:

"What if it turns out that the e-book is a great invention for reading as a consumer, but not much use for reading as a scholar? What if it turns out that it's simply not possible to apprehend a book in electronic form the way it can be apprehended in print form? I know that whenever I try to imagine reproducing my scholarly methods electronically, I halt at the problem of how to reproduce digitally the phenomenon of having a dozen physical books open to different pages at once on my work table. In the future, will I need to buy a dozen iPads? Why not wait to reconceive the library until we know a little more about how scholars will use books and e-books in the digital age?"

[natalie · Rating 2 out of 5]

I read this book because my father-in-law asked me whatever happened to the Central Library renovation plans and I couldn't remember. I read a few articles but didn't think I was getting the full story. It was a mistake to read this book for the full story because it's one-sided and boring and filled with lists of names that I have no need to know. Maybe the author wrote the book to give himself and the library "Defenders" and "Lovers" their credit and to make sure we had the names of all the evil Trustees and library leaders.

As a librarian of 25 years (formerly NYPL, currently BPL), I have my opinions. I thought for certain I would be sympathetic to the author but I found myself disliking him and especially the "Defenders" because they seem so caught up in the past. I wonder how long it has been since these people have done research at the Library. Too many research examples in the book were from 50 years ago.

Yes, we needed a better plan for the Lions building. Instead of spending so much energy destroying the CLP, we should have been working to make it better. Was all this fuss really about the "stacks"? When I first heard about the plan, yes, I was concerned about how long it would take for books to arrive from NJ. But I was won over by the claim that more librarians would be hired and that the beautiful building would be opened up for all people to experience.

Maybe someone should ask the librarians how the Lions building (and MML, soon to include SIBL) should function. The author was gleeful about losing gobs of money from the city and disgusted by real estate deals. Do you know how degrading it is to constantly beg people for money in order keep our jobs? To work in buildings that are dumps and sometimes dangerous? Proving our worth every time some new bit of technology is introduced? Every year of my career has been about change. Librarians deal with it. We know the mission of the Library, we know what people are looking for, and how we can and can't help them.

As you can tell, this book frustrated me!

[Steve Solnick · Rating 4 out of 5]

A compelling account of a grand plan gone bad. The author writes well, but the book suffers from the one-sidedness of the telling. The merits of the library renovation plan are never elaborated - in fact, the critics of the plan are cited and their critiques are presented in great detail while the supporters of the plan are invoked but never given voice. I rarely say this, but the book would have been better if it was longer - more able to explore the real debate over the role of libraries in the 21st century and beyond, better positioned to provide some nuance to the populist vs elitist dimension that hovers vaguely over the narrative. In the end, the renovation plan is really presented as a wholly misguided real estate scheme; this caricature does a disservice to those who felt it also represented an opportunity to restore the library's social mission. In the end, reads like an extended Nation article - a very good one, but far short of definitive.

[Ben · Rating 4 out of 5]

Scott Sherman's book is a front-lines account of public activism in support of an iconic cultural institution, and a reminder that organizational leaders with a mission to serve the public should always take due care to fully consult and engage the public before making sweeping changes.

[Phyllis · Rating 3 out of 5]

Scott Sherman's passionate interview on Fresh Air compelled me to pick up this book; for that reason alone, I encourage readers to listen to the interview as a companion piece. I've been interested in the history of both libraries and books for years, so the history of the New York Public Library (currently the fourth largest library in the world) and the recent rollercoaster ride to change the main branch on 42nd street were not a tough sell.

As the CFO of one of the smallest colleges in the U.S., I was particularly interested in the financial ups and mostly downs of the NYPL since its founding, but was still impressed that the library functioned with a relatively small endowment given its size and complexity. The balancing act of selling off or holding valuable assets while maintaining (never mind improving) services can be tremendously difficult and may seem barbaric to outsiders. Perhaps, the "small" endowment is one of the things that crippled the library system, although it isn't clear that there were opportunities to significantly increase it during the first 50 years of so of operation, which would theoretically have created a massive endowment today.

However, the NYPL's managment made a number of clear missteps with the plan to "democratize" the main branch by moving it's over 3 million item collection to Princeton, blowing over $18 million in the process. Having experienced both the lack of quality consultancy and bloated price tag of McKinsey and Booz Allen during my corporate days, as well as having worked in companies where upper management was paid tremendous salaries and lower levels were told to watch out with buying office supplies, I felt nearly nauseous to hear the NYPL follow that path as one of the great research libraries. Also, the inability to either monetize assets like the custodian's apartments in several of the branch libraries or use them for public good made no sense.

The struggle between going digital and maintaining physical inventory was also interesting. Disclaimer: for over 15 years, I worked at three separate educational publishing companies, so this paragraph contains strong, personal opinions. In 1999, a consultant expensively claimed that 2000 would be the year of the eBook! It wasn't. The last company I worked for insisted that digital was a superior learning method (vs. standard textbooks and classrooms), but efficacy studies have not proven that argument (some studies provided evidence to the contrary!). Particularly for reference books, digitizing is rather dangerous. How long will that file be accessible and by whom given the proliferation of eReaders? Will the physical copy of the material be maintained in the event that the digital file is lost, corrupted, or inaccessible? Frankly, eReaders are not democratic and don't provide those at the lowest income levels of our society with resources. Publishers generally believe there is more money to be made with eBook subscriptions on their device than with print texts.

Although the book would be even more interesting if we could hear directly from the NYPL's board and executive staff, the author tries to present their point of view with excerpts from public meetings and interviews, although there is clear bias in that presentation. He makes it clear that he was not granted interviews or provided information under the Freedom of Information Act, so at least, attempts were made. Also, I would have enjoyed a few diagrams of the NYPL's interior to show the how the stacks were integral support to the Rose Reading Room, as well as pictures of the key players. Overall, the book was well-written and I look forward to more from Mr. Sherman.

[Marlene · Rating 4 out of 5]

Originally published at Reading Reality

The iconic lions that welcome readers to the entrance of the New York Public Library’s Central Library are named “Patience” and “Fortitude”. This made me wonder about the names of the two equally iconic lions that guard the entrance to the Art Institute of Chicago. Those two don’t have official names, but their unofficial titles are “stands in an attitude of defiance” and “on the prowl”. The difference in names may describe the difference between New York and Chicago, right there.

But the patience and fortitude in this book about the New York Public Library and its most recent step into controversy may be better attributed to those who campaigned against what looks remarkably like a real-estate boondoggle, at least from the outside looking in.

There’s plenty of story here. It begins with the very origins of NYPL, and its rather strange and certainly unique financing. In spite of the name, NYPL was never a public library in the way that most of us think of one. It is not a department of the city of New York, and is not owned or managed by the city. Nor is it an independent taxing district as many libraries are in the Midwest (and probably elsewhere)

Instead, NYPL is a private non-profit entity that owns the buildings of the library, while the city provides funds for personnel and other services – funds which are then administered by the private non-profit. To add to the confusion, the research function of NYPL was never intended to be supported by taxpayer dollars. The intent was for the research library to be supported by donations.

So there are two effectively competing agencies housed uneasily under one administrative roof, while everyone hopes that someone else will pay the bills. A plan which never works, but does provide at least some of the genesis for the mess that NYPL found itself in from 2007 until 2014.

The plan was to sell both the Donnell Library and the Mid-Manhattan Library, and to gut the Central Library’s book stacks, then combine all the services into the single remaining building at Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street. While the Donnell Library building was sold, the great recession intervened before any more damage could be done.

As the text makes pretty clear, it’s not that there wasn’t a financial crisis that needed to be solved, it’s that in the end, no one except the consultants and their staunchest supporters believed that the solution being proposed would actually solve anything at all. Those in opposition were convinced, and it looks like correctly, that the plan would cause structural damage to the Central Library building, further erode services both to the public and to researchers, and would not actually generate the income necessary to sustain the library. It didn’t help their cause that the claims of damage and rot to the structure of those incredible book stacks seemed overblown, and that no less drastic solutions were even considered.

In the end, it all looked like a grand shell game being played with other people’s money. In this case, NYPL’s money. It also looked increasingly to outsiders that even though no one involved from the library’s side did anything illegal, or made any money under the table, that there was more than a whiff of sweetheart dealing in the way that the properties were going to be, or in the case of the Donnell Library actually were, disposed of.

And no one anywhere should ever believe any consultant on a major building project who claims that there can’t possibly be any cost overruns. There almost inevitably are cost overruns, and the less you expect them, the more ruinous they are.

Reality Rating B+: Before I discuss the gist of this story, I need to insert a caveat or three. I am a librarian, and while I never worked at NYPL, I did work at two of the other city libraries named in the text, Chicago and Seattle. I also served in a middle-management position, not just at CPL and SPL, but also at several middle-sized public libraries, which gave me the opportunity to observe library board meetings on a regular basis, and interact with the boards of trustees at some of those institutions. What I am saying is that I know something about how the sausage is made, and can see similarities to situations I worked in fairly clearly.

So reading this book felt a bit like insider baseball. Some of the people involved were nationally recognized it the profession. And the situations they got themselves into had the ring of familiarity.

The financial situation at NYPL was never very stable. As a librarian, it was considered a great place to have on your resume, but a lousy place to actually work because NYPL did not pay a living wage for the city of New York. Reading the introductory chapters of this book makes it pretty clear why the finances were so precarious.

One of the things that I found amazing was the way that the powers that be at NYPL during this era used their unique situation to suit themselves. They went to the city hat in hand to beg for money for this project, while at the same time frequently ignoring Freedom of Information Act Requests and even demands from the press or the State Legislature for information, and they did it with impunity as a “private non-profit”.

The main part of this saga begins in 2007. This was just before the great recession dropped the bottom out of the real estate market pretty much everywhere. It was also the point where the Google Books project to digitize the collections of great research libraries, including NYPL, was in full swing – and before it ran afoul of the copyright laws in court. Some pundits on the bleeding edge were predicting that libraries would either be all digital or completely obsolete in a relatively short time. Basing the building design on a premise that hadn’t yet been proven looks foolhardy in retrospect. Especially when combined with the notion that “everything will be digitized” when the volume of “everything” that existed prior to the ubiquity of computers is much too high a volume to be digitized within the lifetime of anyone now living.

There has also been a longstanding shift in the library profession to a “give ‘em what they want” mentality. The other side of that coin is when “they” stop wanting something, it’s time to throw it out to make way for something new that “they” will want. This works fairly well in most public libraries, and is an absolute necessity because real estate and shelf space are generally expensive and always finite. But in a research library like the NYPL Central, the intention is to keep a broad and deep collection because we don’t know what some researcher will want 5 or 10 or 50 years from now. But we know that if we don’t preserve it, it won’t exist for that researcher to find.

And then there was the issue at NYPL that the steel book stacks are physically supporting the Rose Reading Room on the top floor. Take out the book stacks and the top floor becomes the bottom floor with a sudden and resounding crash. While there were designs to account for this, none of them seemed as sturdy, robust or even as beautiful and simply functional as the existing stacks.

Part of the plan was that the 3 million volumes housed in those stacks be relocated to off-site storage in New Jersey for better preservation. There was a frequently articulated promise that books would be made available within 24 hours. The problem with this part of the plan was that patrons already had plenty of experience with off-site storage, and 24 hours was known to be a laughable dream. Three or four days was considered an achievable dream, but a week was not unheard of.

As part of this phase of the plan, the powers that be conducted a stealth removal of the books in the stacks, sending them to off-site storage and to private warehouses. The stacks are now echoingly empty, even though the grand plan is dead, and some of the books are completely inaccessible. Others were lost in transition.

There have been any number of libraries and library directors who have found themselves in the midst of hurricanes of controversy over plans to vastly eliminate or move the collections of their libraries. One of the more infamous cases occurred at the San Francisco Public Library in the mid 1990s (see Nicholson Baker’s scathing book, Double Fold, for an example of just how acid the vitriol became). There are more recent stories from the Urbana Free Library in Illinois and the Berkeley Public Library in California. Every librarian knows that massively weeding or otherwise removing the collection is one of the fastest ways to generate negative publicity that libraries can fall into. But the librarians seem to have been left out of the decision-making loop in all of the planning for this great plan.

The NYPL Central Library, with its enduring and patient lions, is a living symbol of the city. It is also a storied place of history, where many scholars and writers did their research and composed some of their greatest work. It’s also a place that, in spite of its often shaky finances, fulfilled every library’s purpose of being the “People’s University” with its doors and its collections open to any researcher or reader who visited its hallowed halls. There were too many people, both famous and forgotten, who loved that building and the purpose it served.

The real estate moguls never had a chance. Just this once, the pen was mightier than the pocketbook. But it was still one hell of a fight.

[Mallory Nygard · Rating 3 out of 5]

A quick read about the dangers of corporatizing a library

[J. · Rating 2 out of 5]

Fairly disappointing. This didn't add much to the reporting Sherman had already done, and failed to pursue any of the deeper issues he's alluded to. I hoped for some serious thought and unpacking of issues around public and private accountability, the risks and rewards of grass-roots activism, or (a remote hope, I grant you) some examination of the way the working library diverges from the library of sentimental imagination.

Instead, Sherman seems to say that after decades of neglect by the city, the NYPL should be ashamed of having gotten city backing for a major capital project. And, having suggested that NYPL's major successes have historically emerged from a combination of innovative leadership backed by the philanthropic largess of the very wealthiest, Sherman goes on to suggest that the NYPL should be ashamed of its present-day leadership partnering with wealthy philanthropists to do something innovative. The book seems to eat its own tail and left me wanting some more substantial interrogation of the claims and counter-claims on both sides.

[D · Rating 5 out of 5]

Patience and Fortitude are the names for the marble lions that stand guard at the entrance of the New York Public Library's main branch. These qualities are needed to demonstrate to the "powers that be" that the trustees' plan to gut its iconic main branch would cost New York City more than just $150 million. There are many heroes in this story, but my favorite is 91-year-old Ada Louise Huxtable, the first full-time architecture critic for an American newspaper, and the first to point out that the steel stacks stamped "Carnegie" do more than hold books; they are literally structural support. An important story masterfully told.

[Edward Sullivan · Rating 5 out of 5]

As someone who worked for NYPL in the 90s, I cannot begin to describe how painfully depressing it is to read this superbly reported account of the abominable leadership that has denigrated this great institution. It is heartening at least to read about the many activists who organized to make the people in charge be more accountable for their atrocious decisions.

[Lynne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Succinct timeline of an expensive proposal to "remodel" the NYPL on 42nd...shortsighted plans, lack of public (or any other) input...money talked, but academia was not allowed to do the same...various people headed up protests, wrote articles, and generally let their disgust at this nearsighted proposal to gut the research collection.

[Sue Bottino · Rating 2 out of 5]

Oh my goodness, what a boring book! The author just related fact after fact, dropping hundreds of names along with way, with very little context. If you're looking for a timeline, this is your book. But if you want to read an interesting story, highlighting the struggle of public institutions, private funding, the public good, and development, this is not compelling reading at all.

[Rory · Rating 2 out of 5]

Labored reporting that does no credit to the intense battle that went on for the soul of the New York Public Library. Good for those who love to read a long list of each participant's credentials before getting to the actual matter.

[N. N. Santiago · Rating 3 out of 5]

Unnuanced, good guys/bad guys account of the movement to prevent the redevelopment of the interior of the New York Public Library.

[Adam · Rating 3 out of 5]

There are few aspects of American life that are truly and inarguably democratic. The ability to cast a ballot and directly elect representatives--an act held up as the embodiment of democratic ideals, often by those very same representatives--is available only to a select portion of the population based on age, citizenship, criminal record and, in states that have adopted voter ID laws, the ability to pay for and receive a wholly unnecessary form of identification. Similarly, the ability of anyone--again, of a certain age, citizenship, and criminal record--to run for and hold public office has been undermined in recent years by the advent of Citizens United, the unencumbered growth of super-PACs, and the gerrymandering of districts into those that are "safe" for incumbent politicians and their respective political parties.* What's more, the various freedoms outlined in the Bill of Rights, a document that by its very nature and origins should make our nation unique in its democratic strength, are often undermined by the ideological impulses of those tasked with interpreting them--namely, the nine members of the Supreme Court, as well as the thousands of judges occupying state and federal benches. In every respect, we are a country that cherishes its freedoms, often vocally and in contrast to other nations, while simultaneously refusing to understand just how limited those freedoms are.

In fact, the two most truly democratic institutions in the United States are, with few exceptions, free and accessible to everyone. And yet they are so omnipresent in our lives that most Americans take them for granted, often while using them. The first is our parks system. From small municipal lots that encompass little more than a city block to national antiquities that stretch for hundreds of thousands of protected acres, American parks are open to anyone at any time of year, regardless of age, ethnicity, religious practices, wealth, citizenship, or criminal record. When you hike in the shadow of the Half Dome in Yosemite, peer over the edge of the Grand Canyon, watch the sun rise over the Great Smoky Mountains, or marvel at the frozen cliffs and caves of the Apostle Islands in winter, you may being doing so beside an immigrant from Central America, a Mormon preacher, a five-year-old child, a great-grandmother, a father on food stamps, or the CEO of a large company. American parks are a great equalizer in American life, requiring nothing of its visitors except a desire to see nature as it should be.

The other is the public library, an idea older than the nation itself, and one that was nurtured by many of the Founding Fathers, who believed it integral to the strength of a free and prosperous nation.** Today, there are more than 17,000 public libraries available throughout the country, and they grant each and every visitor access to the very same resources, regardless of background or identity. They are fixtures in their communities, often providing resources to those who would otherwise go without.

Over the past decade, however, the question has been raised as to what role the public library should play in the era of ebooks, digital subscriptions, and online databases...or whether it can even adapt at all. (The reference librarian, for example, now competes against search engines and apps, the card catalog and shelves of reference materials no match for the power of a few bytes of data delivered at the press of a button.) If people can access these resources at home (the argument goes), what is the purpose of preserving such large and expensive buildings? Why devote so much of our tax dollars to keeping alive an institution that, as storied as it may be, seems incapable of keeping up with changes in our culture and society...an institution that is being rapidly supplanted by phones and computers?

The problem with these questions is twofold. First, the assumption that a rise in digital content correlates to a drop in library patronage is not supported by the facts. In 2009, for example, American public libraries "welcomed more than 1.59 billion visitors...and lent books 2.4 billion times--more than 8 times for each citizen." And while public libraries have seen a decrease in the number of patrons who walk through their doors over the last few decades, those who decry their downfall are doing so prematurely: as the numbers attest, American public libraries are never empty of people.

Secondly, these arguments assume that digitized content is just as readily accessible to Americans as the public library, when in fact that is also not the case. A large swathe of the population doesn't have easy access to the internet in their own homes, including the elderly, the unemployed, and those living in impoverished neighborhoods. To them, public libraries address needs that cannot be met. As the Pew Research Center noted last year, library patrons do more than just browse books or surf the internet; they also research information about health care, search for jobs, study for work or school, attend trainings, go to class, and give their children access to books and reading groups--a major benefit to childhood literacy, especially in areas where daycare and summer school programs are unavailable or unaffordable.

And how much does this cost each American taxpayer? According to the research, forty-two dollars. In contrast, a 2012 report found that the average American household spent more than $800 on soft drinks. There are other numbers that could be cited, of course, but none of them in any way diminishes the reality that this institution is entirely affordable.

What is to be done, then, about the public library? It provides necessary services to communities across the country, but it's status as a public institution means it is constantly in need of money. In Patience and Fortitude, Scott Sherman examines one of the largest library systems in the nation, the New York City Public Library (NYPL), and its long, controversial struggle with declining patronage, as well as its financial setbacks, the changing needs of its surrounding neighborhoods, and the unique role it has played as a repository for one-of-a-kind historical documents and research materials. The system, which is overseen by both a director and board of trustees, was scheduled to undergo major changes to a handful of its locations, including the magisterial 42nd Street building, where more than three millions books were housed.*** The redesign called for stacks to be gutted, books to be warehoused across state lines, buildings to be razed and rebuilt--in one case, as the first floor of a luxury apartment building--and the system's focus to shift from library services to technology, despite the fact that millions of patrons still used the libraries for basic research. The plan also required hundreds of millions of dollars in taxpayer money, some of which would be spent on a design by architect Norman Foster--money that, as Sherman notes, could have been better spent paying for upgrades to existing locations. (In one of the book's most startling scenes, the NYPL system's director is shown an upstairs room in one of these locations. Originally intended for the library's live-in custodian, the large room has remained in the same cobwebbed state for decades--space that could easily be refurbished for use by the staff and patrons, and at very little cost. The director, already aware of this extra space, is unmoved by the idea, and the rooms remain unused.)

Sherman portrays the director and trustees as not only oblivious to the services provided by the city's public libraries--their outreach to immigrants, for example, or their legacy of preserving historical documents for writers and researchers, many of whom would later become famous and use their status to advocate against the proposed changes--but also blinded by greed. They view the system as a potential business--that is, as a way to raise money rather than as a service to the public. Often, when discussing the planned changes, they speak in terms of land value, the growing real estate market, and non-performing assets...terms that would otherwise be incongruous in a discussion about sustaining public libraries. When pressed about their true intentions, the trustees shield themselves behind privacy laws that govern their meetings--a deep irony considering the fact that libraries embody transparency, openness, and the unrestrained sharing of knowledge. (In fact, almost all of those involved in the planned changes declined to speak with Sherman, or even acknowledge his interview requests.)

This one fight, seemingly consigned to a single system, represents the struggle libraries have faced for years: meeting the needs of their community while straining under the directives of those who rarely if ever set foot inside. Most American libraries are overseen by boards who have the institution's best interests at heart; unfortunately, most library funding comes not from boards or patrons but politicians, who decide how much revenue will be designated for public libraries in any given year. As Sherman argues, those who set out to purposely defund libraries do so in the hopes of making information less available to the public, and a less-informed public is one that is less politically engaged and easier to manipulate. (The prevalence of the internet assuages some of this; unfortunately, as noted above, those who suffer the worst from ideological budget cuts--the poor and elderly, students, and those living in ignored neighborhoods--are also the least likely to have easy access to the internet.)

We live in an era in which the phrase "government spending" is used with disdain, often by the very same men and women who belong to the government or wish to hold its highest office. They decry the use of taxpayer money on "entitlement programs" they deem ineffective, undemocratic, and wasteful. What they refuse to acknowledge or understand, however, is that the purpose behind taxes is to provide everyone with the same rights, services, and opportunities, regardless of who they are or where they live. This includes the right to be safe and secure in your own home, the opportunity to attend school and travel safely on well-maintained roads, protections against unexpected illnesses, economic downturns, disability, hunger, and so on. It also includes the ability to walk into a building and learn anything you want by simply picking up a book, paging through a magazine, or logging onto a computer. Certain aspects of our society require us to give up some of our money without expecting any in return; instead, we're given something else, something far more valuable than the coins in our pocket, and that is certainly worth keeping around for as long as we can.



*Granted, the history of elections in the United States is one fraught with continual problems, including rampant disenfranchisement, back-room dealmaking, the impenetrable control of party bosses, the electoral college, and so on. That being said, until the Supreme Court's ruling in Citizens United, the presidential elections of the previous four decades can reasonably be seen as the closest we've come to purely democratic elections...though they were still far from ideal.

**Perhaps the greatest example of this is Thomas Jefferson's 1815 sale of his entire private library, undoubtedly the greatest in any colony, to the young nation. Once purchased, the thousands of volumes in his collection became a precursor to the Library of Congress, which today holds almost 24 million books.

***I say "were" rather than "are" because the books were eventually moved to a warehouse in New Jersey, where they remain to this day.


This review was originally published at There Will Be Books Galore.

[Jan Lynch · Rating 3 out of 5]

When visiting any new city or town, my first action is to wander without map or directions and locate libraries. Libraries represent the best aspirations of civilization: inclusiveness, expansiveness, enlightenment, democracy, and intellectual freedom. Often the buildings are beautiful historic landmarks. Like features of nature--mountains, rivers, forests, canyons--a library is an awesome force. In the presence of books, I feel soothed and centered. Something about all that humanity, all those voices, all that knowledge, catalogued and shelved, organized and ready for review--surrounded by books, I feel both small and large, inconsequential but part of something infinite.

To balance myself against unsettling current events, I'm prioritizing what gives me joy. Hence, much of my current reading has been meta-reading, reading about books, and this book fit that bill. Patience and Fortitude takes its title from the names of the lions that guard the New York City's famous Fifth Avenue library. In contrast to elite university libraries or even the Library of Congress, anyone may access the research materials at the New York City Library, making it a potent symbol of democracy. But prior to 2008, the trustees of the library system created a Central Library Plan (CLP) that would have effectively shut down the research arm of the library. Treating the library more as a business than as a research institution, the number of people using the library was measured, as well as the number of times resources were consulted, with the idea being that more would be better. Accordingly, the CLP called for offloading the stacks of the Fifth Avenue library to New Jersey, dismantling historic structures, selling off historic collections and art, and closing reading rooms within the library. In addition, the plan called for closing a number of beloved branches within the New York City Public Library system.

As a library lover and one who values historical structures, the Central Library Plan seems like desecration on so many levels. The story of how many people collaborated to preserve the library for the future is inspiring. Scott Sherman's writing is clear and concise. Still, the story of the Central Library Plan was not my favorite part of the narrative. To be honest, I best liked the first part of the book, the history of the New York City Public Library system. I enjoyed the narrative of how the library system began and the many stories of the people who built the library, worked within the library, and benefited from the library.

The book has me thinking about the measure of a library's worth. Are libraries that have the most foot traffic the most successful? What about a library's holdings? Should items that are rarely checked out be discarded? Shermon quotes Michael Kimmelman of the New York Times: "Museums and libraries are not commercial enterprises. Growth is not necessarily good. Expansion is not always wise. Often it's the reverse. True success is measured by hard-to-quantify intangibles: the quality of research and education; the study, care and maintenance of the collections; the level of public trust." I feel as though there is an ongoing tension between updating a library to be sure that it is serving its community and between preserving a community's unique identity--as libraries are often entrusted with this role--through maintaining historic architecture and whatever unique collections and art the library may hold. Balance is essential. If a library doesn't serve the community, no one will appreciate the role as preserver of culture. But if a library abandons that role, a community is in danger of moving forward without context, something I worry about when I hear about banned books and history being taught as so much hagiography.

[Theresa Jehlik · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sherman explores the New York Public Library's chronic lack of funding which came to a crisis in 2008 with the Central Library Plan being promoted and pushed by its Board of Trustees. While the system's research libraries are a private, non-profit organization, it's branches are city-funded. The research libraries have long been regarded as the only truly public research site in the United States and often thought of as a complement to the Library of Congress. The library has always shored up its finances by selling its cultural assets. After it ran out of famous paintings to sell, it began selling the land it owned to various developers. The trustees then created a secret plan that would sell off multiple library branches, gut the iconic Fifth Avenue library to create community engagement space and coffee shops, and move most of the collection to a warehouse in New Jersey. The public become aware of the plan only after the 2008 recession hobbled the financial plans. After articles in the New York Times and Nation appeared, an illustrious lineup of cultural celebrities started fighting back. This is a David and Goliath story set in a library world.

[RuthAnn · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found this book so fascinating. It's a work of journalism about the New York Public Library and how they wrestled with very difficult questions as they faced pretty dire financial straits in the early 2000s. Should they sell their valuable NYC real estate? Reshuffle their collections for different purposes? Attract big donors that might have opinions about using the funds? Meanwhile, the NYPL was in a swirl of bad PR and the financial crisis. My local library is (hopefully!) undergoing a big building project soon, so these questions about the role of a library, its land use, nonprofit governance, and its relationship with local government all loom large in my mind. I recommend this book to anyone else connected with libraries, commercial real estate, nonprofit boards, and activism. Also, I REALLY want to talk about it, so thanks in advance to anyone who reads this and sends me a message. You know it's really saying something when *I* call something nerdy!

[Chris · Rating 2 out of 5]

This brief book chronicles the early 2010s effort to retain the research book stacks at the New York Public Library's famed 42nd Street location.

The author, Scott Sherman, is blatantly biased against the NYPL trustees and their plan to demolish the multiple floors of stacks, and he dismisses their reasoning that the space could be better used to serve a broader library audience and potentially provide an income source to a long struggling library system. Sherman even notes the subject research books are used less and less in favor of digital copies, but he dismisses the trustees' seemingly reasonable proposal to move the books to a nearby location.

He seems intent to settle scores with anyone associated with the library who slighted him in his "reporting." For example, did he really need to mention NYPL President Anthony Marx' DWI? Avoid this one-sided account.

[Richard H Rubinstein · Rating 4 out of 5]

Public libraries appeal to me as does public education. Many in my family were educated at CCNY and became respected professionals in their fields of expertise. They were able to maximize their minds despite being economically challenged. Libraries also allowed individuals to self educate and are very valuable institutions.

Scott's book explores the modern challenges for the NYPL. What I liked best was his ability to represent issues from both sides. His writing style is comfortable and the read is enjoyable. It is interesting to think about libraries both in an historic and modern perspective.

[Charlie Newman · Rating 4 out of 5]

This form of non-fiction is still not my favorite thing, but this was a compelling read. The main thread seems to be the peril of those who have succeeded in one sector, especially finance/real estate, assuming this success means they know everything about everything. They do not. Not sure if I should put a spoiler alert on this or not, but the satisfying part is that the Good Guys mostly win!!

[Billie Cotterman · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was recommended to me as both a quick history of the NYPL and an insight into how NYC works, and the recommender was correct about both. This is an easy read in that it is well-written and to the point, but it was a hard read in that I had to put it down several times because I was gritting my teeth and giving myself a headache. I highly recommend it.

[Kaya · Rating 5 out of 5]

Meticulously researched, passionately reported, beautifully written chronicle of the struggle to save a public library. We need more books like Patience and Fortitude to remember why we devote our lives to reading and books in the first place: I still remember the part about shoeshines and readers taking refuge during rain. Read this book.

[Katherine Lavelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have wanted to read this book for years (based on Sherman's coverage in the Nation). the NYPL is a great institution and it is sad that there was not more support for the public mission of the library. The book clearly explains the conditions and the effects of lack of investment in public goods for the entire city.

[Melissa · Rating 3 out of 5]

A lot of good information and generally well-written. I was a little put off in the early part of the book because it kept jumping around in time. It went from 1901 to 1911 back to 1901 then to 1929 and back to 1901 again! I like my history in chronological order but once it got to the recent past, it went in order.

[Summer · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was interesting and well-written. I read it for school. I can't imagine the scenario where you'd voluntarily read it unless you were writing a report on the New York Public Library.

[Tania Maradiaga · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very well-written but definitely could have cut many many pages out.

[Rebekah Lawler]

DNF on p. 67

The story is all over the place and there are too many people to keep track of.

[Gene · Rating 3 out of 5]

Concise and interesting report on how well-intentioned people can convince themselves that they know of what the public desires without asking the public what they wish.

[Lauren Carter · Rating 3 out of 5]

More like a who's who in the dismantling of the library system... Not really what I expected but it was an short read.