Libraries Tell A Story

Contemporary Manchester University Library

                      “A library? Not a luxury, but one of the necessities of Life.”  Henry Ward Beecher. 

               " I always imagined Paradise will be some kind of library.”   Jorge Luis Borges.   

These two quotes do begin to capture the often-reverential attitude many/most bibliophiles have towards the idea of a library. My present thoughts on libraries have been triggered by an item I saw online and this did remind me of one of the useful functions of the Internet; the often-random appearances of an interesting topic to remind the viewer of worlds other than her own.

A fondly-remembered book

As a child, I didn’t start using my local town library until I was attending the local grammar school from 1945; I did not come from a home where the idea of libraries-for-us existed although my mother, a poor working-class woman, venerated books and saved up fastidiously to buy me and my sisters wonderful books for birthdays and Christmases. One present from her with a title something like, ‘The Girls’ Book of Heroines’ and given to me when I was around 7 or 8, was still there in my tiny bedroom when I was 20, familiar and treasured! It was still with me when I lived in Bruges sixty years later, never read, but always there, comforting in its continuity of life and its connectedness to les temps passes.

The Library, Ephesus.

Public access to books is not a new idea. The Romans made scrolls in dry rooms available to patrons of the baths, and there were attempts in the Roman Empire to establish public libraries as early as the first century B.C. However, modern public libraries generally started with philanthropists and wealthy individuals funding private collections specifically accessible to some of the public, later evolving to receive government funding and becoming community hubs. Very early libraries like the one in Coventry in 1601, were often established in schools, and by scholars and clergymen in philanthropic gestures with little expectation of widespread use by the general public.

Chetham's Library, Manchester 1852.

The Museums Act of 1845 allowed for the attachment of free libraries to local museums as seen in places like Canterbury, Warrington and Salford but Commercial Libraries truly emerged in the mid-eighteenth century as booksellers began to rent out extra copies of books to audiences wider than the book-buying population. However, as early as the beginning of the eighteenth century, City Libraries were born and began their lending services, increasingly accessible to members of the public who could read. Sometimes, these were Circulating Libraries, and often a Reading Room was conveniently available. The first major city to set up a free library under the auspices of the 1850 Public Libraries Act, was Manchester. Its first librarian, Edward Edwards, was joined by Charles Dickens and William Thackeray for its opening in 1852. This notable first public library did not just denote a forward-looking council as the decision of the local council had to be backed by most of the local population in a statutory local referendum, a poll. In the case of Manchester, the citizens’ vote was 3,962 to 40 in favour of adoption! But reassuringly, public subscription had already raised £13,000 for a public library in the city before the referendum took place. Meanwhile, a public meeting in Birmingham rejected the creation of a similar library by a large majority while in Sheffield only 3 percent of the citizenry could be bothered to turn out to make a similar refusal!

The 1850 Public Libraries Act allowed only a halfpenny of tax to run the library when established, which was, unsurprisingly, insufficient; councils were also denied the capacity to buy the books, it being assumed that donations would furnish the necessary volumes. This impossible state was soon reformed in 1855 with a law which reduced the population number [set at 10,000 people or more who could qualify to have a public library]; increased the maximum tax to a penny in the pound and gave councils the ability to buy books. By the following year [1856] eleven boroughs had set up public libraries. This positive state was somewhat leavened by the substantial number of rejections and in the second half of the nineteenth century, towns and cities across the U.K. witnessed vigorous campaigns over whether to establish a municipal lending library. Many places only gained libraries after several years of public disagreement, dispute and multiple polls. Opposition to public libraries chiefly came from those against increased taxation, which was naturally the majority; in 1881, in Edinburgh, men paraded through the streets with sandwich boards urging people to resist ‘this free library dodge and save yourselves from the burden of £6000 additional taxation.’  Poorer ratepayers often resented what they saw as middle-class institutions and in the 1880s, first the philosopher, Herbert Spencer, followed by the Liberty and Property Defence League, campaigned against the ‘socialistic’ principles of the library movement. Following a defeat in 1888, the pro-library set pursued their cherished library proposals for two more years before changing minds while the ratepayers of Edinburgh rejected the principle of a City Library twice before the extraordinary billionaire, Andrew Carnegie donated what was then a huge gift of £50,000 and won them round!

Bath's original Circulating Library
and Reading Room

Amusingly, Bath, that most refined of cities, produced an amazing litany of refusals to the City Library idea which in fact became a cause celebre in the city over virtually fifty years of library rejection. Passions were raised and sustained for, despite its notable high society of the wealthy and educated, it did have a large working-class population with a strong tradition of populist radicalism. The first attempt to start a library in Bath, failed in 1852; a second attempt in 1869 caused a large public meeting to reject the proposal, with high emotions  laced with insults, both for and against, on show. A local wealthy colonial administrator offered to fund an entire library in 1875 with the proviso that it would eventually be taken over by the council but in 1877, 1,808 voters rejected this generous offer with 1,644 ratepayers assenting. The tide was perhaps slowly turning! A fourth attempt in 1880 was made, with greater use made than formerly, of public meetings though class antagonisms were also on display; this latest effort was rejected 3857 to 2298 followed, astonishingly, by the refusal of an offer from Carnegie, no less, in 1906! Bath never did vote to favour its own municipal library. Debate was silenced when the embarrassed council alone decided to adopt the newly-passed Public Libraries Act which removed the requirement of a legal poll and a modest, tiny lending library, costing £2,366 opened in one room in the Victoria Art Gallery on 3 July 1924, virtually fifty years after this literary battle had begun.

Andrew Carnegie 1835-1919
By any measure, the hero of the 
Public Lending Library
movement.

Public lending libraries survived the nineteenth century of wars, economic conflict and class antagonism, triumphantly, as the authorities, and the middle class, acknowledged population growth with its increasingly available public education for the masses bringing accompanying higher literacy rates. Additional to these important social and educational developments, there grew the acknowledged desirability of a larger cultural input into intellectually barren lives and the increasing need for informed and literate members of society across all classes.                                     

 

Post Script

Angelo Rocca
Italian humanist, librarian and bishop
1545-1620

The lovely Pope died the other day, and as a happy atheist, I admired him hugely. So, as a passing tribute to a great and humble man, I must make mention of an Augustinian bishop by the name of Angelo Rocca who founded a library back in 1604 in Rome, making it the second oldest library in Italy to open to the public. Before that, only private libraries or convent libraries were accessible to the invited or initiated, but Angelo Rocca donated his own 20,000 manuscripts to the small existing Augustinian library, found a suitable building and provided an annuity for its upkeep. He wanted the library to be open to everyone regardless of their income or social standing and the uniqueness of the institution gave rise to an ever-increasing interest by the general public and its fame spread among scholars worldwide. Over the next centuries, the library collected books and manuscripts on the thoughts of St Augustine and the Augustinian Order and includes today works on the Reformation and the Counter-Reformation with particular reference to Italy.

 

Biblioteca Augustina, Rome.
Founded in 1604.

 

This Might Just Have Been A Perfect Day!

 

The Long View of the Abbey Gardens

Tin van of toffees!

M&S Easter chocolate rabbits 

 I have done nothing exciting today, but it does seem, in retrospect, to have been a ‘just right’ kind of day! Up early to do my interminable face and hair routine before going out around 8.15, to M & S to look for Easter eggs as Russ was calling in the afternoon, en route home from Jo and Dave’s, with Eloise and Nicholas. Amazed to discover there were no large chocolate eggs as normal, or rather, as what I believe to be normal, which probably means, as it used to be. There were NO ‘normal’ chocolate eggs [as fondly remembered] but after dithering, I decided choc rabbit and choc chicken, were fine. Bought a tin van full of toffees for Russ so he did not feel left out and returned home to a coffee and a short read. Ruth, my personal trainer, was due at 10.00 a.m. and her session proved to be possibly even harder work than normal. She is kind, and apt to say,

A glamourised, optimistically enhanced view of 'training'.

"Well done Averil", as I strain to arch back, tighten buttocks/ muscles, lift pelvic floor, etc, and generally follow instructions. Today, we did exercises on the floor, and it was agony to get down and back up though the business while lying on the floor, was O.K. However, despite background encouragement, it WAS hard work, and I am glad Ruth only comes once a week, though her company and kindness are great, and the exercises Do Me Good!

Fun with Father

After recovering and an early lunch and rest, the Pickardettes soon arrived, delightful as ever, with Russ proving himself an excellent father. SO impressed with his fathering, as would Heather have been. I inevitably think of my sister as I try to do a few things for her grandchildren whose growing up she would have enjoyed so much. Reminds me of how sad I am too, that Heather departed too soon; she was not only my sister, but also, my best friend. In the meantime, they were delighted with their chocolate offerings and chatted with me unselfconsciously as ever. Lovely kids. I gave an early birthday card to Eloise and the enclosed book token delighted her; super to have children who love books. While they were here, two new books arrived for me which quite impressed them, and later, I had a cup of tea, and a beginning read about the lives of nine of Picasso’s mistresses. Waiting in the reading wings is The Alienation Effect, all about the transformation brought about by emigres during twentieth century Britain.

A rather rural view of the Cathedral

Around 4.00 I decided that the continuing sun deserved reacquaintance and I went for a short walk [with TWO walking poles!] through the Abbey Gardens and marvelled at the wonderful planting, the insistent and continuing delight of the birdsong and the sunshine dappling through the trees. There was a constant background chorus of children’s voices, calling and laughing, and frankly, a feeling of unbelievable harmony and wholeness around. Almost intoxicating and certainly restorative.

Back home to a well-deserved Duvel and cheese sticks. Still warm enough, at 5.00 o’clock, to have all terrace doors and the kitchen wall, still open to the elements. Surely, my favourite time of year and a reminder to count my blessings! 

Eleventh century dovecote among the Abbey ruins.
A particular favourite.

Oleg Gordievsky, 1938-2025

Oleg Gordievsky
1938-2025

The second recent death of a notable man, as mentioned in my previous blog, was that of Oleg Gordievsky, and the peaceful nature of his passing probably surprised many, including Oleg. He had survived, or avoided, many actual, or planned, attempts on his life, in his role as double agent for Russia and Britain.

A younger Oleg

He came from a privileged background as the son of an officer in the NKVD [the Soviet secret police and forerunner of the KGB] and was an excellent student, learning German at school then studying at the Moscow State Institute of International Relations. During his NKVD training, as well as learning espionage skills, he also really mastered German and in addition learned to speak Danish, Swedish and Norwegian.  On completion of these studies, he joined the Russian foreign service and was posted to East Berlin in August 1961 just before the erection of the Berlin Wall, a development which appalled him and triggered the first stirring of his disillusionment with the Soviet system.

He joined the KGB in 1963 and was posted to the Russian embassy in Copenhagen in 1966, again 

Operation Pimlico 

Oleg and his eventual
autobiography

 becoming outraged at the 1968 Prague Spring when the USSR brutally crushed the uprising in Czechoslovakia. He began sending covert signals to Danish and British intelligence agencies of his willingness to co-operate with them and in 1974 he agreed to pass secrets to MI6. He was posted to Denmark around this time but was quickly returned to Russia after an affair with Leila Alieva, and divorce from Yelena his first wife, both practices frowned upon by the Russians as immoral. During his prolonged ‘home stay’ he learned English and lobbied for a post in London which eventually resulted in the KGB appointing him to London in June 1982. His advancement in rank there was facilitated by MI6 which passed him abundant, relatively low level information to feed back, and organised trumped-up charges against his superiors so that Gordievsky was almost automatically promoted thereby

Aldrich Ames, double agent  who sold
American secrets to Russia and
betrayed Oleg

 gaining access to increasingly sensitive Soviet data. 

In April 1985 he was promoted to KGB station chief in London at the Soviet Embassy, but shortly after his promotion, he was suddenly summoned back to Moscow via a telegram on 16 May, 1985. MI6 allowed him to decide what to do; to return home to possible torture, interrogation or execution if the KGB suspected his betrayal, or remain in Britain under a false name and UK Govt. protection. He chose the former although he did not know that he had indeed, been betrayed in May 1985 by CIA officer, Aldrich Ames. On his return to Russia, he was drugged, interrogated then placed in a non-existent job in the KGB under increasing surveillance, suspected of having become a double agent. Despite the surveillance, Oleg managed 

Russian Embassy in London

to send a covert signal to MI6 to activate ‘Operation Pimlico’ an escape plan in place for many years. He waited on a certain street corner, on a particular weekday at 7.00p.m. carrying a Safeway’s bag as a signal. An MI6 agent walked past, carrying a Harrods bag and eating a Mars bar, and the two made eye contact. This all signalled the immediate activation of the escape/rescue plan. On July 19, 1985, Gordievsky went for his usual morning run but managed to evade his KGB followers and boarded a train to Leningrad thence to Vyborg near the Finnish border. There he was met by British Embassy cars and smuggled in the boot of a car, into Finland from where he was flown to the U.K. via Norway. The Soviet authorities subsequently sentenced him to death in absentia, for treason. Meanwhile, his wife, Leila, daughter of a KGB officer, and unaware of her husband’s defection, was interrogated and detained by the Soviet authorities for six years, the Soviets wrongly presuming she was complicit in her husband’s activities. This put the final touch to the end of his Soviet espionage career.

Oleg Gordievsky and wife 
in happy retirement in Sussex.

The revelation of Gordievsky's spying for Britain and his betrayal of Russia greatly embarrassed the Soviet Union and the KGB, and led to the ending of several careers such as that of Sergei Ivanov, KGB chief in Finland; Victor Babunov, KGB chief of counter intelligence and numerous members of the Leningrad KGB who were responsible for the surveillance of British subjects like Gordievsky, and included several people close to Vladimir Putin, a member of the Leningrad KGB.

Queen Elizabeth conferring Companion
 of the Order of St Michael and St George
on Gordievsky in 2007

In April 2008, it was reported that on November 2 2007 Gordievsky had spent 34 hours unconscious after a poisoning attempt on his life. The poison was Thallium and he believed that the culprit was a UK-based, Russian business associate who had supplied him with pills which he had believed was Xanax, for insomnia. At the time he accused MI6 of forcing Special Branch to drop its early investigations in an attempt to hide news of the poisoning which were only re-opened after the intervention of former MI5 Director, Elizabeth Manningham-Buller. His protection was increased immediately however.

Ten years later, in 2018, Gordievsky's protection was further intensified in the light of the Salisbury Poisonings. Sergei and daughter Yulia, Skripval were the butt of a botched poisoning attempt using Novichok [the Russian poison of choice] in which a policeman was accidentally poisoned and also a woman who had used an abandoned perfume bottle found in the street! Sergei Skripval was a former GRU military spy who had presumably offended someone in Moscow. No one died during this episode but Gordievsky's minders considered it at least as a warning of the potential danger in which he remained.

Gordievsky lived in London for several years finishing his remaining years in Godalming, Surrey. During his retirement, he wrote several books including an autobiography, edited articles in journals, worked in TV and received several honours. He was awarded an Honorary Degree of the Order of St. Michael and St George [CMG] for services to the security of the U.K. in the 2007 Queen's Birthday Honours List and an Honorary Degree of Doctor of Letters by the University of Buckingham in recognition of his outstanding service to the security and safety of the U.K. in 2005. MI6 awarded him a pension of £20,000 a year.

Mikhail Gorbachev
1931-2022

 Two of Gordievsky’s most important contributions in the Cold War were:

 a)  averting a potential nuclear confrontation with the Soviets when they misinterpreted a NATO exercise [Able Archer 83] as a potential first strike and 

 b)   identifying Mikhail Gorbachev as the Soviet heir apparent long before he came to prominence.    Indeed, information obtained by Gordievsky was the first proof for the West of how worried the Soviet leadership had become about a NATO nuclear first strike.