Friday, 12 October 2007

More Libraries.

The famous 'Library Walk' in between Manchester Central Library and the Town Hall.
Inside the John Rylands Library.
The John Rylands Library main reading room. Yes, it was built as a library and not a Church!
The John Rylands Library from Deansgate.
Reading room at Central Library.
The Portico Members Library.
And that means you lot!
So you are very lucky to have a glimpse into the members quarters!

The medieval Chethams Library.
Reading room at Chethams. Marx sat in the window seat as he wrote Das Kapital. I write my notes there, which are unlikely to have the same impact on worldwide politics!
The 'Priests wing' at Chethams.
The 'Mary' wing at Chethams.
Central Library from the outside.

When I was at school, there was a long corridor on the first floor which housed most of the classrooms and half way down were three doors, quite some distance apart, each one bearing over it the legend 'More Library'. There was not one saying 'Library', so it soon became apparant that, rather than being more of the Library, this was, in fact, a library dedicated to Saint Thomas More. This was even more obvious when one entered and saw a (very fine) statue of the Saint. I feel the same sometimes in Manchester, as I go to libraries and more libraries. I know yesterdays post was centred on libraries as well, but here are some pictures of the libraries I frequent. Most of them are not my own pictures, as photography is banned in these places. We are very lucky in Manchester to have such a wealth of learning at our fingertips and luckier still to have the Portico, where one can have a three course meal served with a bottle of wine while ensconced in one of the corners although the recent smoking ban has put paid to any tobacco based pleasures and snuff has not had the increase in popularity which I had hoped for. I am not much of a smoker anyway, but I imagine that the bottom has dropped out of the Havana market, people will still be able to smoke a cigarette outside, but I cannot imagine popping outside for a quick Hoyo De Monterray Epicure No. 2, which would generally last me an hour, or longer if playing billiards. Time marches on, I suspect, although whether the fuss over smoking is really all justified, I remain dubious about. Not that this Neo Puritan government cares what I think anyway. I wonder if I should exile myself to the colonies?