Folio is a private library in Seattle, and on Saturday they had a "quiet reading time," allowing plebeians like me inside. It was free, and no speeches or activities were planned — just come in and read.
It's downtown, a flight of stairs up from Pike Place Market, and I'd forgotten that the Market is swarmed with tourists whenever it's sunny out. Well, it was sunny and swarmed. There was only standing and waiting, no walking on the walkway, but I softly shoulder-shoved my way through the throngs and found the stairway up. After a few wrong turns I was at the door to Folio.
Walking in, the first vibe is oak paneling and books, like you've stepped into Montgomery Burns' mansion. And of course, I was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, which is pretty much my wardrobe.
Before I could feel out of place, a lady introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Caroline," and showed me the brief basics of Folio.
It's three rooms with books and bookshelves on every wall, chairs that are sorta swanky but soft, and desks and tables and lamps. "And here's the coffee pot," she said nicely, making me feel like a guest, not an intruder.
Then she left me alone, giving me space to wander the place. I strolled along the shelves, and looked out the window. There's a lovely view of Elliott Bay, and other windows overlook a vibrant interior food court, where several casual restaurants share tables and chairs.
In addition to all the books, there's a table with a chess set. I love chess, but was too shy to ask anyone to play.
There's a newspaper table, with a week's worth of New York Times that have been read but neatly arrayed. I remember enjoying newspapers on paper, in the ancient pre-internet era.
There's a magazine table, with only a few subscriptions, but they're the ones I'd appreciate — The New Yorker, and the London Review of Books, and a few more magazines, but no Golf Digest or Sports Illustrated (and hooray for that).
It was momentarily startling to notice a big-screen TV on one of the walls, but it wasn't on, and there's a podium beside it. The screen is for presentations and author nights, etc, not for watching football or Fox News.
Actually, while nothing seems explicitly political about the place, and I spotted a biography of Condoleezza Rice, I don't think anything at Folio would appeal to the MAGA crowd. For one thing, there are books, and they hate that.
For another, one of Folio's upcoming events is called "The Human Library," and seems utterly mind-blowing. They bring in ten people, all interesting in some way (a pacifist who's married to a soldier, a bank robber who spent two decades in prison, a disabled pole dancer, a busker from the corner, etc), and each of them gives a brief talk at the podium. After that they're each available to be "checked out" like books, for conversations at one of the tables.
What made me go "Huh" is that none of the ten are successful executives or millionaire real estate agents. They're all weirdos like me, like everyone I like, and despite my non-stop introversion I think I'd want to be there that night, and talk with all ten of them.
Surrounded by thousands of books at Folio, I started by reading the New York Times, or trying to. Idiot me, I'd forgotten to bring my glasses, so the reading went slow and left me guessing at the longer words.
Next I surveyed the shelves in all three rooms. Lots of highbrow literature by "the greats" I've mostly never read but always kinda wanted to, with plenty of present-day fiction, too, and biographies of people who deserve one, and poetry, and art, and ooh, graphic novels. Some high-quality time could be passed here, just reading…
In a comfortable chair, I spent an hour with a graphic novel I'd pulled from the shelf, Can't We Talk about Something More Pleasant?, by Roz Chast. The book is great and funny, with lettering big enough to read without my glasses, with a minimum of squinting.
And jeez, it was a wonderful afternoon. Probably I was the poorest person in the facility, that day or maybe ever, but neither the books nor the people seemed to hold my poverty, ratty clothes, or generally dumpy appearance against me.
Saturday was a special event, with Folio open to the general public, so I expected to be pressured to join, but there was none of that either. Caroline was available when I had questions (Where's the restroom?) but she never pounced with a pitch.
A man came in with a cup of coffee, for himself not for me, and he smiled but said nothing as he sat at a table and set up his laptop for quiet click-clicking.
None of the other patrons had anything to say to me either, but it wasn't a rude silence. They'd come to read (or listen; one guy was wearing headphones), not to make chit-chat, and anyway, it's a library.
That's when I belatedly noticed the finest feature of Folio — it's quiet in there. I have never been in any library so quiet, and didn't know libraries so quiet existed. No children stomped or hollered, no teenagers snickered or swore, nobody conversed above a whisper. The only sound was the occasional rustling of pages, the gentle clacking of coffee man's keyboard, and the low hum of air conditioning that dried my sweat despite it being 95° outside.
I slowly walked the premises again, more and more liking what I saw — quiet people in a quiet space. I'd been there less than two hours, and already felt more at home than I feel at home.
There was no way I'd leave Folio without knowing I was coming back, so I approached Caroline a third time, to join as a member.
She answered a few more of my questions, including which of the restaurants at the Market are good but also affordable. She gave me her card, which says she's Executive Director, even though I'd seen her emptying trash and recycling-bins. First time I've seen an executive do real work like that, instead of delegating it.
Membership at Folio is $150 for a year, with no senior discount. For me, that's a lot of money. I'm living on Social Security with little margin for luxuries, but having been there just once, a quiet space in the heart of the city is not a luxury. It's a necessity.
7/22/2024
The link says a day pass is $5, which like Folio seems incredibly wonderful. I assume there's some kind of limit to how many they allow per day so you wouldn't be able to drop in (though based on the location it doesn't sound like that would happen too often?)
ReplyDeletePrivate clubs are on the rise again as income stratification makes it necessary for there to be more symbols of exclusivity separating Them and Us. Doesn't sound like this place is like that at all, though.
I'm the newbie there and might be mistaken, but yeah, it doesn't seem to be about separation. It's separate enough that the homeless aren't sleeping on the sofa, but they do have lots of open-to-everyone events.
DeleteI'm headed back there on Saturday, and looking forward to it.
And after all we're only ordinary men (get on the bus)
Deletejtb
Pink Floyd?
Deletehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LezoMi3yftM
Deletejtb from cardio care
Damn, that's good... the song & performance, not cardio care, but I'm hoping that's good too? Be the drummer, John, but nothing flashy, just a steady rhythm, long term.
DeleteHi, Zeke Krahlin here. We in SF have a private library that sounds like a twin of Folio. It's called the Mechanics Institute, located in a seamy section of downtown. I was a member there for almost two years...and that's where I got my daily dose of Internet since at home I still used dialup. I am no longer a member, since Covid wrecked that, during which time I finally upgraded to broadband.
ReplyDeleteThe library occupied three levels, and also was old fashioned with its stuffy chairs, sofa, spiral staircase and architecture. Membership there is also $150 per annum. They, too, have intriguing events and a snack room where you could bring food and drinks. And a dedicated chess room with its own gatherings and events. Here's there website:
https://www.milibrary.org/
I was aware of the Mechanics Institute when I lived in Frisco, but like Folio, I assumed it was a snoot place and I don't snoot, so I never stopped in. Was it cool? Must've been, or you wouldn't have been a member.
DeleteThey mentioned Mechanics when I signed up for Folio, called it "a sister library," but I think there's only a philosophical connection.
Folio doesn't have a chess club, dang it. Just one chess set on a table, but I've never seen anyone play.
I must tell you one day about the time I played the seventh best player in British Columbia in front of a small audience. It wasn't small enough.
Deletejtb
In chess? Do tell please! I am curious what it's like to play in front of a crowd. I( assume they're not supposed to oooh and aaah and applaud. No cheerleaders?
DeleteI played post card chess 40+ years ago, mail-order tournaments. I was ... meh. I like playing even when I lose.
In the 1990s, I'd have an offsite two day meeting once or twice a year to complete my departments' planning and review the projects we had coming up over the following six months or so. My team typically had about 16 members divided into four sub-teams, and supported corporate computing in Tacoma and computing in remote branches in New York, Toronto, London, Paris, Tokyo, Sydney, Auckland, and several smaller cities in Asia and Europe. At the offsites, we'd plan the software upgrades we intended to complete in the following year. We had meals and snacks brought in and I'd usually invite my manager to spend an hour with us, ostensibly to give us the big picture of the company's direction over the following year, but, in fact, to make sure he understood that this planning exercise was important and that we weren't just screwing around.
DeleteOne of my telecommunications analysts was Canadian, and had competed in the BC chess championship one year in the recent past and had finished seventh. I should have just kept my damn mouth shut, but I wondered aloud how badly he would beat a casual player like me, and pretty soon the game became the first day's lunchtime entertainment. I've forgotten what his rating was -- something around 1900 I think. I wasn't sufficiently experienced to carry the leather case in which he carried his rating card. By the tenth move, he had my knights and bishops hopelessly trapped, and one rook was under siege. I had simply never played a rated player and somehow didn't anticipate how one-sided the game would be. I resigned on something like the 22nd move, but I had extended the game far beyond any chance my pieces had for survival because I had advertised the match to my team and they deserved a match. The didn't exactly get one. But I think I got a couple of points for sportsmanship and public humiliation, and those might have been worth the beating. And the Canadian analyst was a gentleman and explained -- after the slaughter-- what a 1900 player would be expected to do to an unrated player. It was still an embarrassment and I was known as the intellectually disabled Bobby Fischer of Tacoma for a couple of years after. It certainly wasn't much of a demonstration of chess technique.
John
Great story, man. You got your butt kicked, but I bet it was great for team morale at the office!
DeleteBeen years since I've played anyone but the old friend I wrote about once, guy who's become a Republican but we don't talk about it. I win more than I lose, but I'm looking forward to some new opponents, even losing, the chess club at the senior center.
Delete