The Dusty Bookish Scene of Gainesville, Florida

by

Mackenzie Patel

After reading an article about the thriving “literary tourism” in Gainesville on BookRiot, I was thrilled because I had personally experienced the fierce bookish cult surrounding the University of Florida. Truthfully, it’s not so much a cult as a collection of grand libraries littered throughout the scenic campus that harbor priceless works of literature. During my first summer at UF, I explored at least five libraries on campus, breathing in the dusty volumes, delighting over novels that hadn’t been checked out for decades, and shamelessly dorking out in the science library when I found Russian mathematical journals. Maybe because it was summer (when a fraction of the over 50,000 students are present), but most of these amazing havens were nearly deserted when I slunk among the endless shelves. According to BookRiot, the University owns over six million print volumes that can be checked out by any student—how remarkable is that!

The first, and arguably most used library on the leafy campus, is Library West, the behemoth of a library crowded with Starbucks, chattering undergraduate students, and six floors of books, films, research articles, and study areas. This bookish sanctuary is stunning, at least to a bibliophile like me that visited its dusty shelves and extensive DVD collection almost three times a week. Although most students come here to study their hours away, their novel collection is impressive as well, with thousands of volumes on sight. My favorite section of the library, which is undoubtedly biased because I’ve only investigated the second floor thoroughly, is the Russian literature area. I was strangely charmed by the tall, metal shelves bursting with the velvety fullness of Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Pushkin, Nabokov, and others. A book detailing the different writing styles of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy beckoned to me sweetly, though I passed it over to read Anna Karenina first. Particular books are extremely easy to locate due to the efficient numbering system and the online catalog that tells the patron exactly what floor/wing their book is sequestered in. I also unabashedly frequented the endless shelves of DVDs this summer. Library West and its hundreds of old and modern films filled the void of Netflix and TV (of which I had neither). The Grand Budapest Hotel, Moonrise Kingdom, Vertigo, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, Citizen Kane…I watched about fifteen films this summer without whipping out a single cent (forgetting, of course, the thousands of dollars I already pay to UF for my education). Also, the sixth floor is strictly for graduate students, which leaves a nugget of intrigue and hidden books to discover when I attend graduate school in four years.

My favorite bookish retreats by far are hidden away in the Smathers Library, a building directly adjacent to the massive Library West, but one that is rarely haunted by unknowing undergraduate students. As the oldest library on campus, this place definitely exudes a gothic vibe that immediately transports me to Florida in the 1800s. Soaring wooden beams the color of molasses, clerestory windows with accented tracery, 1920s-esque reading lamps that illuminate marble tables, and rare research documents that require fancy gloves to handle make up the Grand Reading Room on the second floor. Officially titled the Special & Area Studies Collections, this beautiful area is soaked in the most natural and warm lighting during the afternoon and early evening. I would take Anna Karenina with me, stake a claim at one of the fancily upholstered chairs, and become completely engrossed in Vronsky and Karenin while adults doing actual research bustled around me. The Smathers Library also houses the Latin American, Caribbean, map, and imagery collections that are no less interesting—I once spent quite a few minutes engrossed in building records of the Panama Canal in the Latin Library!

As you can probably guess, my obsession with art, music, architecture, and anything involving an outburst of creativity, led me to seek out the Architecture and Fine Arts Library on the University’s campus. Tucked away on the second floor of Fine Arts Building A, this small space is stuffed with old music books, newer biographies of composers and artists, and numerous antique volumes on art history. I haven’t probed this library fully, but so many bound sheets of crackly paper are just waiting for my fingers to caress and my brain to absorb. Besides the books, this library has the most badass study area on campus—with second floor cubbies that resemble an educational rocket ship, I’m just dying to study Baroque art, classical musicians, and the whimsical works of Gaudi. While trying to train my fingers to embrace the flute, I checked out many how-to books from here, as well as a guide to the prolific works of Tchaikovsky. Although the shelves faintly reek of must and stardust, the small books crammed with browning sheets of music are authentically beautiful.

 

I’m not majoring in science or anything remotely related to that analytical field (I’m in accounting), but I still find the Marston Science Library a pure and stimulating delight. Named after the seventh president of the University of Florida and constructed out of “ivy league” brick in 1987, this multi-floor complex is absolutely staggering. Their collection of books relating to agriculture, engineering, biology, and the life sciences in general is so 1970s-esque that it’s hard to convey with static words: Volumes upon thick volumes dedicated solely to pork, dairy, cheese, and agricultural practices. Stacks of Russian and Chinese mathematical journals from the 1980s. Applied physics imported from the European Union and discussions of geothermal energy in the United States. Besides harboring intense and unusually interesting subjects, the spines of these reference books burst with loud pops of brilliant red, calming blue, mossy green, and mustard yellow. Most of these beauties are not regularly checked out by the students and are coated with a delicate film of dust, but I am determined to check out the Duke Mathematical Journal once during my four years. Most students flock here because of the abundant white boards and convenient study rooms, but it is the allure of these nuggets of bright knowledge that draws me to the quiet shelves. Also, do not miss the yellow mammoth nicknamed “The Fries” lounging on the courtyard outside the library….

BookRiot was quite right when they stated that Gainesville was a mecca for literary tourism—the libraries of the University of Florida alone trump any old Barnes and Noble or Borders (*moment of silence for Borders*) bookstore. If I had to recommend one library to visit on this 1853 campus, the stunning Special & Area Studies Collections would win the gold medal. Find out more about the George A. Smathers libraries here.