Caitlin Moran, “Libraries: Cathedrals of Our Souls.”
I found this on our ARC shelf today. From the back flap:
“Minnesota librarian Karen Nash is embarking on a dream trip to London. But she’s clueless when her mid-life lover, Dave, dumps her before take-off—until she spies him at the airport with another honey! She gets on the plane anyway as she fantasizes about her revenge. Arriving in the land of Christie and Sayers, she checks into a B and B run by charming bibliophile Caldwell Perkins. Soon she’s sharing her heartbreak with a stranger at the corner pub. That night a B and B guest drops out of circulation—permanently. Then Karen realizes Dave and his cutie are an assassin’s target. With the honed skills that make her a killer librarian, Karen sleuths her way through her own real-life mystery.”
“When she checks in, someone always checks out….”
The Children’s Librarian
See the Children’s gay Librarian! Oh, what boisterous joys are hers
As she sits upon her whirl-stool, throned amid her worshippers,
Guiding youngsters seeking wisdom through Thought’s misty morning light;
Separating Tom and Billy as they clinch in deadly fight;
Giving lavatory treatment to the little hand that smears
With the soil of crusted strata laid by immemorial years;
Teaching critical acumen to the youngsters munching candy,
To whom books are all two classes — they are either “bum” or “dandy”;
Dealing out to Ruths and Susies, or to Toms and Dicks and Harries,
Books on Indians or Elsie, great big bears, or little fairies.
For the Children’s gay Librarian passes out with equal pains
Books on Indians or Elsie, satisfying hungering brains;
Dealing Indians or Elsie, each according to his need,
Satisfying long, long longings for an intellectual feed.
From The Song of the Library Staff by Sam Walter Foss (1906). Illustrated by Merle Johnson.