The British Library An Overlooked London Gem
I can’t speak to when the allure of libraries struck. But for me books themselves are reason alone. Enough, even, to overlook the 70s-era buildings of my hometown, with their grayish yellow carpet and exposed pipe ceilings. Minus a handful of major metropolitan libraries, the USA is no competition for the grandeur many other parts of the world have constructed to house their most beloved manuscripts.
With an hour to spare before his flight home to Berlin, I dragged my friend with me to the British Library near St Pancras Station. He protested, insisting that he’d seen enough libraries. His mother worked as a librarian in the south of France for 40 years, which meant free childcare in a hands-off sense. I gave his pre-judgment on the librarial contributions of other countries a pass.
From the outside, the British Library doesn’t appear particularly special. It’s a relatively new building. Gifted by Queen Elizabeth II in 1999, the facade is not half as imposing as the nearby St Pancras Renaissance Hotel (which, wow by the way).
Still, low-risk, high-reward! The library is free for the public to enter, filled with studious university students, a mysterious Alan Turing Institute on the upper level, and glass cases full of historical manuscripts. There’s also a café in the back — a likely source for the slightly sweet and burnt smell of espresso pairing perfectly with old books.
Although my friend was not as impressed as I by the four-floor closed collection of royal codices, I redeemed myself quickly. Hidden in a nondescript corner on the first floor, I found a door to the Historical Manuscripts room. The dimly lit recess was filled with glass cases housing beautiful rare volumes such as a vellum copy of the Gutenberg Bible, 15th century editions of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, and original Beatles song sheets. And it was shockingly uncrowded.
In perusing some pre-Columbian world maps, I stumbled upon an alcove housing the Magna Carta! And more than that. As it turns out, from the four originals that survive, The British Library has two. My friend’s famous libertarian tag-line “taxation is theft” was about to meet the OG of tax rebellion.
The documents themselves were stunning, if incomprehensible in their flowery script and old-English vernacular. We enjoyed exchanging our strained knowledge on the 12th century as we read the printed translations on the wall.
While the Magna Carta was ahead of its time in many ways, a few passages ground it firmly in the middle ages; such as its 3 Jewish Clauses, one of which explains that “If a man dies owing a debt to the Jews, his wife may have her dower [dowry] and pay nothing of that debt.”
Today economists recognize that credit is crucial for economic progress, a vacuum 1100 AD Jewish residents stepped in to fill. But with the legally sanctioned payment insecurity and the hazard of the king pardoning Jewish-held debts, it’s a wonder how the Jewish classes managed to accrue wealth at all.
As we left feeling simultaneously reflective and inspired, Guillaume turned to me and admitted the detour was the perfect send off.
If you find yourself in London, and are a like-minded lover of books or history, don’t neglect to pay the British Library a visit. Although, as I’m writing this pre-Brexit, trips after January may become more difficult.