In the quiet residential neighborhood of Fukagawa in Tokyo's eastern suburbs is a leafy children's playground. Amidst the tall trees, slides, and swings favored by local children and parents is a building that looks oddly out of place. A three-story tall stone building, built in the modernist Western style so favored in early 20th century Japan, greet park visitors. The neoclassical facade of the building is imposing enough to be a centerpiece for a major history museum, yet, located in the little neighborhood park, it has to settle for a much mundane role: the neighborhood public library.
Yet, the mundane role does not stop the library from being, for what it is, a well-maintained piece of public resource. The beautiful exterior of the building's classical facades are perfectly matched by the clean,well-organized rows of books inside the building. Everything from the latest editions of popular magazines to English-language novels can be browsed and borrowed for free for any residents in the general vicinity. Multiple members of full-time staff members are on hand to help the library's mostly elderly patrons navigate its sophisticated book search machines and make prints with on-site copiers.
Honestly, all the luxuriousness of such a well-stocked and maintained library in a normal residential neighborhood feels a bit like waste of taxpayer money. Given the prevalence of Internet, most information can be thought out on the Internet, without the hassle of physically heading to the local library. Given the library's limited space, even with three full floors of bookshelves, it simply cannot compete with information available on the web. Instead of spending money upkeeping the doubtless beautiful physical collection, the library could find better use of resources with starting a remotely accessible online literary collection.
But even as libraries no longer retain its role as the local community's leading depository of knowledge and information, it continues to place a societal role as a centerpiece of community life. People may not be at the library for browsing books. Instead, they seek out a place for some quiet study time, and participation in community events that take place in its various activity and meeting rooms. The library, then, is better thought of as a free coworking space and community center. Having an imposing building to house it certainly strengthens such an image.
The ability for the likes of Fukagawa Library to retain some sort of relevance in the Internet-dominated world speaks to the continuing importance of using public resources to maintain a physical sense of community among a particular geographical area's residents. Social media can certainly help connect people from distant corners of the world, but having plenty of online social capital does not make the need for offline human connections obsolete. In times of disasters and emergencies, immediate help from neighbors are still more valuable than condolences from friends far away.
That need to maintain real, physical connections among residents is particularly important in an "old" society like Japan, where proportions of elders is reaching an all-time high year after year. Seniors are less likely to be proficient in Internet-based tools, and getting them together in a short notice require much more than just sending out emails and awaiting replies. Something like the local library, then, would serve as central landmarks where people are used to gathering during normal times, and can thus easily be arranged to meet during times of emergency.
The question is whether playing such a role is worth all the money currently being spent on underused facilities like libraries. Granted, the number of people actively using libraries may decrease further and further as tomorrow's old people become more tech-savvy. Public buildings, whether libraries, streets, or parks, still provide neighborhoods with a sense of identity that goes beyond simple utilitarian purposes that they were originally intended for. In an Internet-inundated future, people still predictably venture into the offline world, where public resources will continue to greet and welcome them.
So the public library should stay, even if they are no longer the primary source of information for most people, and prove to be a drain on local government coffers. They not only help older members of society maintain a sense of community, they also provide central locations that serve as gathering points during times of emergency. Even just aesthetically, they serve as a symbol of community, a defining physical manifestation of local residents' price in where they live. Fukagawa Library, in all its beauty both inside and out, perhaps represent the best example of how a mundane library can still bring together a mundane community.
Yet, the mundane role does not stop the library from being, for what it is, a well-maintained piece of public resource. The beautiful exterior of the building's classical facades are perfectly matched by the clean,well-organized rows of books inside the building. Everything from the latest editions of popular magazines to English-language novels can be browsed and borrowed for free for any residents in the general vicinity. Multiple members of full-time staff members are on hand to help the library's mostly elderly patrons navigate its sophisticated book search machines and make prints with on-site copiers.
Honestly, all the luxuriousness of such a well-stocked and maintained library in a normal residential neighborhood feels a bit like waste of taxpayer money. Given the prevalence of Internet, most information can be thought out on the Internet, without the hassle of physically heading to the local library. Given the library's limited space, even with three full floors of bookshelves, it simply cannot compete with information available on the web. Instead of spending money upkeeping the doubtless beautiful physical collection, the library could find better use of resources with starting a remotely accessible online literary collection.
But even as libraries no longer retain its role as the local community's leading depository of knowledge and information, it continues to place a societal role as a centerpiece of community life. People may not be at the library for browsing books. Instead, they seek out a place for some quiet study time, and participation in community events that take place in its various activity and meeting rooms. The library, then, is better thought of as a free coworking space and community center. Having an imposing building to house it certainly strengthens such an image.
The ability for the likes of Fukagawa Library to retain some sort of relevance in the Internet-dominated world speaks to the continuing importance of using public resources to maintain a physical sense of community among a particular geographical area's residents. Social media can certainly help connect people from distant corners of the world, but having plenty of online social capital does not make the need for offline human connections obsolete. In times of disasters and emergencies, immediate help from neighbors are still more valuable than condolences from friends far away.
That need to maintain real, physical connections among residents is particularly important in an "old" society like Japan, where proportions of elders is reaching an all-time high year after year. Seniors are less likely to be proficient in Internet-based tools, and getting them together in a short notice require much more than just sending out emails and awaiting replies. Something like the local library, then, would serve as central landmarks where people are used to gathering during normal times, and can thus easily be arranged to meet during times of emergency.
The question is whether playing such a role is worth all the money currently being spent on underused facilities like libraries. Granted, the number of people actively using libraries may decrease further and further as tomorrow's old people become more tech-savvy. Public buildings, whether libraries, streets, or parks, still provide neighborhoods with a sense of identity that goes beyond simple utilitarian purposes that they were originally intended for. In an Internet-inundated future, people still predictably venture into the offline world, where public resources will continue to greet and welcome them.
So the public library should stay, even if they are no longer the primary source of information for most people, and prove to be a drain on local government coffers. They not only help older members of society maintain a sense of community, they also provide central locations that serve as gathering points during times of emergency. Even just aesthetically, they serve as a symbol of community, a defining physical manifestation of local residents' price in where they live. Fukagawa Library, in all its beauty both inside and out, perhaps represent the best example of how a mundane library can still bring together a mundane community.
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