Trafika Europe 11 - Swiss Delights

Matteo Terzaghi

reasonably expect that they’ll carefully re-shelve each book afterward. Theman to the right, seen in profile with his hands in his coat pockets, vaguely resembles James Joyce—although that year, the last of the writer’s life, he’d have been in Zurich. It’s a mysterious, ambiguous image: it almost looks as if the roof caved in behind them and they were so absorbed in the books that they didn’t even notice. But all three are wearing hats, so they must’ve been aware that this was an open-air library. I think of this photograph on the day someone has apparently declared “World Book Day,” as I listen to a rambling library director on the radio, peppering listeners with rapid-fire good tidings, including an enthusiastic invitation to visit him at work: “You’re all welcome to stop by, every single one of you!” as if he worked at a dance hall. I vividly remember my first library visit. There was only one way it was like going to a dance: I had to muster up the courage just to dive in. I consulted the venerable card catalog and its countless wooden drawers—relics that were retired just a few years later—transcribed author, title, and call number onto the slip, and handed it over at the reference desk. The reading room was full of adults hunched over important-looking pages and notebooks, barricaded

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