(signed) Alone in Lamont

In the Undergraduate Library

So, on library days when I get to Harvard square before Widener opens, I sit down in the Lamont coffee shop area. It’s well-lit and noisy enough that I don’t drift off, and between 8:45 and 10:15 I usually hold court there. And by hold court I mean sit ignored, working on an essay and e-mailing, feeling my typing get faster as the caffeine from 6:30 finally starts to work. Unlike the stuffy silence of Widener, this is a social space that doesn’t include me, and that’s definitely one of the things I love about it. People are hailing each other over my head all the time—and meanwhile my computer is pinging me with e-mails, facebook updates and all the rest (if I twittered, no doubt it would twitter) as everyone I know, in libraries, offices and bedrooms up and down the East Coast also feels the caffeine kick in. Lisa doesn’t drink coffee, which probably explains why she never e-mails me at this hour: for the rest of my friends, I think that 40% of all the traffic comes in right in this slot.

The point is, though, that everything that comes through my computer is for me, and nothing that’s said in my presence is. In Widener, actually, it’s the opposite: a studied revenent hush prevails, but I am constantly seeing people I know. Makes sense: we’re all middle-aged and overzealous which explains why we’re in the Phillips reading room. But it makes the facework of the library oddly complicated. I like it, which is why I’m always there by about 11; the contingency of who I’ll run into is always a charming part of it. But I’ve come to enjoy the two hours of electronic back and forth and total isolation among the good old fashioned flirting of the undergrads just as much. I think it’s something like reading for class (say “Snow” by Orhan Pamuk) while watching Friday Night Lights.