Breakfast in Scarborough

A few days after the Mount Pleasant library visit, I walked from the Eaton Centre to Ossington and Bloor, taking in three libraries along the way. The first library I visited that day was Urban Affairs inside Metro City Hall. A blue and green banner alerted me to its presence, so I walked up a short flight of stairs into the quiet. From the silence and spaciousness of this branch, it was clearly more of a research than a community library (although there were lots of helpful leaflets about community events strewn about the tops of cabinets). With Urban Affair’s special Toronto Collection, microfilm machines, law and legislation section, and stacks of urban-themed magazines and journals, it reminded me of a time in my life when I was consumed with postgraduate research. I used to spend hours in the University of Glasgow Library and other research libraries in Edinburgh, Leeds, and Cambidge.

I admired Urban Affairs’ extra-wide tables, four appealing study rooms, meeting room, and the view of the busy intersection of John and Wellington. A few sleepers could be discovered head down in their papers, their breathing only mildly affecting the hush that was only occasionally broken by the rustle of turning pages and the tapping of keyboards. It was slightly disorienting being in a Toronto library with no movie section, no ESL shelves, no storytelling schedules or librarians trying to herd patrons into a single line. The no-nonsense atmosphere didn’t encourage me to linger.

The next library I saw, Sanderson, had a very different vibe. Nestled in a busy community centre complex with a pool, outreach facilities, immigrant services, and a greenhouse, Sanderson branch felt much more alive than Urban Affairs. Maybe it was the puppet theatre and mini-stage opposite. It could have been the papier mache clown with a rainbow wig sitting on a table near the check-out desk. These features, in addition to the jug of water and cone paper cups for thirsty readers, the sound of a fussy baby crying, and the sight of so many Torontonians absorbed in their reading, all contributed to a picture of vibrancy and neighbourhood togetherness.

I wandered about the adult section — extensive with split-level floor, stairs, and a ramp — admiring the large Vietnamese, Chinese, Portugese, and Spanish collections. Canadian Literature had an impressive showing, as did the ESL and Literacy section. My favourite Sanderson feature, though, had to be its eight window box seats upholstered with rust-coloured carpet. The one I chose to inhabit had a view of the community garden; from my window I saw tall weeds, the greenhouse decorated with children’s drawings, and white butterflies. The seat captured a glorious patch of sunlight, and I must have luxuriated there in my stockinged feet for at least twenty minutes. Easily made happy, reading in window seats has to be among my top ten blissful activities.

The scene outside Sanderson Library near the corner of Dundas West and Bathurst was less than blissful, however. Two tired homeless men were sleeping away the steamy afternoon under a tree in the courtyard beside a wide expanse of library windows. Just over their heads was a sign yelling “READ” in big red blobby letters. Separating the two sleepers was an abstract concrete shape, part bench, part sculpture. And on the sidewalk nearby was a mural of a dancing raven painted by an artist called Victor.

My last stop on the library train was Biblioteca College and Shaw. This branch was modest in size with walls painted the colour of a key lime pie whose bright filling has been muted by Cool Whip. The carpet was green mixed with white and brown in a vine-leaf pattern. A potted tree and sunflowers constructed from hemp which were tacked to a cork board also accentuated the nature theme. And a fake aquarium added to the cozy feel of the place, as did an old sofa and wicker chairs by the magazine-reading area.

Not far from the giant potted plant was the twirling Romance-novel carrol. Some of the titles grabbed my attention right away: “The Bride and the Bargain”, “Bought for the Marriage Bed”, and “Nerd in Shining Armor”. As I took in the rest of the room, it was pleasing to see how busy it was on a late Monday afternoon. Every table had readers bent over their work, and each computer had an absorbed user in front of its screen. I noticed there was a large Portugese section as well as a substantial Chinese one. College and Shaw also had a Teen Zone and a children’s section, including a low window bench with a red leather cover. The window above the seat was plastered with a paper-plate craft display. And teddy bears surveyed the active reading scene from the top of a nearby shelf. Like Sanderson, the College and Shaw branch had a friendly, community air that was very welcoming.

A few weeks ago, Stewart and I paid a visit to the Mount Pleasant branch after an afternoon in Leaside munching Montreal bagels and sampling ice-cream from Hollywood Gelato. This library branch is tucked between a row of shops on Mount Pleasant Street (of all streets!). It’s a small venue, rectangle in shape, with cream-colored bricks on the outside. Very tall shelves — both free-standing and attached to the walls — claimed the majority of the space. A wide aisle right in the middle of the rectangle allowed patrons to settle on chairs covered in gray plastic to read the latest magazines and newspapers.

The most unique feature of the Mount Pleasant branch was a broad window seat in the children’s section that provided a carpeted perch for readers to observe the sidewalk scene. A very large brown stuffed bear was demonstrating how window-seat-sitting is done, having established himself in the secure corner where the southeast wall met the window. Over the bear’s head but closer to the entrance were some kites with their tails dangling from the ceiling.

We didn’t stay long because we only had about twenty minutes of parking on the meter, but I was glad to resume the library-visiting project after many months.