Not long before Saint Patrick’s Day, I visited Eatonville Library, a large branch at the intersection of Burnhamthorpe and Highway 427. Near the check out desk was a holiday display strewn with paper shamrocks that nestled between upright books by Roddy Doyle and Maeve Binchey as well as Irish Dancing videos. Though the building was big, there wasn’t much space to put my hands on my hips and kick, for Eatonville was packed with busy patrons. On that Saturday afternoon, it was much more crowded than other southwest Toronto branches like Elmbrook Park, Humber Bay, New Toronto, and Alderwood.
Oringinally built in 1967, Eatonville was reconstucted in 2000, but so much heavy use seemed to have faded its millennial shininess. I was getting a more a gritty, urban vibe from this branch, as its densely-packed multicultural intensity reminded me of branches closer to my home in Scarborough, such as Fairview and Bridlewood. Behind a couple of turnable carrels of paperback fiction, a man prayed on his knees, rising and then returning to rest his forehead on the floor again and again. Moreover, reading material for Eatonville patrons in Chinese, Hindi, Korean, Polish, Punjabi, and Spanish reflected the multilingual richness that was also strikingly alive in branches such as Malvern, Agincourt, North York Central, S. Walter Stewart, Cedarbrae, McGregor Park, Riverdale, Parkdale, and Gerrard/Ashdale.
Eatonville’s children’s section was vast, well-stocked, and pleasant, but graffiti carved into the wooden window bench provided more urban flavour than the library was probably looking for. Even the stuffed animals that lined two high shelves had seen better days; many of them were stained with magic marker, fur-tattered, and ready for retirement. Nevertheless, the sheer volume of the stuffed assembly was impressive: a frog lying on his back, a witch with green hair, a sun, two octopus cousins, a bunny, a duck, a blue and green bumblebee, a blue dog, a burgandy elephant, a clown, an electric-lime-green bear, a black hen, and a panda bear in a blue snow suit. In the middle of the section was a purple cardboard castle with Tinkerbell perched on a turret decorated with real cobwebs.
As I waited in a long line to check out a travel DVD, I gazed up at the high ceiling and appreciated the breathing room it inspired. Walking back to the car, I admired the tall grasses planted around the perimeter of the building, the exterior of which looked like a silver oceanliner beached at the highway’s edge. Happy sailing, Eatonville readers!