Breakfast in Scarborough

Palmerston Library, a modest-sized branch just west of Bathurst on Bloor, was a relaxing place to spend a couple of hours in the city. A considerable number of fellow Torontonians seemed to share my sentiment, as the main room (square with white brick walls) was filled to capacity with readers and computer users. What saved the all-white interior from being overly institutional was a display of Summer Reading Club illustrations near the entrance. These pictorial book reports created by young readers gave testimony to time machines, fire engines, subway cars, three little pigs, a dragon, and a “vacation under the volcano.”

A few more playful decorations livened up the space to the left of the entrance. A purple wizard kite flew overhead in a floppy purple hat that seemed part-toque, part-nightcap. Wire-rim spectacles and a long gray beard further enhanced his scholarly image, and he had tucked his hands into drawn-on sleeves. Actually, his arms were no more than suggestions; they served as the kite’s side flaps. The rest of the wizard’s body was one very long purple swoosh of kite material, spanning the children’s section diagonally. Next to the wizard was a much smaller kite, a multicoloured fish with a propeller-like tail.

Palmerston branch, which opened in 1971, had initially been a children’s library (see TPL’s website). The kids’ books were indeed plentiful, including lots of French ones, but I was surprised to find loose bare sofa cushions on the floor instead of carpeted window seats and other amenities common in the majority of branches I’ve visited.

The adult section offered a good many Korean materials and to a lesser extent, Spanish ones. On the wall near the ESL shelves were two important notice boards: Newcomer Information and Volunteer Opportunities. A small Local History Collection displayed titles such as The Riot at Christie Pits, The Annex, and Honest Ed Mirvish: How to Build an Empire on an Orange Crate. I couldn’t see Honest Ed’s corny brilliance from my table near the computers, but I did enjoy the view of the back of some red brick buildings along Bloor. They reminded me of the rear view of late 19th century storefronts in my hometown square of Liberty, Missouri. (My mother once devoted a whole series of paintings to these architectural shapes one summer).

Before I left Palmerston to meet a friend, I wanted to see the basement level which housed a meeting room and theatre. However, the door was locked, possibly because no specific events were scheduled that day. Not overly daunted, I tucked a DVD biography of Charles Darwin into my backpack and rejoined the pedestrian traffic along Bloor.

Earlier in the week I paid a visit to Northern District Library. The vast main floor of this 1975 building reminded me of a university library, and to wander among its extensive shelves took a pleasingly long time. An hour passed before I realized I’d better wrap up my notes and go fetch some salad for dinner.

The grid pattern of the main level’s white ceiling looked like an upside-down waffle. The flat lights were the waffle’s indentations and the beams which framed the light-grids were the raised ridges. As I walked under the pale waffle, I passed big leather couches near the entrance and headed to the large Children’s Area in the southeast corner. Reading benches were placed near the tall windows, creating handy places to perch when the call to read struck. I liked the inclusive display of books propped on top of a non-fiction shelf: Goddesses, Heroes and Shamans, Sikhism, and Many Ways: How Families Practice Their Beliefs and Religions.

I was also impressed by a large piece of functional art in the Children’s Area. Titled “Appleapes” and made of wood, it featured a red border that framed an apple tree and five apple-loving apes. The apple tree was on the left side and hosted a woodpecker on its trunk. A big mama ape occupied the majority of the composition, filling the lower middle and right portions. Clutching an apple in the digits of each lower limb, she also had a row of coat pegs and hooks integrated into her body. Above the mama primate were four babies hanging from the red wooden border overhead. They, too, had apples in their clutches.

As I meandered through the rest of the library, I marvelled at the size of the foreign language collections: French, Serbian, Chinese, and Estonian. There used to be a Japanese collection as well, but a notice advised that it had been moved to North York Library. ESL and Literacy materials abounded, and a North Toronto Local History Section was available for researchers to dig into.

The Skylight Gallery upstairs consisted of a semi-circular stretch of wall that curved underneath (surprise!) a grand skylight. Nothing was on display when I visited except one piece near the washrooms. I had some difficulty making out the artist’s name painted in the bottom right corner, but it looked like Tom Lane. With a distinctively tactile appeal, the large canvas was covered in tinted tree bark, and its three-dimensionality was enhanced by protruding mushrooms. Refraining from touching the bark, I trotted back down the stairs and emerged into the afternoon busyness of Yonge and Eglinton.