A Second Trip to North York Central (1987): Introduction and Sixth Floor

Due to its immense scale, I found North York Central Library (1987) to be an entire universe unto itself. Located in the mall next to Mel Lastman Square, the sheer size, complexity, and scope of this branch blew me away. In fact, I felt so overwhelmed by the task of adequately describing all of its 168,022 square feet that I decided to write one post per floor, beginning with the sixth floor and working my way down.

The top floor, also known as the Gladys Allison Canadiana Room, was smaller than the lower levels, creating an aeyrie-like effect as I leaned against a low carpeted wall overlooking the atrium below. Straight in front of me was a mural of a Northern sky that pressed down on mountains of ice. A maple leaf carved into a wooden disk proudly upheld the Canadian theme.

The lofty sixth floor may have represented the firmament of North York Central, but the sky mural wasn’t its absolute limit. A milky-purple galaxy alive with stars glimmered further overhead. I caught my breath when I casually looked up, for I hadn’t been expecting to see anything more infinite than the sky!

Tilting my head towards the galaxy intensified the minor vertigo I was experiencing from my bird’s-eye perch. It made me appreciate the solidness of the structure I was leaning against; the sturdy upholstered wall minimized the sense of floating in the giddy expanse of the atrium.

Dividing North York Central branch into its east and west sides, the central atrium was like a canyon. From my eastern perspective, I could see over the atrium and the open staircases on both sides.

From so high up, the vast complexity of this urban beehive was showcased in a dramatic fashion. Reduced-sized patrons scurried about their scholarly business on multiple floors. A lone man worked at his laptop in the fourth floor’s observation pod. Another person squatted against the carpeted ledge of another tower to answer a cellular summons. And on the first floor of the west side, a round table with radial dividers looked like a package of cheese wedges with miniature lactose-tolerant readers in attendance.

As I gazed for several more minutes, the scene below began to remind me of a massive 1980’s pinball machine. For example, the round observation circles at the edges of the east floors looked like a series of obstacles for a pinball to ricochet around. A thick red column vertically pierced all the circles from the fifth to the second floors, increasing the challenge of the game. Even the staircase on the west side resembled a chute with a round basin at the end to collect lost pinballs.

Wondering what it might be like to rappel from the highest floor to the lobby, I tore myself away from the hypnotic view and walked over to the darkened microfilm room on the north side of the sixth floor. With lights suitably dimmed for the pursuit of past mysteries, this research area featured glossy scanners next to large black computer screens. Genealogical microfilms and old newspapers waited patiently in cabinets.

The remaining section of the Canadiana Room received extra light from east and south-facing windows that offered views of North York’s skyline and Mel Lastman Square respectively. Potted plants soaked up the plentiful rays and made the room a home-like place to pore over documents contained in the North York History Collection.

On a nearby wall was a portrait of Gladys Allison (1901-1979), who served on the North York Library Board from 1951 to 1967. The painting depicted a woman with short silver hair set in gentle waves who was typing in front of well-stocked bookshelves. The majority of the books’ spines were blank, but the portrait-painter did provide some titles, including Tomorrow Will Be Better, Lorna Doon, Miracle of the Breakfast Table, Short History of the English People, and The Works of Shakespeare.

Not far from Gladys’ painting was a gilded oak lion with a pompadour mane and slightly protruding eyes. According to the display information, The Golden Lion of North York was carved by Paul Sheppard, and it used to stand guard over the entrance to a nineteenth-century inn near Sheppard and Yonge, The Golden Lion Hotel.

Paying my respects to the historic lion and its academic pride, I stepped into the elevator and pressed 5, Science and Technology.