Philippa Stevenson: Library’s return puts heart back into high school

Bibliophiles will rejoice to know that next month, Cambridge High School will open its refurbished, extended and re-stocked library.

The library was controversially closed two years ago in favour of a proposed cybercafe by former principal Alison Annan, who resigned in August amid allegations of staff bullying and manipulation of exam results.

The school's commissioner, Dennis Finn, said one of the Education Review Office's most severe criticisms of the school was on the library's closure and he had looked at re-opening it even before the refurbishment was completed.

The need to provide the best conditions for $100,000 of new books made him think again.

Instead, volunteers are spending these school holidays coding books ready to go on the shelves when the last dust has been swept. That will be around the middle of next month.

The reinstatement of the library had been "a biggy" for the school in its journey back from strife. It was a foundation for deciding where the school moved to and how it got there, Finn said.

"It's put the heart back into the school, which is also where it's positioned. When you walk into the campus now the library will be an attractive and inviting central place."

The library has virtually been re-stocked from scratch after most of its former books were disposed of.

The National Library Service had advised on what should be stocked and local charitable trusts had helped buy up to 10,000 new titles. It was hoped eventually to have up to 15,000 books, Finn said.

The books will be combined with digital resources and around 30 computers are also being installed.

"Books are a source of knowledge and so is the internet. They go hand in hand and students have got to have access to both," Finn said.

This seems a triumph of common sense. In a country where statisticians have found that book-buying is our most popular cultural activity and visiting a library comes second, it is well-nigh impossible to comprehend the library was closed in the first place.

Thankfully, the Barbarians have been driven from the school gate and we must hope their rout will have halted any other similarly benighted characters in their tracks.

It means I and others worried about the dissipation of our personal libraries by invading hordes, otherwise known as book-borrowing friends and acquaintances, can get back to figuring out how to thwart our innate lend/borrow tendencies.

An unexpected consequence of writing a column on book-borrowing a while back was that friends returned a few books I'd completely forgotten I'd lent. An unwanted consequence was that I had mates asking fearfully if they had any books of mine.

One of the reasons I'd hesitated to have some system for recording my lending, as I wrote at the time, was that it seemed to run counter to the generosity of the act. I want to share the treasures I find just as I enjoy the gems others share with me.

But when the sharing is done, I just want my books back - a sentiment shared by many readers.

They sent the column whizzing around the world by letter and email, jogging the memories of borrowers.

But one correspondent raised another frightening spectre.

"Apart from 'may I borrow this book?' one of the worst things you can hear, when you inquire of a borrower of a book's whereabouts, is 'but I returned that ages ago!'

"They really believe they've given it back. I've lent, twice, two separate copies of a favorite anthology and I'm still looking for a replacement as I've never seen them again."

One reader suggested a simple solution. "My daughter and her friend have for years put their name, address and phone number on cute labels on the cover, and this is a great reminder to borrowers."

It's a good thought. If only I'd done that to my copy of Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything. Hint. Anyone. Please!