Librarian Problems...

When your friends mistake John Dewey and Melvil Dewey for the same person:

No, the Dewey Decimal System is not part of some pragmatist philosophical conspiracy. It's actually pretty great.

Review: The Good Reading Guide (Free Trial!)

Sometime in the middle of last summer, I was very interested to hear of the existence of a new book-reviewing initiative on the web. The Good Reading Guide grew out of a small family-run bookstore in Australia in 2011, as an effort to facilitate personal reading selection in sync with the respect of human dignity. 

Here is The Good Reading Guide's reviewing philosophy:

At the Good Reading Guide we believe that books can have a significant impact on a person Just as people thrive in a society that recognizes their dignity, so can they thrive when their reading material in some way reflects this dignity, and if possible, enhances their understanding of it.  

We aim to source literature that is of quality in both style and substance. Structure and vocabulary should be at a sufficient standard, characters well-developed and believable, plots engaging and themes appropriate for the intended reader of each book. We recommend books that contribute to readers' culture and character and are broadly compatible with Christian values, but more than just seeking 'clean' books we aim to recommend books that will enrich the lives of readers in at least one of the following areas: 

Culture: we seek books that build culture by expanding  the world of the reader and teaching them new things, helping them to see beyond a superficial vision of life;
Humanity: we try to select books that help readers to deepen their understanding of humanity by 'living in someone else's shoes' for a time;
Language: we look for books that enhance readers' language and logical reasoning; and
Character: we seek books that help to build character by offering criteria for developing maturity in judgement and action. 

Staying for the Credits: The Problem of Reverence

I absolutely love going to the movie theater alone. To me, there is no pleasure quite like attending a late Saturday morning matinee, free from the gaggling primetime crowds-- just me, the film, and about three other quiet pleasure-seekers, all silently brimming with excitement as we enter our nearly empty sanctuary. I've always been told that I'm a picky movie-goer-I'm one of those people who scowls at animated crowd reactions and insists on staying until all the credits have rolled (usually out of principle to give everyone the credit they deserve, but also secretly to see if this film is the one out of every few dozen that rewards our loyal patience with a brief post-script). Call me a scrooge, but remaining silent for two hours inside a dark theater shouldn't be too much to ask (especially at today's ticket prices). I usually explain my movie-going rituals in terms of the receptivity required in order to fully experience art in any form-it can be difficult to truly observe the drama in front of our eyes if we are preoccupied with instantly responding to it. The film can too easily be replaced by meta-experience, and we miss some of its richness. Not every film is a bastion of moral seriousness or provocative texture, but I always thought it was quite obvious that we go to the theater to engage ourselves with a story-not to listen to ourselves talk. We can't fully take part in the adventure unless we let ourselves sink back into the woodwork and let the drama take center stage.

The Deceit of Reading and Moral Seriousness

I opened my computer this morning to find this fascinating pair of pieces from First Things and the New Yorker, two great additions to my 'philosophy of reading' files. In the latter, Teju Cole chronicles his initial hope, and then disappointment, in our most recent 'literary president':

Barack Obama is an elegant and literate man with a cosmopolitan sense of the world. He is widely read in philosophy, literature, and history-as befits a former law professor-and he has shown time and again a surprising interest in contemporary fiction...We had, once again, a reader in chief, a man in the line of Jefferson and Lincoln... 

The plain fact is that our leaders have been killing at will. 

How on earth did this happen to the reader in chief? What became of literature's vaunted power to inspire empathy? Why was the candidate Obama, in word and in deed, so radically different from the President he became? In Andrei Tarkovsky's eerie 1979 masterpiece, "Stalker," the landscape called the Zona has the power to grant people's deepest wishes, but it can also derange those who traverse it. I wonder if the Presidency is like that: a psychoactive landscape that can madden whomever walks into it, be he inarticulate and incurious, or literary and cosmopolitan.

Viva Il Papa

At the Holy Sepulchre

 There are not words sufficient to describe the affection I have for our Holy Father. His writing and intellectual work, as well as his quiet and gentle, yet strongly abiding sense of charity, joy, and above all, humility, have been such a gift and example. He has shown us how to listen, how to serve.

I still remember the day if his election, albeit fleetingly. Everyone was still in the throes of coming to terms with the death of John Paul II. As a high-schooler, I remember feeling in a strange state of limbo. I did not have a special attachment to John Paul other than the general affection one feels for the Holy Father, but being so young, John Paul II was THE POPE. In my experience, the office had never belonged to anyone else, so to see it change hands was strangely surreal. As I sat in Spanish class on a Tuesday afternoon, our lesson was interrupted to watch the news unfold on TV. At first glimpse, teen-aged me wasn't sure what to expect. The new pope was clearly different and hard to read, so unlike the charismatic John Paul to which we were all accustomed. 

But since then, I have come to feel a special closeness with Benedict XVI. Like he has been to so many others, he has been a resolute paternal guide during my spiritual coming of age. Somewhat disillusioned by common casual religious attitudes, I was captivated and refreshed by his personal piety, intellectual seriousness, and attentiveness to tradition. This is a man who deeply understands our need for faith and truth. 

His influence on my professional formation has been no less. In a world where the information professions seem increasingly directed towards indulging individualistic curiosity and faddish research and activism, there is great need to return our focus to humble service of the truth. In Salt of the World, Pope Benedict explains:

"In the course of my intellectual life I experienced very acutely the problem of whether it isn't actually presumptuous to say that we can know the truth-in the face of all our limitations. I also asked myself to what extent it might not be better to suppress this category. In pursuing this question, however, I was able to observe and also to grasp that relinquishing truth doesn't solve anything but, on the contrary, leads to the tyranny of caprice. In that case, the only thing that can remain in really what we decide on and can replace at will. Man is degraded if he can't know truth, if everything, in the final analysis, is just the product of an individual or collective decision. 

In this way it became clear to me now important it is that we don't lose the concept of truth, in spite of the menaces and perils that it doubtless carries with it. It has to remain as a central category. As a demand on us that doesn't give us rights but requires, on the contrary, our humility and our obedience and can lead us to the common path" (66-67).

As such, I have come to see a clear part of my professional vocation as not simply empowering people with knowledge, but helping them on the path to freedom through the pursuit of truth. In hindsight, I am very glad that the Holy Father never achieved his dream of being the Vatican librarian, otherwise we'd likely be at a large loss for his wisdom. Grazie, Il Papa-you have been a true gift to us all.

Oremus pro Pontifice nostro Benedicto-Dominus conservet eum et vivificet eum, et beatum faciat eum in terra, et non tradat eum in animam inimicorum eius.

2012: Books in Review

Always carry a sword an a book-it worked for St. Catherine.

2012 is almost at its end. It has been an interesting, and at times, sporadic, reading year. I'm not about to offer a litany of book reviews, first because I tend to have lengthy opinions about nearly everything I read, but also because I have this terrible habit (or wonderful, depending on how you look at it), of moving on so quickly to the next book that book reviews get neglected (save my personal notes). But here is a rough approximation of what I read in 2012, in no particular order (* indicates titles I have started):

Eugenics and Other Evils, G.K. Chesterton

On Being Human, Bl. Fulton Sheen

Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Ever Seen, Christopher McDougall

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, Susan Cain

Self-Abandonment to Divine Providence, Jean-Pierre de Caussade

Wherein I Rant about Banned Books Week

It is that time of year again. The week when nearly every librarian and their brother give enthusiastic exhortations to "Read Banned Books!" and proceed to superficially discuss the importance of 'intellectual freedom.'

It would be an understatement to say that I am deeply exasperated by the annual celebration of Banned Books Week. Like a lot of other ALA advocacy efforts, it is emotionally charged, politically correct, and does not facilitate a rich discussion of the issues it aims to address. I hope this post enables a bit of that discussion. My heart was warmed earlier this week by a post from Annoyed Librarian which addresses the mis-direction of Banned Books Week. Like many modern librarian activities, it involves a healthy dose of pretend progressivism:

"This is such a typically radical librarian thing to do: pretend to be subversive and daring by doing something that's not remotely prohibited by law, including some apparently xenophobic laws in Arizona. Unless the underground librarians are planning to sneak into classrooms and start teaching kids Sandra Cisneros, all the feelgood drama is completely unnecessary."

As someone who doesn't abide by the ALA's fake subversiveness, I guess I get a prize for having a truly radical librarian view (?).

In regards to the discussion of intellectual freedom and 'spreading awareness' about the lingering impact of censorship in today's libraries, I am almost always disappointed by the tone of articles, blog posts, etc. that inevitably end in a disparagement of so-called 'inquisitionist' or 'crazy' parents who wish to thrust their mind control upon the rest of society. While it is true that virtually all instances of what are now colloquially referred to as 'book banning' are mere challenges placed by individual parents in school or public libraries, many parents who submit such challenges do so with the good intentions of properly stewarding their children's media consumption. I still think it is naive of them to presume that all libraries, even the children's section, are completely tailored to their value system and parenting methods, and also think it is silly to think that said libraries should be punished just because you did not double-check junior's book bag. Nonetheless, this is the very population of 'pro-censorship' people that Banned Books Week Advocacy seems to be aimed at, yet I rarely hear anyone charitably engage book-challenging parents in a logical dialog about why censorship might be problematic. Such respect is often feigned, albeit well, by reference desk staffers with short tempers. Usually what one hears is akin to "Stop being difficult. You are annoying. We are right. You are wrong. Read banned books!"So much for library neutrality.

Aside from its feigned radicalism, my two biggest criticisms of Banned Books Week are 1) that it only perpetuates myths and misconceptions of censorship rather than educating the public about reality and 2) its false subversiveness and one-dimensional slogan do not encourage the public, whether young or old, to critically examine their attitudes about reading and media consumption.

Catholic Speaker Month: Alice von Hildebrand

Before the entire month gets away from me, I'd like to take some time to welcome any new readers in observance of Support a Catholic Speaker Month, organized by Brandon Vogt. It is my pleasure to introduce you (or re-introduce you) to Dr. Alice von Hildebrand, who is a favorite speaker and writer of mine.

I first encountered Alice myself when she spoke a few years ago at a conference sponsored by the Right-to-Life Club at my alma mater. She spoke with passion about the pains, both socially and spiritually, that abortion has caused, and continues to cause, in our society today. She is a petite little lady, but she has a lively spirit about her. Not one to draw attention to myself, I didn't immediate introduce myself to her after her talk. But as luck would have it,  a large number of students involved in organizing the conference were obligated to attend a wedding that same evening, which left only myself and a good friend of mine available to take her out to dinner and return her to the airport the next day. It was a delight to listen to her more throughout our hearty Italian meal as she spoke about Aristotle and friendship, and especially her husband, Dietrich, about whom she speaks with joyful admiration (more about him later). It was also quite a sight to see her ride shotgun in my friend's bright red Ford Mustang on the way to her flight.

Who is John Galt?

Since the announcement of Paul Ryan as Mitt Romney's running mate late last week, the ever-blazing fire of political hysteria has had a fresh burst of fuel. Luckily, we will not discuss politics on this blog. We shall leave that unpleasant pastime to other blogging heads. But what is pressing my buttons is all the hysteria that is being generated about Paul Ryan's relationship with Randian literature. I know very little about the extent and exact nature of the influence of Ayn's canon on Ryan's politics. I have sampled a few anecdotes. Far and wide, people are crying fowl that Ryan has demonstrated positive interest in Rand's works. And then denying their influence on him-or not?

Really, Atlas is just holding his head in his hands and
 weeping about the modern state of political discourse.

Now really, I could read as much as my puny litter grey matter could handle and I still wouldn't know up from down about the whole truth of the interior life of this country's dear politicians. But suffice it to say, I've already become annoyed at some who have severely recoiled at Ryan's association with Rand, as if reading a book and finding it fascinating and insightful somehow generates incurable Objectivist cooties. Ryan certainly got some measure of excitement from Rand, but his interest does not appear to be fanatical. I don't deny that Rand's Objectivism is downright frightening, but I don't think Ryan's significant engagement with her writing should necessarily alarm folks. I may stand corrected as I do my duty and reluctantly listen to more political banter as this election season progresses, but I think the general public is wrong to use Ryan's Rand connection to impulsively label him an enemy of the people (IMH non-political opinion).

Reading is My Drug

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

-J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

There's an oft-repeated old story about a tropical island on a vast sea that was surrounded by a massive wall. Explorers thought this was a shame, for the natives were missing out on all the beauty of the surrounding waters. So they knocked down the wall, and shortly a storm came along that destroyed the island, which, but for the absence of the wall, would have not caused such devastation. With all the wonders of the information age, one can easily get too enthralled in the wonders of technology and also those of information. It is justifiably exciting when we can pull up maps on our iPhones, instantly look up that random useless fact that has been nagging us all day, or especially when we have the ability to have a whole reference library in our backback, such as the Logos Bible software allows us to do. E-readers give us the exciting ability to store most of a personal library in our pocket, with nearly endless potential for reading enjoyment.

But more and more recently, I have been noticing just how easy it is to become a slave to reading. It's not just for books anymore. Reading material is everywhere these days-in our books, on our phones, on billboards, in the doctor's waiting room, and our computer screens. I am generally a voracious reader under normal conditions, but when stress is added to that mix, I am especially susceptible to reader's binge. Somehow, I have still not perfectly mastered control over the backwards instinctual logic that attempts to remedy stress and excessive mental preoccupations with adding yet more preoccupations to the mix. In the midst of perusing too thoroughly the latest in the Catholic blogosphere, my Twitter feed,  the newly arrived issues of professional association publications, and the rest of todays news, and eyeing the books on my tea-tray, I had to stop myself.

Sometimes we are more chained too books than we realize.

Books to Read Before the Summer is Out

Usually I anticipate Summer reading like a shopaholic preparing for Black Friday. The few spare moments of the Winter months are spent compiling a master list of books I ought to read but have little freedom to during the academic year, which I pounce upon as soon as I'm able. When this Summer began, however, life just got busier. Consequently, this year's list of 'books read is depressingly meager when measured against an average season. But as Summer is only half-over, after all, it is not too late to fit in some good reading. Here are a few titles that I have recently [re-] read, and are well worth your while.

Leisure: The Basis of Culture
Josef Pieper
I first read Josef Pieper's Leisure: The Basis of Culture towards the beginning of library school, and found it refreshing after years of rationalizing workaholic behavior and living in a culture obsessed with work (even if, sometimes, for the right reasons). This short essay, paired with The Philosophical Act, examines the fundamental roots of leisure in celebratory sacrifice. Anyone tired of modern workaholic culture or its equally frustrating counterpart of commodified recreation will enjoy this little book. It is a very timely read for Summer, or if you are trying to regain a sense of balance, peace, and order in your life. And at just around 75 pages, it doesn't require a huge investment of time.

Space Trilogy (Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, That Hideous Strength)
C.S. Lewis

"A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered...You say you have poets in your world. Do they not teach you this?"

So an inquisitive alien asks in the first volume of this marvelous sci-fi trilogy from the mind of C.S. Lewis. The delight of the trilogy for me definitely seems to grow progressively with the remembrance of each read. One can think of this series as a slightly more grown-up segway from Narnia. As someone who loved Madeline L'Engle's Wrinkle in Time series growing up, I quickly adopted the Space Trilogy as a natural favorite, with its unique blend of space adventure, philosophy, and theology (more like sci-fi with a bit of the latter two sprinkled in). That Hideous Strength, with its blend of militaristic drama, academic politics, sorcery, and subtle commentary on love, stands out as my favorite of the three. Those who have only explored Lewis' more theological writing (e.g., Screwtape Letters, The Great Divorce) will enjoy a new dimension of his imagination in the Space Trilogy.

Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World has Never Seen
Christopher McDougall
As a rule, I normally treat most contemporary writing as a secondary concern, to be explored after the more enduring works essential to a lifetime reading list. But Born to Run was just too intriguing to save for later. Motivated by the mystery of foot pain, journalist Christopher McDougall presents a delightfully entertaining narrative of his search for the Tarahumara, a reclusive Mexican people who drink corn beer and run ultramarathons in the canyon desert in bare feet. My favorite chapter has to be McDougall's discussion of the ancient practice of persistence hunting, wherein packs of men essentially chase animals to death (the human body never fails to amaze). With its energy-filled story-telling and exploration of human physiology and anthropology, Born to Run is sure to inspire the runner within to hit the road with new life. And it may tempt you to abandon your sneakers and go 'au naturale.'

Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien
Edited by Humphrey Carpenter

"Well, there you are, a hobbit amongst the Urukhai. Keep up your hobbitry in heart, and think that all stories feel like that when you are in them. You are inside a very great story!"

-J.R.R. Tolkien to Christopher Tolkien (at war), 6 May 1944

Influenced by a recent conversation with a good friend, I decided to take up The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien (after all, it serves a good prelude to a necessary re-reading of The Hobbit before its big screen debut this winter). I have only cracked the surface of this tremendously heart-warming collection of correspondence, and already feel compelled to recommend it without reservation. Like an ageless child, Tolkien's pen seems to be the gateway of a conduit to his heart. The letters to his editors are playful and humble, while those to his wife and children read as effusive parcels of love. His correspondence clearly shows a man with an expansive heart and boundless imagination. Tolkien writes frankly about moral principles and virtue in the wake of wartime, which largely formed the backdrop for his composition of The Lord of the Rings. Not to mention his notes to his sons are frequently sprinkled with Elvish, Latin, and Anglo-Saxon turns of phrase and remarks on the liturgical calendar. Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien is sure to inspire Tolkien fans and captivate new ones.

Happy Reading!

June Mash-Up

A move, a marathon, and matrimonial celebrations have turned June into a perfect storm for derailing my blogging efforts. After all this activity, and at long last valiantly conquering the ISP tyrants, I am now back online. Inevitably, this hiatus has come at a time where I have far too many things to write about. In an attempt to cover some of this ground, I have herded some snippets together so my thought corral does not bulge too much.

--1--

I have thus far avoided doing reviews for this blog, since they have a tendency to quickly turn into overwrought intellectualized op-eds, but I think this has to change soon, lest I become too much of a quietist. Some friends of mine are often surprised at how much I follow movies. This is more a symptom of habits acquired on the job last year than any natural inclination, but I am a natural critic (on occasion I've been ordered not to say anything after viewing a movie for the sake of not prematurely ruining the experience for others). This summer's theater line-up includes several highly-anticipated movies, among them "For Greater Glory." On the heels of all the anticipation, I went to the theater opening weekend. I came out of it wishing I was from south of the border. Several other bloggers have published detailed reviews, including both rants and raves, so I won't beat this horse to death. Despite some of the more critical reviews, I found this film very moving, especially for its portrayal of Bl. Jose Sanchez del Rio. "For Greater Glory" has its flaws (unremarkable score, time restraints curtailed some character development, some slightly off liturgical details), but they don't define the film. The story could have benefited from a more raw portrayal of the main character's internal conflicts, but still a film worth seeing, and a story that needs to be told. 

--2--

The past several weeks have seen a wide-spread bemoaning of libraries who have opted to take Fifty Shades of Grey off their shelves. What has resulted is a typical flip-flopping of the title going in and out of circulation, depending on the library and the response of the public. What has once again come to light is the discussion of how libraries select for their collections and how they enforce their circulation and collection policies, along with hefty debate over whether or not porn or erotic lit has a place in libraries. Some argue that removing Fifty Shades of Grey  from circulation would be inconsistent, since most libraries have an entire section dedicated to Romance novels, to which I say that if you really can't live without your Danielle Steele, county taxpayers shouldn't be enabling your bad habits. How exactly do romance novels and erotic lit fit into the pursuit of upholding Enlightenment values? It's still ridiculous that some public libraries have decided not to install porn filters out of concern for 'intellectual freedom.' To the best of my knowledge, porn filters aren't expansive enough to prohibit the average patron's internet-browsing needs.

--3--

Speaking of censorship, I am tremendously delighted to be the new owner of a 1940 copy of the Index Librorum Prohibitorum. After a quick look through, I'm not sure what the historical fuss was/is all about, even at that time. Few popular novels and literature were on the list, which was mostly focused on published works that include serious doctrinal error on religious matters, although there was a general provision that covers heretical books, and most works of some notable authors, e.g. Nietzche, fall under that category. Some works by Kant and Machiavelli, however, did make the 1940 Index explicitly. The next time one of my colleagues starts hyper-ventilating about the "Church's Banned Books List," I really hope they take my suggestion to actually study the real Index. I'm still seeking out a good book that covers the actual history and use of the Index, since there is so little that I know and understand about it myself.

Chesterton's Blissful Nothing

"There are some who complain of a man for doing nothing; there are some, still more mysterious and amazing, who complain of having nothing to do. When actually presented with some beautiful blank hours or days, they will grumble at their blankness. When given the gift of loneliness, which is the gift of liberty, they will cast it away; they will destroy it deliberately with some dreadful game with cards or a little ball. I speak only for myself; I know it takes all sorts to make a world; but I cannot repress a shudder when I see them throwing away their hard-won holidays by doing something. For my own part, I never can get enough Nothing to do. I feel as if I had never had leisure to unpack a tenth part of the luggage of my life and thoughts. I need not say that there is nothing particularly misanthropic in my desire for isolation; quite the other way. In my morbid boyhood, as I have said, I was sometimes, in quite a horrible sense, solitary in society. But in my manhood, I have never felt more sociable than I do in solitude."

-G.K. Chesterton

What is Authentic Librarianship?

Recently Rick Anderson authored a couple columns in Library Journal that touched on the idea of "authentic librarianship." As he suggests, this is slightly tricky to define. There are several core principles that all librarians generally strive to employ in our professional practice. Anderson offers some examples in his first column. Unsurprisingly they are mostly rooted in promoting critical thinking and improving the lives of individual patrons and the community. All librarians, I think, can agree on the good of these basic principles.

Included on his list was the goal "To improve character and ennoble the 'whole person,'" a natural priority for any good librarian, especially those that work with students. This is a pretty straightforward and noble-sounding mission, but as Anderson notes, different librarians have very different ideas about the nuts and bolts of accomplishing this end. Ultimately, he suggests, taking an aggressively proactive approach to fulfilling the goals of patron service may ironically lead us to serving our own motivations over the good of the patron. As in all occupations, it is good for us to remain humble in our quest for professional authenticity.

So, what is "authentic librarianship"?

Anderson suggests that 'authenticity' consists of the desire to put the patron's needs before our desire to fulfill 'our own agendas.' As he puts it, authentic librarianship is motivated by:

-Concern for the success of the library's patrons in their particular tasks
-Concern for the long-term intellectual welfare of the library's patrons
-Desire to further the goals of the library's sponsoring institution

So for Anderson, authenticity is largely rooted in motivations. But everyone, him included, knows that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, so authenticity cannot stop there:

Self-Abandonment to Divine Providence...not the Economy

"God instructs the heart not by means of ideas, but by pains and contradictions."

-Caussade, Self-Abandonment to Divine Providence

 In today's economy, it is difficult to escape the fact that the world is weary for work. Amidst all the struggles and pains of survival, I think it can also be said that the world is weary of work, and all that modern attitudes have attached to it. While this sounds like a mighty counter-intuitive attitude to contemplate in the midst of a job search, I am convinced that it is more important than ever to confront myself about the relationship I have with my work, and I wish others would be more eager to do the same.

Day of DH: Thomistic Roots

I shouldn't be blogging at all today with a paper to finish, but as I logged into my feed reader today I realized it is Day of DH. For those of you who are non-librarians, Day of DH is a day when digital humanists around the world spend some time documenting what they do, usually by blogging or shout-outs in the Twitter-sphere. I'm not a digital humanist, but I have a marginal interest in DH activities, especially because I'm interested (as any archivist who wants to survive the future) in digital archiving and  preservation. There are a lot of really cool DH projects out there, done by both scholars and non-academics. One of my favorites is the Rosetti Archive (it's cool to see the poems and art of a poet-artist juxtaposed on the same page). Despite some attitudes to the contrary, the humanities are not dead, and technology is only helping to re-vitalize them.

One interesting piece of trivia about digital humanities, humanities computing, or whatever you want to call it, is that it has Jesuit origins. Fr. Robert Busa, S.J., collaborated with IBM to conduct linguistic analysis on the works of St. Thomas Aquinas, resulting in the production of the Index Thomisticus. Fr. Busa, bless his heart, spent years working with punch cards to produce this. He began this not in the 1980s, nor the 1970s, but 1949 (!). He is known as an early pioneer in digital humanities, and his death last year was a loss for the international DH community. So take a few minutes today to see what is happening in DH!

Fateful meeting with St. Thomas: a drawing from Fr Busa's last Christmas card (2010).

On Twitter: #DayofDH

Some DH links:

Bethany Nowiskie

Association for Computing in the Humanities

Digital Scholarship in the Humanities

4Humanities

Institute for Digital Arts & Humanities (IU)

Intolerance, Censorship, & Other Requirements of Rationality

From time to time I will likely reflect on censorship here, because it is an issue that demands more nuanced examination in the modern library landscape. Not, however, the kind of attention that library advocates usually give to it. Most of the library world (in my view) has a visceral reaction to any mention of "censorship," as if its very name was capable of beckoning twisted Inquisitionists back from the dead to steal our freedoms (I silently roll my eyes every time I sit in an LIS class and hear my professor ask us rhetorical questions about our opposition to censorship). Library advocates, most notably the American Library Association, are decidedly opposed to censorship in any form. The ALA's Library Bill of Rights states:

III. Libraries should challenge censorship in the fulfillment of the their responsibility to provide information and enlightenment.

So there is a general patent assumption that censorship is intrinsically bad and an impediment to intellectual freedom. (My local public library even recently re-affirmed its decision to not filter p*rn on its computers, in the name of not invading patron privacy, and I guess, avoiding the expense of filtering software). Considering popular historical associations with censorship, such as government and school banned books lists, and the reputed Index Librorum Prohibitorum, issued by the Catholic Church, any discussion of censorship still carries significant political and emotional charges. 

I don't think we ought to up and start banning books again, but I do think that the ALA's outright opposition to censorship is an erroneous position. I also think that many librarians need to re-think their approach to public service in regards to serving patron 'wants'. This may have more bearing on personal philosophy than on library policy, but trusting too much in Enlightenment values can be an obstacle to intellectual freedom in itself.