Helpful-Looking Librarians
First, a plea to anyone who can help:
I am trying to track down a copy of Bertolt Brecht's poem "On Everyday Theatre".
Yes, I have looked online, and the only copies I have found so far have been missing quite a large chunk. Now, unluckily for me, I studied this poem at A-Level, so I know that there is a section missing. For the blissfully unaware majority of my class who had never heard of the poem, they will search online for it, find the incomplete version and be happy with it. For me, it's like cheating, because I KNOW that there is something missing, which doesn't really give me an excuse for not doing the proper research.
So, several frustrating hours of searching the internet later, I resorted to the slightly more reliable medium of books. This is where the first story of today "The Tale of the Incompetent Librarians" begins. From my extensive research online I found a number of books that could include a complete original version of the sought-after poem. I decided that a book of poems (sounds good, eh?) would be my best bet, and looked it up on the Leeds Library Catalogue website. Unfortunately, the library didn't seem to have the book, so, after reading through lists and lists of German books, I found a promising-looking poems book that had been translated to English. After a quick catalogue search, I found the book to be available in the library. Classmark noted (German, N58-BRE), I equipped myself for a library search the following afternoon.
Oh I wish I hadn't bothered.
Since I didn't have a clue where the German section was, I approached a friendly-looking librarian at the help desk and asked her to point me in the correct direction. She did so, and, ever the intrepid explorer, I set off with my faithful companion Sri, up a flight of stairs into a previously unexplored area of the library. Walking though the door, we first saw the "English section". After the "English section", we found the "French section", and, intelligently knowing my alphabet, I expected to see the "German section" after the French. But what did I find? A load of empty shelves. Slightly confused but not in the least deterred, I set off up and down the rows of shelves, looking for the lost German section. After a few minutes, we found a "German Language section". Strangely, there didn't seem to be any sign of "N58-BRE".
Confused, we trekked downstairs to the help desk, and asked the librarian for more precise directions, sure that we'd missed the section somewhere during our travels. Helpfully, the librarian told us that we should find the German section after the English and French ones. Explaining that we'd already tried this, she looked up my classmark on her computer and told me that "N58" was the code for Brecht, and that we would find him upstairs in the German Language section. Determined, we set off up the stairs again.
Looking through the German Language section, it became apparent that Mr Brecht was never going to be found there. And why was this clear? Because all of the books were categorised by numbers. Not a letter in sight. Slightly annoyed, I set off up and down the shelves again, looking for something that resembled N58. What I found was a classmark converter (lucky me!), where I found that my N58 translated into "282" in the Bretton Campus library system. Boosted with confidence, I tracked down the "28" numbers until I came across "281". After "281" came "283". No sign of "282". Now very annoyed, I left for my lesson.
Three hours later, we returned to the library and approached the help desk once more, where we found another helpful-looking librarian. I explained to the new librarian that I had found out the section that my book of Brechty poems was supposed to be in, but that the section seemed to be missing. Looking confused, she told me to wait aside while she helped the people behind us. Adding to the hilarity (?) of the situation, the people behind us were also looking for a section that had apparently upped and walked out of where it should have been. This prompted a snort from me and Sri.
Confused people assuringly made more confused, the not-so-helpful librarian went to find YET ANOTHER librarian, who then came and asked me what the problem was. I explained that I was looking for section 282, and that it didn't seem to be between sections 281 and 283. With a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, he matter-of-a-factly told us that section 282 was downstairs with all of the other drama books, and led us to the lesser-spotted-section-282. Confused but relieved, I bent down and began flicking through the books on the shelves. My book didn't seem to be there.
At that precise moment, another helpful-looking (ah, but they don't fool me any more!!) librarian walked up to me and asked if everything was alright. Slightly hysterically, I explained my quest for Brecht's Book of Poems to her, and she kindly told me that it could be one of those books that has disappeared into the limbo of the library. She then walked off.
So, after a LONG library search, a LENGTHY online search and an aggrieved phonecall to my sister, I should hopefully be getting a copy from my ever-reliable High School drama teacher. Mrs Wickham, you saint.
The moral of this tale? Don't use the library. Oh, and librarians are never helpful.
I mentioned that this was the "first" tale of the day. After such a lengthy explanation, I'm sure you will have read enough for one day, so I will save "The Tale of the Cursing PHd Student" for another time. Toodles!
I am trying to track down a copy of Bertolt Brecht's poem "On Everyday Theatre".
Yes, I have looked online, and the only copies I have found so far have been missing quite a large chunk. Now, unluckily for me, I studied this poem at A-Level, so I know that there is a section missing. For the blissfully unaware majority of my class who had never heard of the poem, they will search online for it, find the incomplete version and be happy with it. For me, it's like cheating, because I KNOW that there is something missing, which doesn't really give me an excuse for not doing the proper research.
So, several frustrating hours of searching the internet later, I resorted to the slightly more reliable medium of books. This is where the first story of today "The Tale of the Incompetent Librarians" begins. From my extensive research online I found a number of books that could include a complete original version of the sought-after poem. I decided that a book of poems (sounds good, eh?) would be my best bet, and looked it up on the Leeds Library Catalogue website. Unfortunately, the library didn't seem to have the book, so, after reading through lists and lists of German books, I found a promising-looking poems book that had been translated to English. After a quick catalogue search, I found the book to be available in the library. Classmark noted (German, N58-BRE), I equipped myself for a library search the following afternoon.
Oh I wish I hadn't bothered.
Since I didn't have a clue where the German section was, I approached a friendly-looking librarian at the help desk and asked her to point me in the correct direction. She did so, and, ever the intrepid explorer, I set off with my faithful companion Sri, up a flight of stairs into a previously unexplored area of the library. Walking though the door, we first saw the "English section". After the "English section", we found the "French section", and, intelligently knowing my alphabet, I expected to see the "German section" after the French. But what did I find? A load of empty shelves. Slightly confused but not in the least deterred, I set off up and down the rows of shelves, looking for the lost German section. After a few minutes, we found a "German Language section". Strangely, there didn't seem to be any sign of "N58-BRE".
Confused, we trekked downstairs to the help desk, and asked the librarian for more precise directions, sure that we'd missed the section somewhere during our travels. Helpfully, the librarian told us that we should find the German section after the English and French ones. Explaining that we'd already tried this, she looked up my classmark on her computer and told me that "N58" was the code for Brecht, and that we would find him upstairs in the German Language section. Determined, we set off up the stairs again.
Looking through the German Language section, it became apparent that Mr Brecht was never going to be found there. And why was this clear? Because all of the books were categorised by numbers. Not a letter in sight. Slightly annoyed, I set off up and down the shelves again, looking for something that resembled N58. What I found was a classmark converter (lucky me!), where I found that my N58 translated into "282" in the Bretton Campus library system. Boosted with confidence, I tracked down the "28" numbers until I came across "281". After "281" came "283". No sign of "282". Now very annoyed, I left for my lesson.
Three hours later, we returned to the library and approached the help desk once more, where we found another helpful-looking librarian. I explained to the new librarian that I had found out the section that my book of Brechty poems was supposed to be in, but that the section seemed to be missing. Looking confused, she told me to wait aside while she helped the people behind us. Adding to the hilarity (?) of the situation, the people behind us were also looking for a section that had apparently upped and walked out of where it should have been. This prompted a snort from me and Sri.
Confused people assuringly made more confused, the not-so-helpful librarian went to find YET ANOTHER librarian, who then came and asked me what the problem was. I explained that I was looking for section 282, and that it didn't seem to be between sections 281 and 283. With a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, he matter-of-a-factly told us that section 282 was downstairs with all of the other drama books, and led us to the lesser-spotted-section-282. Confused but relieved, I bent down and began flicking through the books on the shelves. My book didn't seem to be there.
At that precise moment, another helpful-looking (ah, but they don't fool me any more!!) librarian walked up to me and asked if everything was alright. Slightly hysterically, I explained my quest for Brecht's Book of Poems to her, and she kindly told me that it could be one of those books that has disappeared into the limbo of the library. She then walked off.
So, after a LONG library search, a LENGTHY online search and an aggrieved phonecall to my sister, I should hopefully be getting a copy from my ever-reliable High School drama teacher. Mrs Wickham, you saint.
The moral of this tale? Don't use the library. Oh, and librarians are never helpful.
I mentioned that this was the "first" tale of the day. After such a lengthy explanation, I'm sure you will have read enough for one day, so I will save "The Tale of the Cursing PHd Student" for another time. Toodles!
This entry was posted
on Friday, February 02, 2007 at 8:18 pm.
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Even though you told me this over the phone, its even better in a written format! I feel very sorry for you! Maybe one day you'll find that silly thing!
I can so sense your frustration as you were writing this - but you've made is sound funny too!!
Hope Mrs W comes up trumps for you.
M
x
Keep up the good work.
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