I was informed the other day by a friend at the U of C that MacKimmie LIbrary Tower is now completely closed, due to the opening of the Harvey Digital Library. Since I've finished my degree I haven't been on campus a lot to clarify, but I don't know if I have the heart to go in and see for myself anyways.
There has always been something about this library, that could never be replicated by the University's new library building which resembles the Facebook headquarters and was a terrible mess to figure out (I worked temporarily in the library during the HDL's development. I find this new library kinda soulsucking, Everyone who likes this new library has no soul, or is obviously a business major or something. No offense).
Something about MacKimmie used to inspire me to totally kick it old school. I would sit down for hours at a time
Each winter at school, I lived for the days where I would get myself a giant cup of tea, head of to the 10th library tower, and hide out for hours at a time. Ofttimes, I would go laptop free, surround myself with all the relevant reading materials I needed, and draw up a first draw from scratch. I took so much enjoyment in doing this. I always kind of wonder how most students in university would fare without the convenience of the internet and having so much information at our fingertips. Really, anyone can graduate with a degree if they know how to use wikipedia. It's a bummer.
One time though, when trying to write a twelve page paper on Ernesto Guevara, I gathered a bunch of books which were mostly in Spanish, hoping that if I thought about it hard enough, these words would just fall off the page into English translations for me. This was not the case and eventually I did have to enlist the help of the internet for translation purposes. But, MacKimmie is so magical, THAT IT MADE ME THINK I COULD JUST LEARN SPANISH BY STARING AT IT.
MacKimmie would also remind me of the fragile and beautiful tangibility of books. It was in this very library that I fell in love with a first pressing of Kerouac's "Big Sur," worn and weathered and dying to be checked out and rescued. While working in the library for awhile if I had nothing to do, I would often escape to the 10th floor and spend a few hours reading through Bukowski poetry. This was always such a treat.
MacKimmie, if the rumours were true, I will miss you very much. You were not outdated. You were a REAL LIBRARY, and irreplaceable to me. Rest in peace.
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