Canadian Public LIbraries and the Democratic Belief

The ‘Library Faith’ in Books, Reading, and Democracy

A longstanding belief in the positive influence of the public library in 20th-century North American librarianship was encapsulated in the short term, ‘the library faith,’ a visionary construct best articulated in an examination of public library service commissioned by the American Library Association (ALA), the Public Library Inquiry, which published its research from 1947 to 1952. The Inquiry developed this descriptive model of prevailing beliefs guiding the evolution of public libraries to understand and interpret the past in a structured way. Modelling can be helpful in identifying central ideas, beliefs, and opinions during an era when a prevailing consensus exists within a conceptual framework. The extensive Inquiry study noted that librarians, indeed, many educators and political leaders, believed in the beneficent power of books and reading. Ideally, the library, as a responsible democratic institution, provided free access to printed resources of recreation and knowledge to every person in its community. In this process, the libraries contributed to the democratic value of life by offering selected sources of knowledge for personal growth and an informed citizenry to make sound judgements in public affairs. The tax-supported public library also served broader social and cultural functions by preserving and organizing printed knowledge for its communities and, ultimately, for the nation. Libraries and librarians were a positive force in an effort to transform individuals and society for the better through the power of reading. The library faith was interwoven with democratic structures and ideals: free library access, the appetite for public reading, the freedom to exchange ideas and opinions, permissive library legislation, government tax support, and the power of knowledge to contribute to the betterment of society.

However, the Inquiry concluded that libraries too often failed to achieve the ideals described in the library faith, such as being a centre of popular education. The reality of everyday library services in 1950, including a limited clientele that read serious books, public apathy, the exclusion of many citizens, a lack of funding, and regional inequities, revealed an institution that did not (and could not) live up to its humanistic articles of faith identified in the Inquiry. For librarians and library users, the library faith was a guiding spirit—a virtue—rather than an everyday reality. Censorship was a common feature in libraries where objectionable books were not purchased or safely relegated to restricted shelves. Many citizens were either not eager readers, preferred ‘lightweight’ literature, or were excluded unjustly. In fact, many American communities were without library services. The Inquiry advised that the library faith was still relevant as a guide for developing services, but less useful as an argument to secure public support. Instead, libraries should fashion clear, uniform statements about the public library’s purpose.

It is axiomatic that democracy means the ‘rule of the people.’ Free and fair elections give expression to the ‘will of the people’ that provides the basis of the authority of government. But there are conflicting viewpoints concerning priorities and perspectives about the use of power and  the actual desires of citizens. Fundamental civil liberties protect against government interference: freedom of speech and the press, freedom of assembly or association, freedom of worship, and equality before the law. Yet, the public regards many civil rights that provide equal treatment under the law as equally important, such as the right to vote and hold free and fair elections, protection from discrimination, various rights of persons before the law, and the right to a public education. In Canada there are a host of problems besetting representative liberal democracy, issues such as blatant racism, discrimination, suppression of minority rights, sexism, alienation, government transparency, hatred, violence, and political corruption. In this environment, educational concerns and the freedom of expression and thought have been central issues in library history. The traditional democratic library role, as expounded by promoters and librarians, has encouraged people to think for themselves and helped them become enlightened citizens. Democracy requires people who understand and believe in its principles and institutions and are determined to work together to preserve, criticize, and improve it as the public interest evolves. Over the course of time, the library’s collections have served as an educational resource, informing citizens, circulating useful knowledge for self-improvement, and incorporating immigrants into the life of the nation. These are desirable roles for fostering and maintaining an educated citizenry in a democracy. But one might question whether an ‘informed citizenry’ is a necessary condition for a democracy or simply wishful thinking.

No comparable national study to the Public Library Inquiry occurred in 20th-century Canada. Even so, there are numerous statements after 1900 that document the commitment to the idealism embodied in the model outlined in the ‘library faith.’ An insightful thesis by John Wiseman in 1989 cited the metaphorical concept of ‘temples of democracy’ to describe the aspirations of Ontario library promoters to bring literature free of charge to the public before 1920. John Hallam and John Taylor, the enthusiastic champions of the free library established in Toronto in 1883, spoke to the need for an intelligent and enlightened populace. Hallam stated, “I know of nothing more useful, nothing more genuinely ornamental or creditable to a community, than the possession of a good free library, by means of which may be enjoyed the productions of the finest minds.” Taylor outlined the progress of public libraries in the United States, and opined: “We cannot, of course, compare Toronto with such cities as Boston and Chicago, but surely we should not be outdone by every small manufacturing town in New England in the matter of intelligence.” 

Ideally, the library was maintained and belonged to the people who benefited equally from the minds of the past through books, newspapers, and journals. In the early development of Canadian free public libraries, successful library referendums on bylaws reflected the ‘will of the people’ who often accepted the underlying utilitarian argument that free access to books in public libraries produced a greater amount of well-being for a greater number of people. When Hamilton ratepayers voted to establish a public library in 1889, the Hamilton Spectator editorial summed up the matter concisely: “It will make the people better able to govern themselves.” The requirement for local plebiscites followed by municipal bylaws to establish public libraries was a standard feature of public library legislation into the second half of the 20th century, augmented by provincial government decisions to convert older mechanics’ institutes and association libraries into public libraries.

But the rationale for tax-supported libraries and adequate accommodation for services was sometimes rejected by electors, as in two large Canadian cities, Kingston and Halifax. At Kingston, on 24 September 1899, the Whig-Standard editor complained, “The libraries have not been doing adequate public service, intellectually and as a source of moral recreation. There is a great want in the line of profitable resort [resource] and ready reference.” In Halifax, on 5 November 1912, when the issue of establishing a municipal public library arose at a town hall meeting, library supporters were defeated despite requisite democratic oratory from the noted suffragist, Dr. Eliza Ritchie, the first Canadian to receive a PhD (Cornell University). The Evening Mail reported: “She defined the aim of the citizens’ library as distinctly democratic—that of providing all citizens with the literature they need or desire. It is FOR THE PEOPLE.” Kingston (1925) and Halifax (1951) continued to resist tax-supported public library service with suitable buildings for many years.

The Democratic Conviction in Canadian Librarianship before 1940

Canadian librarians often relied on the persuasive power of democratic rhetoric to advance the cause of public library development, especially in times of war when the founding principles of democracy faced the prospect of suspension. At the 1916 annual ALA meeting at Ashbury Park, New Jersey, an astute promoter of libraries from Toronto, Edwin Austin Hardy, the secretary of the Ontario Library Association (OLA), told his American audience:
The dynamic of library work is the vision of democracy in the coming years. The present giant struggle will leave no nation untouched. One result will be the rush to North America of millions of new population. Another result will be the recasting of the federal relations within the British Empire. Another will be the revision of the international relations of all the great powers. Who can be sufficient for these mighty tasks of the future? An enlightened and ennobled democracy, of sound knowledge, wide sympathy and broad vision can render the highest service in the great days to come. The United States and the Dominion of Canada must be such democracies and the librarian must rank alongside the teacher, the legislator, and the preacher in the making of the new world.

In 1918, another prominent librarian, Mary J.L. Black, told her OLA colleagues:
If a library is not an embodiment of democracy and universal in its service, it is not fulfilling its functions. As a democratic institution the public library stands alone. In it, the scholar and ditcher, the school boy and the society dame are on an equal footing, and service should be rendered them accordingly. In it, the monetary relationship does not exist, for the public are only coming to their own, and if it does not contain material that is of special interest to each one of them, then they indeed have a grievance.

She was not alone in espousing the value of free access to resources. Another early instance was a presidential speech by Helen Gordon Stewart, Victoria Public Library, to the Pacific Northwest Library Association in Spokane, 1921.
There is no way of telling truth from error, but the best test of the power of a truth is to get itself accepted in free competition in the market place, and the Public Library should be the intellectual market place of every community. Democracy needs all the ideas it can get, and a stuffed press or a stuffed library, instead of safeguarding civilization, lead to atrophy and decay.

The democratic theme, coupled with the power of reading, was a key argument to establish public libraries. In 1927, when Canada celebrated its sixtieth anniversary by asserting its national identity more confidently, the Fort William (now Thunder Bay) library entered a parade float with the popular verse, “Books are keys to wisdom’s treasure.” This phrase came from a short rhyme by the American author, Emilie Poulsson, which included another expression librarians often employed to draw attention to entertaining literature: “books are gates to lands of pleasure.” When economic conditions worsened in the 1930s and threatened the economic livelihood of many people, librarians reinforced their ties with democratic ideals and public education. Foremost was George Locke, chief librarian of Toronto Public Library, who declared in 1933, “It is as necessary to provide for adult education as for elementary education, and so the library and the school are necessary for the perpetuation of democracy.” Locke and Mary Black, together with John Ridington, included multiple references to democracy in their Carnegie financed commission survey of libraries published in 1933, Libraries in Canada. They put the case for the public library:
The realization that, by ten thousand people each paying the cost of a single book, to be kept available for all in a general collection, each contributor would have access to ten thousand volumes, long ago commended itself to general public judgment as a worthwhile piece of co-operation. This realization is the foundation on which the public library is built—and that foundation is as broad and as strong as democracy itself. (p. 9)

They also contended that the library’s resources for reading were a force for personal development and societal good:
...if it is recognized that no one can be educated without books, it inevitably follows that a government should put libraries in the same class with schools, making both compulsory. This contention rests on the basis that modern thought realizes that education of all the people is necessary to the preservation and the permanence of a democratic form of government. (p. 135)

Yet the democratic spirit did not appeal to everyone, and successes were few outside major cities. As the 1933 survey admitted, three-fourths of Canada’s population of 10,500,000 were without public library service of any kind at a time when the rise of ruthless authoritarian regimes threatened the tenets of democracy itself. The depression era devastated national economies on a global scale, thereby halting opportunities for library growth. Cooperative partnerships were one solution with the development of regional library systems through local referendums, being most evident in British Columbia. The American economist, Alvin S. Johnson, reinforced another response in 1938. He authored The Public Library—A People's University, giving greater currency to an earlier phrase, and he devoted an entire chapter to “The Public Library in a Democracy.” He called upon librarians to be more proactive in educating adults to be knowledgeable citizens, to go beyond book lending and to withstand pressure to provide ephemeral publications. The phrase gained popularity with librarians, but the outbreak of war dimmed immediate prospects for improvement.

Changing Perceptions after 1940

The Second World War was a struggle for freedom and a dramatic period of change for Canada and America. During the war, Canada emerged as a prosperous nation by producing weapons, ships, airplanes, vehicles, and agricultural products for itself and for its allies. Canadians realized that peaceful international relations were vital for their security and came to regard the United States as their primary ally. In May 1940, the Librarian of Congress, Archibald MacLeish, issued an influential paper to ALA members that argued librarians should become stronger agents of democracy and assume a more vital role in civic life. Earlier in March, at the annual OLA conference, the president, Kathleen Moyer Elliot, addressed the theme of ‘The Library and the Community,’ stressing interaction with people and suggesting a refashioning of the ‘library faith’ by placing more emphasis on community involvement.
But while Books for People as a fundamental purpose of libraries has remained unchanged through the years in which both the character and the care of book collections have changed greatly, the emphasis has shifted. Once it was on Books, now it is on People.
Liberal librarians, believing in the importance of the individual, encouraging every man to read as widely as he will and form his own opinions, are defenders of democracy.

In 1941, a few leaders formed a small national body, the Canadian Library Council, to expedite progress in the library field. It issued a pamphlet, Canada Needs Libraries, in 1945, stating that the library possessed resources and educative and recreational potential for all ages. In short, “it has a very special part to play in the life of the community which no other agency can fill.”
...the information and enlightenment oi the people of Canada from printed sources is a vital force in the growth of the intelligence, character, economic advancement, and cultural life of the nation. An adequate supply oi books should be available to all citizens, whatever their geographical location or economic status.

In a review of Canadian trends for the Wilson Library Bulletin in November 1944, a Windsor librarian, Eleanor Barteaux, reiterated confidence in the beneficial association of books and democratic well-being that librarians were attempting to achieve.
Librarians know from past experience that when this war is over, there will be an abnormally large demand for library service of all kinds in all the provinces. Upon this postwar library, in a country where democracy is the way of life, must fall the task of providing the materials for continuing education and intellectual recreation for an enlightened citizenry.

In another booklet, The Public Library (1944) by Angus Mowat, the inspector of public libraries for Ontario, also outlined of a broader vision—the value of libraries to communities and organizations. By developing reliable resources for carrying on more active adult education programs with other agencies, public libraries could become “an essential sinew in the body of community life.” He said,
The free public library belongs to the community and it is supported by the community, just as the school, fire, and police services are supported. This is the normal and intelligent practice in a democracy. Not all libraries are successful but the free public library has an infinitely greater chance of success than has the association library.

Another cornerstone of the library faith came under scrutiny by John Grierson, the dynamic Commissioner of the National Film Board of Canada from 1939–45. The NFB had produced a documentary, the Library on Wheels, in 1944, demonstrating how bookmobiles could serve twenty rural communities in the Fraser Valley region of British Columbia. In an address to American and Canadian librarians at Buffalo in June 1946, Grierson warned, “the old library outlook is over and done with.” He challenged the primacy of the book and the passive role of simply circulating resources and dispensing information. He suggested librarians adopt new methods to spread popular education by reaching out to community organizations and being more proactive beyond the confines of library buildings. 
I do not say that the day of the book is over, but the day of the book only is certainly over. It is not information that is needed today; in fact, it is not information that is sought. It is enlightenment, and that is a very different thing involving, as it does, the dramatic process of sparking the mind and the heart into new hope, new vision, new realization, and new efforts in citizenship.
You can no longer think that the work is done if the information is made available or even conveyed. The work is not done until we spark the gap between the citizen and the world of his citizenship, bring into his imagination the great and beneficent struggle of man which we see today, and finally secure his creative participation in that struggle.

Writing in the Canadian Forum in July 1946, Nora Bateson, a champion for regional library development, argued for the need to employ modern methods of communication to reach rural communities, nonusers, and underserved groups. She reflected on the value of the older concept of using books to edify the public:
In less turbulent days it was another function of the library that was usually put first and it is still as important as it ever was: the enriching of individual lives in a thousand quiet ways. In literature, art, philosophy, science, history, many find their delight and refreshment. One of the more tangible effects of such reading is that it makes people live more fully, enables them to see more and deeper meaning in their own lives and experiences. And the largest possible number of fully developed individuals is the aim of any robust democracy.

Library recruitment, 1945

 As the national population grew and the pace of life picked up in postwar Canada, public libraries sought to expand their range of services. The establishment of new regional systems and library outreach were noticeable features. More effort was made to reach non-users (the majority) or underserved rural populations. Public relations, attendance at community events, in-house film festivals, park programs, partnerships with groups, work with hospitals, and delivery of books to people with disabilities. Libraries placed greater emphasis on language resources and sponsored classes for immigrants because ‘New Canadians’ sought assistance in their new homeland. The concept of the library as a major hub for community activity beyond book lending was taking a firmer hold. It became a place where adults and children could discover books, films, radio programs, recordings, educational television broadcasts, or newspapers, thus satisfying their desire to learn. It was becoming in the popular parlance, a people place, and the University of Toronto created a recruitment poster with an expression that took hold: “You like people, you like books.” In 1949, the Canadian Library Association (CLA) inaugurated Young Canada’s Book Week to promote good reading, cultivate personal values, and introduce children to Canadian literary authors. The Book Week national campaign unabashedly aimed to inspire a love of reading by connecting children with authors and illustrators through communal events, such as essay and poster competitions.

In a conservative era, the older reliance on the enlightening power of books and the democratic theme retained some currency in library thinking. When the Canadian Library Association issued Suggested Standards of Service for Public Libraries in Canada in 1955, the National Librarian, William K. Lamb, introduced the guidelines using a familiar theme:
In the world in which we live, adequate library service is becoming more and more vital. Few institutions can make a greater contribution to democracy than an adequately staffed and equipped public library. It offers wide opportunities for general education, ready access to books expressing varied points of view on questions of the day, vocational help of many kinds, books on all sorts of hobbies and handicrafts, and a wide range of recreational reading. It can help to make our working hours more effective and successful, and to ensure that leisure time is passed in some pleasant and socially desirable way.
Nevertheless, the brief purpose statement in the 1955 standards did not reference a democratic theme. It relied on the utilitarian principle: “the basic purpose of public library service is to provide a sufficient number of books of quality, so housed and organized, and with their use so promoted, that they reach the greatest possible number of people, thus making their local contribution to the education and to the cultural growth of the community.”

Informed Citizenship through Intellectual Freedom

Through the 1950s and 1960s, reliance on the efficacy of books diminished as it became evident that libraries were avoiding the selection of objectionable or controversial literature that some citizens would prefer to borrow or consult. In 1951, the newly formed OLA Intellectual Freedom Committee tendered a resolution, which was successfully passed at the general meeting, requesting that the CLA adopt a Canadian Library Bill of Rights that all Canadian libraries might embrace. But the proposal was not acted upon: librarians were reluctant to investigate self-censorship in book selection. In principle, the CLA opposed official censorship. In April 1953, the association forwarded a brief to the Senate Special Committee studying ‘salacious and indecent literature’ criticizing the prohibitive government approach used to censor books. The prevailing attitude to book selection often crystallized around the mindset that the antidote for bad books was good book selection and the establishment of more libraries across the country to supply acceptable literature. The 1955 CLA Standards provided a succinct summary: “A high quality of book selection is assumed.”

The practical matter of localized adult services and programs for groups resonated more strongly, driven by planned community needs and cooperation with other agencies. Librarians were more inclined to curtail interest in individual ‘readers’ advisory’ work and emphasize literacy and basic lifelong adult education programming. The promotion of an enlightened citizenship and assistance in realizing democratic ideals was melded with more functional, systematic goals as specialized services developed. The formal expression of these trends appeared in the revised CLA standards of 1967, which provided an expanded statement of the purpose and objectives of a Canadian public library:

1. To provide opportunity and encouragement for continuous education for every individual in the community—children, young people, men and women.
2. Through guidance, stimulation, and communication of ideas, to promote an enlightened and enriched citizenry.
3. To assemble, preserve and administer in organized collections the library's print and non-print materials to support the educational, cultural and recreational program of the community.
4. To provide an accurate, reliable information service.
5. To support and co-operate with groups and organizations in the community in presenting educational and cultural programs.

But the most important change in library thinking for engaging an informed citizenry came with the CLA’s adoption of a statement in support of intellectual freedom in 1966. There was growing realization that public libraries sometimes acted as an obstacle to free democratic debate and open expression of ideas precisely through the composition of collections and delivery of services. Canadian librarians had not been outspoken advocates in resisting censorship until they adopted the precept that access to the broadest range of ideas coupled with the rights of readers was essential in a democratic society: “Intellectual Freedom comprehends the right of every person (in the legal meaning of the term), subject to reasonable requirements of public order, to have access to all expressions of knowledge and intellectual creativity, and to express his thoughts publicly.”

For decades, Canadian librarians had been reluctant to uphold freedom of expression and thought formally. They adhered to restrictive ‘community standards’ and believed the perfunctory lending of good books and reliance on democratic rhetoric would suffice to improve society and validate the library’s standing as a fundamental service. Intellectual freedom was a significant accomplishment of librarianship that linked libraries more closely to democratic freedom of expression, thought, and opinion by supporting the lawful diffusion of ideas and information without restriction. It had evolved in part from the beliefs associated with the ‘library faith,’ but moved far beyond its simpler comforts. Into the 21st century, the contribution public libraries make to offer citizens access to all points of view continues to be considered a vital component in supporting and encouraging democracy. 

My previous blogs are available on John Hallam and John Taylor.

The blog on the 1966 CLA intellectual freedom statement is at this link.

The blog on the 1933 Libraries in Canada commission is at this link.

My blog about the Canadian Library Council’s Canada Needs Libraries (1945).

My blog on the issue to counter undesirable literature in postwar Canada is at this link. 

Three Early Maritime Memorial Libraries at Dalhousie, Acadia, and Mount Allison

College and university education evolved slowly in the Canadian Maritime provinces before 1900. By the time of the First World War, Dalhousie was the most prominent university in the region. Established in Halifax in 1818, it began to expand after 1911 when it relocated to the more spacious Studley campus where much-needed new buildings could be constructed. By this time, two other smaller, distinguished liberal arts universities had also gained prominence: Acadia in Wolfville, Nova Scotia, and Mount Allison in Sackville, New Brunswick. Acadia was established in 1838 and began to grow in the early 20th century. Mount Allison, founded in 1839, was noted for being the first university in the British Empire to award a bachelor’s degree to a woman as early as 1875. Collections at all three institutions were relatively small. When James Bain reviewed library progress across Canada in 1895, he reported that Dalhousie (college) held 20,000 volumes, Mount Allison held 4,500 volumes, and Acadia held 3,850 volumes. Prior to 1914, the three institutions shared a common problem—there was no separate building for library purposes, although university officials and alumni alike acknowledged the necessity of erecting one.

The Macdonald Memorial Library, Dalhousie University, 1915

 

Macdonald Memorial Library sketch by Arthur Lismer, c.1918

The largest university library building in the Maritimes in the first half of the 20th century was named for Charles MacDonald, a mathematics professor at Dalhousie from 1864–1901. After he bequeathed the university $2000 to purchase library books, a memorial fund in his name had succeeded in raising this amount to $33,000 by 1905. Progress stalled at this point because no suitable location was available for constructing a library. But the acquisition of the Studley estate in 1911 cleared the way to proceed. Officials laid a cornerstone in the spring of 1914 and construction was completed by the fall of 1915. Andrew R. Cobb (1876–1943) of Halifax and Frank Darling (1850–1923) of Toronto, who served as consultant, were the design architects. Andrew Cobb would figure prominently in all three Maritime memorial libraries. The influence of the Georgian style is evident in the rectangular dimensions, columned portico, Palladian window, and classical exterior symmetry of Andrew Cobb’s design. These exterior elements exhibited a heritage of order and balance rather than monumentality. The small building cost $90,000 and was ready for students by the summer of 1916. By necessity, the library contained only a few offices, limited work space for staff, and a reading room on the second floor. The catastrophic explosion of two ships in Halifax Harbour in December 1917 briefly damaged the reading room before its restoration.

In a unique (and fortuitous) circumstance in Canadian library history, Arthur Lismer, one of the distinguished Group of Seven artists, created three sketches of the Macdonald Library in 1918 for a publication to mark the centennial anniversary of the university, One Hundred Years of Dalhousie, 1818-1918. His sketches of the exterior, especially the columned portico entrance, highlighted the elegant stone facing that conveyed a rustic style, a feature of the Studley campus buildings that Frank Darling and Andrew Cobb designed. Local quarries provided the dark grey limestone for the library which featured a variety of encrusted red and brown salts that added colour and texture to the building. Two classrooms located in the entrance hallway on the first floor were used for teaching purposes. The attractive reading room on the second floor was almost 3,000 sq. ft. in size (90 ft. x 32 ft.) and featured fireplaces at each end. Bookcases along the wall held the reference collection. An office for the University Librarian, Archibald MacMeachen, was also located on the second floor. He wrote in the Dalhousie Gazette on October 27, 1915, that “No finer memorial for a college teacher can be imagined than a building devoted generation after generation to the sacred work of teaching.” Indeed, the building continued in use as the main library until its replacement by the Killam Library in 1971.

When the library first opened, only a small collection existed on site and a decision was made to recatalogue materials by using the Library of Congress system. It was not until 1921 that a five-storey expansion added book stacks to the rear on the north side. However, even this added shelving for 125,000 books was insufficient. As a consequence, scientific volumes were located in departmental libraries for chemistry, physics, and geology. When Philip Turner, a lecturer at McGill University, reviewed Canadian university libraries in 1931, he published updated floor plans for the library. At this time, Macdonald was a closed stack library, a typical arrangement in many instances. Two years later, in the national study, Libraries in Canada, headed by John Ridington, it was recorded that Dalhousie held some noteworthy special collections, especially the J. D. Logan Collection of Canadian literature, the Stewart Collection of Canadiana, and the Thompson Library of Dramatic Literature. By this time, the library was operating its popular Patterson Travelling Library service that furnished small boxes of books for many Maritime communities, a service that continued until the mid-1950s.

There was a further addition to the building on the west side in 1956. This new wing was opened to alleviate space problems on a temporary basis: it housed the Kipling Room, a notable collection of Rudyard Kipling’s works recently donated to the university. When the modern Killam Memorial Library opened in 1971, the older Macdonald Memorial Library continued to serve as a science library before its collection was relocated again. In the 1990s, the former stack rooms of the Macdonald Building were converted into administrative offices and the reading room was refitted as a meeting space for various events.

Emmerson Memorial Library, Acadia University, 1914

The Emmerson Memorial Library in Acadia University opened in 1914 and was formally dedicated in June 1915 by Charles H. Gould, McGill’s University Librarian. The library, constructed with stone fashioned with brown and olive sandstone trim, was designed to accommodate 125,000 volumes in steel stacks. Designed by the architect Andrew Cobb from Halifax, the building was named for Rev. Robert H. Emmerson (1826–1857), an influential New Brunswick Baptist minister whose family donated $25,000 towards building a suitable memorial. Cobb planned Emmerson as a two-storey, stone building in the Italianate style featuring wide eaves supported by large brackets and a low-pitched hip roof topped with a small cupola. Two Doric columns flanked the entrance steps with a copper seal of the University crest embedded above the door surmounted by a stone transom and window. Large three-bay Palladian windows on each side allowed for exterior lighting to flood the interior.

The library featured comfortable reading rooms, study alcoves, areas for special collections and staff processing of materials. The collection of about 20,000 volumes was initially classified using the Dewey Decimal system and accessed through a dictionary catalogue. On Sundays, the reading room was given over to students to listen to and reflect on talks by professors. After the library officially opened, several special collections were acquired. A collection of Canadiana was purchased from Major J.P. Edwards in 1917, and the collection renamed in memory of Eric R. Dennis. Two other collections, the John D. Logan Collection of Canadian Literature and the William Inglis Morse Collection, followed. The Emmerson reading room was the site of a meeting in April 1918 leading to the creation of the first Maritime Library Association with a small membership.

Mary Kinley Ingraham joined Acadia in 1917 as the new chief librarian and remained until her retirement in 1944. During her distinguished tenure, Acadia’s library underwent significant growth with expanded circulating holdings, special collections, and enhanced library services for students and faculty. In 1930 and 1931, Acadia operated two book trucks fitted out to carry about 1,500 books to numerous stations where exchanges could be made. However, financial constraints in the Great Depression ended the bookmobile service, although community groups continued to access books through loans of boxes.

With increasing enrollment and modernized library service in the 1960s, Acadia realized a new library building was necessary. Fortunately, a generous donation from Harold S. Vaughan began the planning process for a new library in memory of his son, Harold C. Vaughan. In 1965, the Vaughan Memorial Library opened and the aged Emmerson Library was converted into classrooms and offices for the School of Education in 1967, becoming known as the current Emmerson Hall.

Mount Allison Memorial Library, 1927

Mount Allison Memorial Library, n.d.

A third memorial library opened in June 1927 at the Sackville, New Brunswick, campus of Mount Allison. It originally was proposed as a memorial to the Mount Allison students, faculty, and alumni who had died during the First World War, and as funds accumulated, construction began in 1926. Andrew Cobb reprised his earlier efforts as the building architect, and on this occasion he chose to display a three-storey Tudor revival style exterior. The building cost $110,000 and was designed to hold 60-70,000 volumes in the rear five-storey stack room with the potential for expansion. Red Sackville stone was employed for the outside, with Dorchester olive stone for the trimmings. The entrance doorway featured a notched roof porch that offered patrons the impression of a safe castle-like setting.

Astride the front entrance, the memorial hall exhibited plaques recording fallen university soldiers from the Great War. Additionally, two rooms were designated for historical records containing valuable documents, books and selected archives. A stack space was situated at the rear beside the main staircase. Small offices and study rooms were located towards the front facade. Of special note was the Mary Mellish Archibald Memorial collection featuring resources devoted to art, music, household science, and modern literature. The basement rooms contained a workroom, business office, unpacking room, lavatories, and stacks space. The second floor was dedicated to a large reading room (80 ft. x 36 ft.) flanked by wall shelving with seating accommodation for about 150 students. A catalogue was available, and a circulation control desk located at the back of the reading room.  

At its opening, the library held about 15,000 books but the collection naturally grew in size until the stacks reached capacity. Even with the addition of an annex in 1960, student enrollment and university expansion required a new building. When the Ralph Pickard Bell Library opened in 1970, the Memorial Library was renovated to become the University Centre, a popular, functional student home for decades. However, following a controversial administrative decision, in 2011 the building was completely demolished to make way for a new state-of-the-art fine arts and performance facility. The original memorial tablet was reassigned to the main floor of the Wallace McCain Student Centre in 2008, together with other tables listing casualties from other wars. Veterans Affairs Canada has a site displaying these plaques.

University Libraries and Memorialization

These three memorial libraries connect the enduring idea of the library as a meaningful tribute to deceased persons and families to a legacy of community and knowledge. Memorializing campus buildings such as libraries was a well-established practice in America and Britain long before its adoption in Canada. The earliest and foremost instance was the McGill University Library which opened in 1893; it was a gift of Peter and Grace Redpath and named accordingly. Universities were eager to preserve their history, achievements, and benefactors. Family members, too, believed memorialization provided a material way to acknowledge and commemorate loved ones. The symbolic linkage of a person’s life in a shared library space provided a continuous tribute that informed and serviced students, faculty, and the university community. It was a tangible way to connect the university community with important people through shared experiences and legacies.

Mount Allison chose to commemorate soldiers lost in the Great War, 1914–18. Dalhousie and Acadia honoured individuals who had made significant contributions in education and religion. Individual and family donors combined with fundraising efforts and, eventually, institutional revenue, reflected the era of generosity Andrew Carnegie fostered in the public library sector during the first decades of the 20th century. While the former libraries are no longer part of contemporary Maritime or Canadian library activity or modern library networking, they marked the beginning of significant donations for university libraries and for memorial naming conventions that persisted across Canada in the 20th century. In that aspect, these libraries stand as historic memorials in their own right.

A Wikipedia article on the impressive career of Andrew R. Cobb is at this link.

My previous blog on Mary Kinley Ingraham is at this link.

An article with historical photographs of the Macdonald Library are at this link.

An Acadia article on the Emmerson Library is at this link.

 A Mount Allison article on its memorial library is at this link.

 

 

Pour une histoire des femmes bibliothécaires au Québec (2020)

Pour une histoire des femmes bibliothécaires au Québec: Portraits et parcours de vies professionnelles edited by Marcel Lajeunesse, Éric Leroux and Marie D. Martel. Québec: Presses de l’Université du Québec, 2020. xviii, 178 pp., illus.

This book is a welcome and unusual addition to library shelves dedicated to Canadian librarianship. For too long, the role of women in the development of Canada’s libraries was mostly overlooked. We now have a well documented history/biography of seven women who made significant contributions to the culture of Quebec and its librarianship. The three editors in charge of this collection are all associated with the École de bibliothéconomie et des sciences de l'information at the l'Université de Montréal. Marcel Lajeunesse is a librarian, professor, and Quebec historian who served as the director and professor at this school and has authored many articles and books on librarianship. A Wikipedia entry provides more information on his remarkable career. Professor Éric Leroux’s interests include the history of libraries and librarians as well as the history of printing and the book trade. Professor Marie D. Martel’s current research involves projects related to social media platforms such as Wikipedia. Together, they have gathered several authors to provide interesting and lengthy accounts of women who worked in different types of libraries before and after the ‘Quiet Revolution’ dramatically changed Quebec society and politics after 1960. It was after this time that women began to emerge in leadership positions and librarianship assumed more prominence in the social, intellectual and cultural life of Quebec. The different authors provide a chapter on each.

The role of women in the development of Canadian libraries has not been charted in detail, even though as early as 1921 Mabel B. Dunham, chief librarian at Kitchener Public Library, flagged librarianship as a profession for women in her presidential address to the Ontario Library Association.. Only a few individual biographies have been published that outline their contributions and recognize their leadership. The attainment of democratic freedoms by women in Quebec was a lengthy process spanning the years of first and second-wave feminism. A few highlights suffice to show that gender equality often lagged behind other provinces. In Quebec, it was not until 1940 that women gained the right to vote and be eligible as candidates in provincial elections. During the Quiet Revolution, the Civil Code of Quebec was amended to eliminate a wife’s duty to obey her husband and to allow them to practise a profession different from their husband. Most importantly, in 1976, Quebec’s Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms was enacted which explicitly prohibited discrimination based on gender. Female librarians in other provincial jurisdictions also faced discriminatory challenges, but they were able to secure positions of leadership and advance their careers in greater numbers. The Introductory chapter summarizes the progress of women in Quebec librarianship and provides some interesting background for the individual studies that follow.

Éva Circé-Côté (1871–1949) leads the list of seven influential women who worked in Quebec libraries. Andrée Lévesque discusses her career as a journalist, writer, and librarian who became head librarian at Montreal’s first public library, the Bibliothèque technique de Montréal, in 1903, only to be demoted in 1909. Perhaps her short-lived marriage to Pierre-Salomon Côté, her outspoken progressive viewpoints on social issues and feminism, or male prejudice led to this decision. After 1910, she became curator of the prestigious Philéas Gagnon collection of Canadian antiquarian books acquired by the city of Montréal. She classified and catalogued this collection, and, when it was transferred to the new Bibliothèque de la Ville de Montréal, she continued to work until her retirement in 1932. During this time, she continued to contribute literary and journalistic pieces that won her admiration from critics and friends alike.

Marcel Lajeunesse documents the career of Mary Sollace Saxe (1865–1942), chief librarian at the Westmount Public Library for three decades, by concluding that she possessed many qualities: a strong and creative personality, significant leadership, recognized political acumen, and a clear vision for the public library (p. 40). Some of her innovations included the introduction of reference service, the implementation of an open shelf system for the public, better children’s services, and expanded library space. Mary Saxe also contributed articles and published Our Little Quebec Cousin, a children’s book describing life in Quebec.

Marie-Claire Daveluy (1880–1968) was an author, historian, librarian, and library educator. Johanne Biron charts her extraordinary library career after obtaining a library diploma from McGill University when she became an assistant librarian at the Bibliothèque de la Ville de Montréal from 1920–43 and advanced to chief of cataloguing from 1930–41. Most importantly, in 1937, with Aegidius Fauteux, she founded the École de bibliothécaires at the Université de Montréal and served as an assistant director and professor for many years. In 1943 she participated in the formation of the Association canadienne des bibliothèques d’institutions (now the Association pour l’avancement des sciences et techniques de la documentation, Asted). She was the first woman to be a member of the Historical Society of Montreal in 1917, and she was the author of popular children’s works exemplified by Les Aventures de Perrine et de Charlot published in 1923. She was at the forefront of cultural life and was accorded many honours during her lifetime.

Hélène Grenier (1900–92) is best known for her work in Montreal school libraries and promotion of good reading for children. Éric Leroux provides an excellent account of her career, commencing with her work in 1926 at the Montreal Municipal Library alongside two notable colleagues, Éva Circé-Côté and Marie-Claire Daveluy. In 1931, she was hired by the Montreal Catholic School Commission, which operated both French and English-language schools, to establish a Teachers’ Library. Then, from 1952–61, she was elevated to director of school libraries for the commission. In this capacity, she greatly expanded and improved elementary and secondary school libraries. During her tenure, 159 new libraries were established and 80% of Catholic schools had a library when she retired. A lifetime interest in music and cultural pursuits led to her nomination as an Officer of the prestigious Ordre national du Québec in 1988

Claude Bonnelly studies the career of Céline Robitaille-Cartier (1930–2017), who served as director of the Laval University Library from 1978–88. She was the first female director at Laval and worked to improve the standing of her staff and library services at the university. The author knew her personally and succeeded her as director upon her retirement. He credits her humanistic approach to management in a period when automation, networking, and the initial challenges of the information society loomed large.

Paule Rolland-Thomas (1929–2021) is the subject of a biography devoted to library education by Michèle Hudon. She joined the École de bibliothéconomie when it was established at the University of Montreal in 1961 and continued teaching, training librarians, and researching until her retirement in 1994. A notable achievement was her preparation of the French language first and second editions of the Anglo-American Cataloging Rules published in 1973 and 1980. Her expertise in cataloguing, classification, bibliographic work, and subject access to resources made a significant contribution to librarianship in Quebec.

The closing chapter deals with two women, Hélène Charbonneau (1929–2021), a specialist in children’s literature, and Louise Guillemette-Labory (b. 1953), who rose through the ranks to become the Associate Director of Libraries in the Culture Department of the city of Montreal. During her tenure, the network of public libraries in Montreal underwent various studies leading to the renovation, expansion, and construction of new libraries throughout the city. Hélène Charbonneau was head of children’s work for the city of Montreal from 1972–79 before services for adults and children were combined, a typical realignment across North American libraries. She continued to coordinate and advise until her retirement in 1992. Just this year, in 2025, the Bibliothèque Ahuntsic on the Island of Montreal, where she worked for two decades after receiving her library diploma in 1952, was renamed the Bibliothèque Hélène Charbonneau in her honour. Marie D. Martel writes about their successes, yet notes that female librarians often remain underrepresented in reference works, especially Wikipedia.

These portraits of female librarians remind us of the important contributions women have made, not just in librarianship, but in the history of social, intellectual, and cultural life in Quebec. As well, all the women were determined to overcome the issue of gender-based discrimination. While they belong to different generations, the ‘glass ceiling’ existed in various manifestations that hindered their advancement for many years. The case of Claire Godbout, who was ‘bibliothécaire en chef’ at Trois-Rivières, recalls the earlier fate of  Éva Circé-Côté. Her position was abolished in 1956 so that a man with the title ‘conservateur de bibliothèque’ could be hired in her place. Godbout was demoted to head of cataloguing at a lesser salary and informed of the decision without any forewarning. Despite the combination of male chauvinism with social restrictions, female librarians in Quebec persevered in their pursuit of executive careers, cultural pursuits, and social justice. They succeeded because they were ambitious, strong-willed, and determined to be recognized in the library profession as it developed in Quebec, especially after the Second World War.

It is perhaps fitting in this review to recount that other women, born in Quebec, made contributions that transcended local, regional concerns. A few librarians who briefly appear in this volume, such as Alvine Bélisle and Laurette Toupin, are also deserving of similar detailed biographies. I could add other Quebec natives, such as: (1) Juliette Chabot (1902–87), who earned her BLS at McGill University and subsequently authored valuable works on librarianship; (2) Beatrice Simon (1899–94), for many years Assistant Librarian at McGill and very active in special library work (especially medical science); (3) Margaret Ridley Charlton (1858–1931), a pioneering medical librarian working in Montreal and Toronto who helped found the Medical Library Association in 1898 in the United States; and (4) Mariam H. Tees (b. 1923- ), who was one of the first presidents of the Corporation des bibliothécaires professionnels du Québec and who was inducted into the Special Libraries Hall of Fame in 1988 after a lengthy career at the Royal Bank headquarters in Montreal.

As an added highlight to the informative historical research each author provides, two notable features of this book are the portraits and bibliographies that appear with each chapter, thus providing images and entries that future researchers will find of considerable value.

Further information:

My blog on Marie-Claire Daveluy is at this link.

My blog on Mary Saxe is at this link.

My blog on Mabel Dunham’s 1921 address to OLA delegates in Toronto about the role of women is at this link.

There are useful Wikipedia articles for Alvine Bélisle, Juliette Chabot, and Margaret Ridley Charleton.

Contested Spaces: A Critical History of Canadian Public Libraries as Neutral Places, 1960–2020

Contested Spaces: A Critical History of Canadian Public Libraries as Neutral Places, 1960–2020 by Whitney Kemble. Sacramento, CA: Litwin Books & Library Juice Press, 2024.

Whitney Kemble, a librarian at the Scarborough Campus of the University of Toronto, has contributed an important work in the growing field of ‘critical librarianship’ about the contentious issue of ‘library neutrality’ in public library event bookings from 1960 to 2020. She has identified thirty-three controversial events held in Canadian public libraries using various resources, such as contemporary newspaper articles. Although eight gatherings were cancelled, the vast majority of events took place. There are too many episodes to discuss in this review; still, readers will likely remember more recent events, such as the 2017 cancellation by Ottawa Public Library of the controversial film, Killing Europe, which examined terrorist activities, street riots, a migrant crisis, and societal polarization. Another instance was Meghan Murphy’s 2019 presentation on gender identity at Toronto Public Library’s Palmerston branch, which sparked notable opposition from LGBTQ organizations. Her event did take place with protestors outside the branch and it highlighted different perspectives on TPL’s adherence to intellectual freedom (IF). Older readers likely remember Mississauga’s cancellation of its 1978 screening for the BBC film, The Naked Civil Servant, a depiction of a man’s gay lifestyle that was ‘ahead of its time,’ at least for the library board that countermanded the original decision to hold the event.

What do we learn from all these Canadian experiences? Defining neutrality in a liberal democracy is difficult—in Contested Spaces, we find references to ideas like impartiality, absence of bias, equality or equity of treatment, tolerance, even-handedness, objectivity, and indifference. Since the 1960s, librarians have been particularly vocal about embracing neutrality or fostering social responsibility in a community context. There is a tension in the neutrality-advocacy debate regarding librarian proactiveness rather than passivity or indifference on societal issues. The traditional stance supposes that the public library uncritically dispenses information or avoids inappropriate influence or improper advice. This philosophy was evident a century ago in  March 1919 when George Locke, TPL’s chief librarian, told the Toronto Star, “If people have enough intelligence to look on the two sides of the question they will have enough to know how to act, and our public libraries here teach this.” But of course, on certain societal values, such as literacy, racism, poverty, social justice for disenfranchised minorities, and the very nature of democracy, libraries cannot be value-neutral. I believe attaining neutrality is a laudable goal, but an unattainable ideal.

Indeed, the author concludes that the stance of IF adopted by Canadian library associations since the 1960s can be problematic. This policy maintains the right to hold, receive, and disseminate all points of view without restrictions, but, as Kemble notes, “the values of safety, inclusion, and diversity regularly are trumped by the values of intellectual freedom and freedom of expression in libraries” (p. 130). For many librarians, a neutral stance is necessary to maintain IF because this enables individuals to form their own ideas. The author critiques the ‘myth of neutrality’ and questions the prioritization of IF above other library core values, for example, social justice or social responsibility. For her, “community, relationships, and protecting those who are most vulnerable are the values I prioritize personally...” (p. 138).

Although the author links main opposition to neutrality with the formation of the American Library Association (ALA) Social Responsibility Round Table (SRRT) in 1969, to be sure, library neutrality was an issue even before the ALA adopted its Bill of Rights in 1939. This bill emphasized unbiased book selection, a balanced collection, and the statement that “library meeting rooms should be available on equal terms to all groups.” At the time, the ALA’s short-lived Progressive Librarians’ Council (est. 1939) opposed the concept of neutrality, a challenge renewed in the 1990s when the independent Progressive Librarians’ Guild formed in the United States and opened chapters in Canada. To be truly progressive, one must believe in the need to redress social inequities and de-prioritize neutrality. Many American librarians believe the SRRT falls short in this regard because its voice is muted in a large bureaucratize organization devoted to many interests.

Also, concerning value-neutrality, it would have been helpful for Kemble to touch on the growing influence of the New Public Administration (NPA) theory that developed in the United States after the 1960s. Since this time, public managers in North America at all levels of government have given more emphasis to social equity alongside the more traditional concept of social equality. Equity recognizes that different levels of support for persons or groups should be provided to achieve fairness in service outcomes. Equality seeks to treat people in the same way regarding opportunities or rights, with less regard for their needs or differences. The two ideas overlap, but there is a difference between practicing ‘fairness’ and ‘sameness.’ The NPA deemphasized neutrality and stressed the ethical responsibility of public servants to stand against injustice and advocate for marginalized communities. Yet, this theory is rarely mentioned in the library literature.

Citizens’ Forum discussion at LPL, 1945

Fittingly, in terms of social responsibility, Kemble begins her history with the London Public Library’s 1960 decision to screen the American film, Iron Curtain Lands, in a park. Not surprisingly, at the height of the Cold War, some people objected to this post-Stalinist documentary. On this occasion, the event was postponed and rescheduled for viewing without further problems. London had been a leader in organizing and sponsoring events with groups since its new modernist-style library opened in 1941, featuring rooms and an auditorium for use by the public. The postwar era was an era of community based groups and clubs devoted to photography, books, National Film Board viewings, citizens’ forums, women, youth, music, fraternities or sororities, and a host of other local associations. Librarians were beginning to give more attention to community concerns rather than focusing on individuals.

However, the 1960s would introduce new social movements on a national and even international scale, focusing on nuclear disarmament, feminism, animal rights, environmental concerns, pro-life advocacy, civil rights, and bilingualism. These organizations formed local groups and emphasized contentious issues related to identity, human rights, free expression, and broader social problems, such as poverty. The tried-and-true adoption of neutrality allowed many librarians to believe they were insulated from controversial subjects comparable to career public servants. But in April 1962, their reticence was called out by a keen observer, J. Bascom St. John, in the Toronto Globe & Mail: “They have a mistaken idea that professional ethics in the book field requires them to preserve a discreet silence, or at any rate, a virtual inaudibility. There are a few welcome exceptions to this generalization, but what librarians need more than anything else is a new concept of dignity. Dignity is not submission; it is pride. It is not a masterful withdrawal, it is an absolute determination to be heard and respected.” It was in this societal environment that IF statements were finally adopted by library associations in Ontario (1963) and Canada (1966). These statements were primarily concerned with book selection and free expression, but the Canadian Library Association statement added the responsibility of libraries to facilitate “the right of expression by making available all facilities and services at their disposal.” IF was a step towards librarians seeing themselves as part of a social process of educating citizens by offering a wider range of resources and views.

Contested Spaces charts various issues that have challenged or bedevilled library authorities across the country for more than half a century: anti-communism, LGBTQ rights, environmental activism, Indigenous identity, anti-Muslim prejudice, drag queen story times, and anti-vaccine protestations, to name a few. Statistics for the book’s thirty-three events show that twenty-five events were allowed to proceed (76%), six events were cancelled by the library (18%), and two other events were dropped by the organizers (6%). The twenty-five events that were held usually embraced normative library statements upholding IF and library neutrality. The rationale for cancelled events also included the contravention of library anti-discrimination policy, security issues, or arguments related to unacceptable racial or controversial views, and hate speech.

In the case of the Mississauga 1978 film cancellation, the library responded by updating its policy on film selection and use. In 1990, Ottawa Public Library cancelled a lecture on reducing immigration and withdrawal of foreign aid because it was “inappropriate” (p. 14). The 2009 cancellation of events proposing to discuss assisted suicide in Vancouver was vetoed by the library because it received legal advice that it was a potential violation of the Criminal Code of Canada (p. 41–44). The public library in Saskatoon cancelled a speaker scheduled to speak on the matter of abortion due to its controversial nature, citing logistical safety concerns in 2017. The author notes this was an interesting decision because safety concerns trumped IF (p. 58). In the 2017 case of Killing Europe, the Ottawa library cited its stance vis-à-vis its internal anti-discrimination policy. Eventually, legal challenges upheld the library’s position because it was not legally obligated to protect IF when private events were held on its premises (p. 72). Although Vancouver originally approved Megan Murphy’s session on gender identity and feminism for March 2020 based on IF and neutrality, her event was called off due to COVID-19 closures. In terms of politics, Kemble designates four of these library decisions as a progressive force and two as conservative reaction (Mississauga and Vancouver in 2009). 

Contested Spaces closes by critiquing the reliance on the principle of IF and assertions of neutrality. Kemble believes that libraries too often reinforce the status quo of societal power imbalances by protecting ‘ideas over people.’ Although on occasion security and safety come to the fore in the decision-making process, too often values related to social justice are ignored or relegated to secondary consideration. This state of affairs does not fit with the author’s concept of progressiveness or value-neutrality: in many instances, neutrality can be a malleable concept. Nonetheless, the concept of neutrality is still a recognized value in library work because it espouses tolerance and accommodation of people and groups with different ideas and goals.

Whitney Kemble’s criticisms in her well-researched monograph stand out in a Canadian context and make us consider whether our current policies that uphold neutrality are adequate or a fruitless ethical search. Of course, progressiveness is not without its critics, but the author concludes that she is ready for these conversations (p. 39). Her publisher, Litwin Books & Library Juice, is known for its academic quality, and this book is a valuable addition to the debate on neutrality in a liberal democratic society, which no doubt will continue.

Additional sources:

My blog on the Canadian Library Association adoption of its intellectual freedom policy at Calgary in 1966 is at this link.

A YouTube video news report of the protest in support of the transgender community against controversial speaker Meghan Murphy’s appearance at the Palmerston Branch is at this link. 

Canadian Special Libraries Form a National Identity, 1945–1970

Library of Parliament, Ottawa, 1940s

In the spring of 1946, Elizabeth Homer Morton, the Secretary of the Canadian Library Council, recounted her observations on special library services to the Special Libraries Toronto Chapter. In the fall of 1945 she had travelled across Canada to personally assess library services. She visited a variety of special libraries: the Oakalla Prison Farm libraries in Burnaby, British Columbia; the library of the hospital ship Lady Nelson in Halifax Harbour; the Co-operative Wheat Pool libraries on the Prairies; and the extension work of Hudson’s Bay House in Winnipeg to company posts. She concluded optimistically, “Library service in Canada owes a great debt to the special librarians past and present. Not content with building up their own collections, they have done much for Canada’s education and information services by encouraging the institution of public library services.” Indeed, more attetnion to special libraries due to the intensity of industry and research in the war years 1940–45 had given cause for optimism in the two Canadian chapters of the Special Libraries Association (SLA), in Montreal and Toronto. While government libraries, such as the majestic Library of Parliament, comprised the majority of special libraries, smaller technical and business libraries were proving their worth. The 1948–50 Dominion Bureau of Statistics (DBS) reported 196 total libraries, an increase from 158 in its 1942–44 survey.

In the immediate postwar years, there were three centres of special library collective action: the two established chapters of the American SLA, and, in 1949, the Research Section of the Canadian Library Association. The latter national grouping served to address issues common to college, university, research, and special libraries, and to promote their interests. The primary focus on special library work was mostly the preserve of the two chapters, which sometimes worked with the New York Chapter of SLA to organize specific conferences devoted to special librarians. These two chapters focused on special librarians’ identification of their profession and career. They fostered the development of group associations beyond their local areas and sought to clarify the role of special libraries. They ascertained collective needs and pursued goals to support members and engage with the public interest. Sharing best practices, advocating for libraries, networking with colleagues, and establishing standards of service promoted confidence within their parent organizations. Consequently, the two decades following 1950 eventually led to the decision to form the Canadian Association of Special Libraries and Information Services (CASLIS) in June 1969 as a constituent division of the Canadian Library Association (CLA).

Three Postwar Conferences, 1947–49

As a springboard to promote member involvement, three regional conferences were organized by the Toronto, Montreal, and Western New York SLA Chapters: one in Toronto on Oct. 17–18, 1947, another in Rochester on Oct. 8–9, 1948, and a third in Montreal on Sept. 23–24, 1949. Training for librarians and staff was the general focus of the first two meetings. At the King Edward Hotel in Toronto in 1947, two prominent voices, Winifred Barnstead, director of the University of Toronto Library School, and Edna Poole, longtime librarian of the Toronto Academy of Medicine, expressed the view that general university courses, not specific ones, constituted the best way for educators to advance special library work. Librarians should engage in continuing education efforts to further their careers. Beatrice Simon, from McGill University, outlined her view on the training requirements for medical, hospital, and nursing librarians. Mary Jane Henderson, the head of the Montreal Sun Life Assurance Co. library, spoke on training in he life insurance industry. A year later, at Rochester, Phyllis Foreman, librarian of the Hydro-Electric Power Commission of Ontario, spoke on training library assistants for circulation work and George Johnson, librarian of the Law Society of Upper Canada, addressed issues related to in-house ‘sub-professional’ training for the ordering of materials.

In Montreal, a new theme, communication and cooperation, formed the basis for discussion. The keynote speaker, W.K. Lamb, the Dominion Archivist, addressed the issue of creating a union catalogue for the proposed National Library at some length. It was an arduous task, but he felt special libraries could play a role in contributing to a union catalogue because “they can play a very important part. By your very name, you have specialized needs and unusual needs, and you have unusual material stored away in these libraries. I do not look upon the Union Catalogue as anything narrow.” Lillian Steers, librarian of the Dept. of Mines and Resources, outlined cooperative efforts in Ottawa amongst libraries. Mildred Turnbull, librarian at the Royal Bank of Canada in Montreal, spoke on cooperation among different types of libraries in her city.

The three regional meetings were productive efforts to connect members with peers and complemented the annual summer postwar SLA conferences held in Boston, Chicago, Washington, and Atlantic City from 1946 to 1950. When the Toronto Chapter proposed to hold the conference, the SLA set a date of 1953. The Toronto group was growing in numbers and felt confident it could manage the task. By summer 1952, Toronto had formed a local Executive and committees under the capable and energetic chairmanship of Pauline Mary Hutchison, librarian of the Canada Life Assurance Co.

The Special Libraries Conference, Toronto, June 1953 

Pauline Hutchison, c.1953

The 1953 Toronto conference, which took place at the Royal York Hotel for four days beginning on June 22nd, drew about 1,000 attendees from the United States and Canada. It was an opportunity to showcase American and Canadian library progress since the previous SLA meeting in Montreal in 1936. The April issue of Special Libraries had profiled libraries in Montreal and Toronto that SLA members could visit. A special four-day tour to Montreal and return to Toronto was offered for advance registrants. Toronto had a diverse array of library resources to explore, including the Academy of Medicine (the second-largest medical collection in Canada), libraries of the Ontario Legislature, the Osgoode Hall Law Society, the Hydro-Electric Power Commission, and the Royal Ontario Museum. Pauline Hutchison worked tirelessly to offer a blend of speakers for an informative (and entertaining) annual meeting. Canadian speakers provided a variety of interesting topics at the opening Monday session: Marian Thompson, from the Toronto Star Library, spoke about handling large files of pictures. Edna F. Hunt, assistant chief librarian at the National Research Library in Ottawa, explained new developments in inter-library loan activity. Two general fora on ‘Canadian Resources’ were held on Tuesday. Dr. Robert C. Wallace, the former Principal of Queen’s University, provided a comprehensive survey of Canadian scientific research. Resource extraction was the topic J. Gerald Godsoe, vice-president of the British American Oil Co. Ltd., summarized. Earl S. Neal, an Imperial Oil Co. director, provided a succinct account of oil exploration and the expansion of Canadian oil and gas markets. Later, at the SLA banquet on Wednesday evening, A. Davidson Dunton, Chairman of the CBC Board of Governors, entertained delegates about America’s northern neighbour, even venturing to say that Canada would not be assimilated by America simply because it was different.

The Toronto SLA conference was a successful undertaking that highlighted growing expertise in special library work among Canadians. Pauline Hutchison, who garnered accolades for her work in Toronto and the SLA, would eventually be inducted into the SLA Hall of Fame, established in 1960. Peter C. Newman, an aspiring journalist with the Financial Post who covered the 1953 convention, wrote on June 27th, “Today, the business library is a common feature of almost every type of enterprise, with insurance companies, banks, public utilities, publishers, and manufacturers leading the parade. Trade associations, law firms and advertising adgencies are other important library operators.” As careers developed, some special librarians were venturing into the field of Documentation, which explored new principles and techniques for information searching, storage, and retrieval. Documentalists emphasized subject knowledge and their expertise in harnessing information sources and the storage and retrieval systems required to access knowledge. Two years after the convention, at the 1955 Canadian Library Association conference in Saskatoon, Edna Hunt outlined documentation efforts at the National Research Council, the Defence Research Board, and the Aluminium Laboratories Ltd. in Kingston. She would continue to make significant library contributions, both nationally and internationally, and be a founding member of the Canadian Association for Information Science in 1970–71. Later, in 1958, at a Documentation Seminar held at McGill University, Rodolphe Lavergne, librarian at Canadair Ltd., delivered a summary on current special library applications of machines and documentation techniques in the Montreal area that indicated conventional library methods still prevailed. He would eventually become the head librarian of the École des Hautes Études commerciales de Montréal and teach at the McGill University library school. As Documentation evolved into Information Science in the 1960s, most librarians chose to remain in the library field rather than adopting a new profession.

Growth of Special Libraries and Professionalism

Throughout the fifties and sixties, there was sustained growth in the number of scientific, technical, medical, government, and business libraries (particularly company libraries) as well as librarianship. This expansion was due to the explosion of research that placed a greater emphasis on the acquisition of current periodicals or reports and the swift delivery of information. Western special libraries were being established, especially in Alberta, for example, Imperial Oil (1950) and Shell Oil and British American Oil in 1954. Louise Lefebvre, the chief librarian at the Pulp & Paper Institute in Montreal, and one of the founders of the Quebec Library Association in 1932, signalled changing directions in her talk at CLA’s 1957 conference in Victoria. To the question, what was a special library? she said, “The special library is, in short, a particularized information service, which correlates, interprets, and utilizes the material at hand for the constant use and benefit of the organization it serves.” What about the special librarian? She said, “The Special Librarian of the future, the one for whom industry is already clamoring and ready to pay a high salary, is a specialist with a degree in library science and a reading knowledge, if possible, of languages such as French, German and even Russian. Such a combination of talents to-day is painfully scarce.” In the same year, the Librarians Group of the Professional Institute of the Public Service of Canada issued a statement criticizing the federal government’s so-called ‘improved’ schedule of salaries and benefits for librarians after investigating its unfavourable comparison with those of other professions in the public service. Additionally, in 1956, another new section devoted to special interests formed in the CLA: the Canadian Music Library Association was organized as an official section to promote services in its field of librarianship at the annual meeting held in Niagara Falls with a membership of 35.

By the mid-1950s, there was a growing recognition for the need for professional qualifications, greater clarity of purpose regarding services, and more assertive action regarding working conditions. In fact, at the outset of 1959, the SLA revised its membership categories: new members in the active class would now have to hold a degree from a library school of recognized standing and have had three years of professional experience in a special library to qualify. The CLA Council followed suit in November 1959 when it adopted its position on a national standard for librarians:

Jack E. Brown, 1950s

“No one will be recognized by the Canadian Library Association–Association Canadienne des Bibliothèques as a fully qualified professional librarian in Canada unless he holds the equivalent of the B.A. degree as granted in Canada plus proof of library training equivalent to that required for the Bachelor of Library Science degree (B.L.S.) in Canada or Master of Library Science degree (M.L.S.) in the United States of America.” As the decade closed, in November 1959, the Canadian Library Association Bulletin featured the importance of special library work by devoting an entire issue to its progress. The issue featured important collections from across the country, along with regional synopses. It also introduced new professionals, such as Jack E. Brown, the new chief librarian of the National Research Council. He would oversee a significant era as the library officially became the National Science Library in 1966 and then assist with the development a new building, the Canada Institute for Scientific and Technical Information (CISTI), opened in 1974. He influenced the profession during the sixties and seventies with innovations such as the Canadian Selective Dissemination of Information service (CAN/SDI), a current awareness service for scientists and researchers based on centralized processing at the National Science Library (NSL) of scientific databases. 

Striving for a National Focus

The 1960s witnessed a dramatic period of growth for special libraries of various types—those serving parent organizations (e.g., governments), libraries developed for specific subjects (e.g., films), or libraries organized to hold different formats (e.g., maps). According to the 1964 report of the DBS, there were 580 special libraries in 1961, and subsequent contemporary reports indicate that approximately 300 more libraries were established in the sixties. General categories of service included reference, user orientation, document delivery, information retrieval, bibliographic assistance, and current awareness. Across North America some special libraries were beginning to be known as “information centres” or “documentation centres,” and librarians were starting to embrace new computerized technology to play a helpful role in a new era of information and knowledge. Local perspectives were lessening and libraries were expanding their range of services and clienteles. The NSL was leading the way in providing delivery of documents as well as information and translation services. The two Canadian chapters sought to enhance member involvement, refine leadership structures, and pursue broader goals and objectives. For example, the Toronto chapter investigated the extent of training in Canadian library schools and the value of continuing education opportunities in its schedule of 1963/64 workshops.

At the national level, two important studies touched on special library work in the early 1960s. Beatrice Simon, assistant chief librarian at McGill University, conducted a study of major universities, Library Support of Medical Education and Research in Canada (1964), that proposed a national program for improving access to Canadian medical information resources, such as improved financial support and the establishment of a National Medical Bibliographic Centre and Information Service. A second report,  Science-Technology Literature Resources in Canada by George S. Bonn, the science and technology chief at the New York Public Library, included universities and major research libraries. He recommended that the NSL in Ottawa serve as the central collection in science and technology, supporting and encouraging principal regional libraries to strengthen their collections and provide better service aided by special grants. Networking among libraries and the availability of computerized databases promised to greatly expand the range of information available to special libraries.

Librarians were rearranging professional connections and forming new groups to better address their concerns. In 1963, many university and college librarians formerly in the Research Section of CLA formed their own major association, the Canadian Association of College and University Libraries. Shortly after, this action prompted a name change to the CLA’s Research and Special Libraries section. In 1962, a CLA Committee on Medical Science Libraries adopted its own constitution in Ottawa, hen later transitioned to a standing committee of the Association of Canadian Medical Colleges in 1967. In 1963, a group of Canadians in the American Association of Law Libraries successfully formed a national chapter affiliated with American Association of Law Libraries, the Canadian Association of Law Libraries, with Marianne Scott of McGill University as its first president. In June 1967, the Association of Canadian Map Libraries was established at the Public Archives of Canada as an entity separate from the CLA.

Mariam H. Tees, c. 1975

At this point, in 1966, the Toronto and Montreal chapters of the SLA began discussing the need to form a larger Canadian organization to coordinate activity at the national level. According to contemporary accounts, there were approximately 750 special librarians in Canada by the late 1960s. They were members of various groups: just more than 300 were members of the CLA Research and Special Libraries Section, about 350 were CLA members, and the two Canadian chapters had fewer than 200 members each. The SLA continued to be a strong influence in Canada, and the Montreal chapter hosted its second SLA conference at the beginning of June 1969, with the theme ‘Information Across Borders.’ Miriam Tees, librarian of the Royal Bank of Canada, chaired the organizational committee. She was in charge of a library of 50,000 volumes and 800 periodical subscriptions and looked forward to library computerization to provide faster service to the company. One of the key moments of the conference was an address by Beryl Anderson on Canadian information resources. In her summary, she made an important point by stating that a strong national association could be an effective instrument for fostering greater integration into the national information network. As well, the SLA conferred its Professional Award upon Beatrice Simon, an important figure in special library work and the assistant university librarian at McGill between 1947–65. It was a successful conference that brought attention to Mariam Tees’ remarkable abilities and eventually to her presidency of the SLA in 1975–76 when she assured the membership, “As we move further and further into the information era, people with our special training and knowledge become more essential than ever.” A week after the Montreal SLA conference concluded, at St. John’s, Newfoundland, members of the CLA Research and Special Libraries agreed to dissolve and begin preparations to form a new division within the CLA specifically for special libraries.

At the June 1970 CLA meeting in Hamilton, special librarians formally adopted a name change and a new constitution for the Canadian Association of Special Libraries and Information Services (CASLIS). This step constituted a significant milestone in establishing Canadian special librarians as a voice in national affairs within the CLA. The Canadian special libraries sector had grown in numbers and confidence in the sixties. Initial membership in CASLIS reached almost 300 at time when there was about 1,000 special libraries, almost half of which were government. However, in the 1970s, this category would grow in number and begin to coordinate its activities through formalized group associations at the federal and provincial levels. There was less concern for nationwide undertakings.

Bank of Montreal Library, Montreal, 1969

The general proliferation of library groups and the development of ‘type of library’ membership adopted for the five divisional groupings in the CLA by 1970 indicated that national concerns or projects for librarians were giving way to provincial, regional, local, and personal professional issues, especially continuing education to further careers. As well, the activities of international affiliations remained attractive: both SLA Canadian chapters continued their connection with the SLA after 1970. In 1971, the Canadian Music Library Association of the CLA dissolved and chose to affiliate with the International Music Library Association rather than CASLIS. Instead of charting national policies, CASLIS executives spent their energies recruiting and establishing chapters in Ottawa, Toronto, Calgary, and Edmonton during the 1970s. During this time, the new association and its member chapters participated in a variety of joint programs and workshops with other library and information science groups. It was the strength of the local chapters that heightened awareness of CASLIS for years to come.

My previous blog on the organization of special libraries in Montreal and Toronto by 1940 is at this link.

My previous blog on the 1936 SLA conference held in Montreal is at this link.

My biography of Jack Ernest Brown is at the Ex Libris Association website at this link.