George-Émile Marquis and Public Libraries in Quebec before 1945

Nos bibliothèques publiques, by Georges-Émile Marquis. Québec: Éditions du Terroir, 1925, 16 p., illus.
Plaidoyer pour les bibliothèques publiques, by Georges-Émile Marquis. Montréal: L’Oeuvre des tracts, 1946, 16 p.

G-É Marquis, c. 1930s

In 1890, the government of Quebec passed a statute, the Municipal Aid to Public Libraries (Chapter 34), authorizing municipalities to approve bylaws to “aid, in conformity with the laws governing them, the establishment and maintenance of free public libraries in their municipalities or in adjoining municipalities.” This law also stipulated similar permissive assistance for library associations and mechanics’ institutes. The city of Westmount, on the island of Montreal, was the first to create a municipal library under this statute in 1899. Yet, the vast majority of communities in Quebec continued to be served by bibliothèques paroissiales, that is, small local collections created and managed by the Catholic Church for use by parishioners since the mid-19th century.

 

Ecclesiastical resistance to the establishment of secularized municipal public libraries remained strong, even in Quebec’s urban centre, Montreal, where the city council, forced to turn down a $150,000 Carnegie promised grant made in 1901, eventually erected a public library. The Bibliothèque de la Ville de Montréal, a beautiful, classic Beaux-Arts style building, became the city’s central public library after its official opening in May 1917. However, its holdings were deficient for a city of more than 600,000, borrowing was subject to a $3 to $6 deposit, and French-language publications were lacking. By the mid-1920s, only small steps had been taken toward municipal tax-supported public libraries in Quebec. There were few writers or journalists publishing articles in newspapers, journals, or monographs advocating the adoption of this type of library which was making greater strides in English-speaking countries.

 

One such author, largely ignored in Canadian public library histories, was Georges-Émile Marquis, who was born in Saint-Pierre-de-Montmagny in 1878. He became a teacher after graduating from the Laval Normal School in 1896; then, he taught schoolchildren for a short time before becoming a school inspector after 1905. A few years later, he was appointed Chief Statistician of the Quebec Bureau of Statistics in 1914. Marquis had an eclectic range of interests spanning history, economics, travel, the presidency of the Canadian Club at Quebec City, and the honorary rank of colonel in the Lévis Regiment. As a member of the Société des Auteurs Canadiens and the Société des Arts, Sciences et Lettres, he was intent on publishing his lectures and issuing small pamphlets: one such special focus was the library situation in Quebec. This attentiveness became a vocation, when, in 1934, he was appointed as Director of the Library of the Legislator, a position he held in Quebec City until his retirement in 1952.

 

G.É. Marquis and Nos bibliothèques publiques, 1925

 

Marquis’ first library publication, Nos bibliothèques publiques, drew on his knowledge of general statistics for all types of libraries collected by the provincial government as well as his practical experience as an inspector of school libraries. His booklet reprinted his speech to the French section of the Canadian Authors Association held at the Château Frontenac, Quebec City, on May 4, 1925, in advance of the Book Week held across the province. Marquis, an entertaining and informative speaker, demonstrated a conversational style and interest in book learning, libraries, and the notion of cultural progress in Quebec. Although he addressed all types of libraries, it was clear throughout his talk that he interpreted ‘public library’ in a broad sense to include municipalities, societies, schools, and parish libraries. Drawing on statistics for 1924 tabulated by the Bureau, he stated there were 1,899 public libraries with holdings of 3,853,815 volumes and pamphlets in the province—the vast majority of which were school libraries. There were 225 parish libraries and just a handful, 30, designated as public libraries (p. 12). By comparison, Marquis used comparative figures from the Ontario Department of Education to calculate that Quebec’s neighbour held 3,315,346 volumes in 466 public libraries (free and association) and 5,645 school libraries, for a total of 6,111 libraries. Marquis suggested his comparison might give pause for consideration because, under Ontario legislation there were 195 free public libraries supported by municipal taxation serving more than 1,500,000 people, i.e. about half the provincial population.

For the most part, in his opening section (pp. 3–7), Marquis provided a reliable account of the growth of private, public, and semi-public libraries from the period of New France to the early 20th century. Major libraries were mainly in Montreal and Quebec City where there were leading figures in religious, educational, or commercial fields. Surprisingly, he does not mention the well-known exploits of Alexandre Vattemare in the early 1840s to establish book exchanges, a program that received much attention at the time. Marquis does highlight the historiography of library related contributions by Eugène Rouillard, Pierre-Georges Roy, Édouard-Zotique Massicotte, Aegidius Fauteux, and the neglected history of Frederick C. Wurtele on the valuable library (still active today) of the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec. A second section (pp. 7–11) summarizes the development of printing, publishing, and book collecting beginning with the Gazette de Québec in 1764. One notable collection, the library of Philéas Gagnon, 8,000 volumes, was purchased for $31,000 and became the property of the Montreal Municipal Library in 1910. The entire collection was a prominent feature of the new Beaux-Arts library opened on Sherbrooke Street East.

The final two sections of Nos bibliothèques publiques provide Marquis’ knowledgeable statistical summary, followed by a concluding part (pp. 14–16) providing some optimism for future progress. He notes current provincial efforts to fund Canadian books for Quebec schools, the efforts of journalists and editors of popular newspapers and periodicals to supply reading for the public and indirectly to promote libraries. He closes by observing that private initiatives strengthened by public assistance can improve present conditions and develop an abundant source of notable Canadian books that would contribute to “les nombreux chefs-d’oeuvre de la littérature française.”

G.-É. Marquis and a Plea for Public Libraries in Quebec, 1946

 

Two decades later, in 1946, Marquis expanded the theme of public libraries more directly. This pamphlet is more polished and displays greater knowledge of librarianship that he gained after a decade in his office as Librarian of the Legislative Library. In his opening, he reaffirmed his life-long love of books, “Sans livres, que ferions-nous pour nous cultiver ou nous évader? me suis-je souventes fois demandé, et c’est pourquoi je m’apitoie sur le sort des populations qui en sont privées.” [Without books, what would we do to cultivate ourselves or to escape? I have often asked myself, and that is why I am sorry for the populations deprived of them.] To bolster his case for the universality of public library development beyond Anglo-American librarianship, Marquis cites an unusual source neglected throughout North America: the League of Nations International Institute of Intellectual Cooperation, which mainly operated from Paris from 1922 to 1946. In 1937, this committee published Mission sociale et intellectuelle des Bibliothèques populaires; Son organisation, ses moyens d'actions that went on record asserting,

Qu’il s’gisse de l'éducation des jeunes, des adultes et de l'auto-éducation, de procurer un simple délassement de l'esprit, d’enseigner, de renseigner, de former ou de distraire, toujours la bibliothèque populaire offre ses ressources, et sa responsabilité s’en augmente d’autant. [Whether or not it is education for young people, adults, and self-education, providing a simple relaxation for the mind, teaching, informing, training, or entertaining, the public library always offers its resources, and its responsibility increases accordingly (p. 5).]

This early mission statement still rings true in 2025. Marquis also credits Andrew Carnegie’s oft-quoted belief that libraries exist to help those who help themselves as well as Jules Ferry, a French statesman and philosopher, who believed that libraries were a vital asset in education. Further, Marquis, employing a much narrower conception of a ‘public library’ than he relied on in 1926, stated there were only six libraries for predominantly English-speaking readers and four serving French-speaking readers (pp. 2–3), admittedly an unpleasant truth. However, he points to positive changing attitudes to public library development pp. 8–9):

• the formation of l’Association des Bibliothécaires catholiques in 1943 and its call for a reorganization of libraries across the province;
• the proposals by the Conseil de l’École des Bibliothécaires de l’Université de Montréal to consider new avenues to improve library services;
• the call for regional library development by the Société d’Éducation des Adultes du Québec, and
• a Montreal city council investigation into the possibility of establishing city branch libraries.

In viewing the broader postwar landscape, Marquis suggests that Quebec’s public library system might be invigorated by potential federal assistance for libraries from Ottawa, especially if they came under the direction of a provincial Department of Public Instruction, based on current denominational lines and free from any political interference (pp.19–11). His proposal looked, in part, to earlier American ideas, but it reflects the fact that Canadian Dominion-Provincial financial relations were under discussion after 1945. A more liberal tone beyond conservative Quebec nationalism is clearly expressed that foreshadows later progressive development (p. 14): “Que Québec me donne des compétences, et j’obtiendrai notre quote-part des faveurs du pouvoir central” [Give me strength in Quebec, and I will get our share of favours from the federal government]. But Marquis asks: where was the leadership to address the question at hand? when might the government act?

 

The writer proposed that knowledgeable library promoters should take the lead by explaining the utility of public libraries to the public through speeches, radio, and publications. Then, the demand for establishing public libraries could be successful and Quebec could keep pace with library progress in the rest of Canada which was increasingly aligned with American librarianship after Word War II.

The power of libraries to benefit society, Marquis opines, is everlasting as a source of learning. He finishes by illustrating his point with the motto beneath a stained-glass window in his legislative library depicting a woman drawing water from a stream — “Je puise mais n’épuise” [I draw, but I do not exhaust (p. 16)].

 

Mostly, Marquis is a minor but not entirely forgotten figure in Canadian librarianship. Gaston Bernier has written about his career at the National Assembly by remarking that he possessed a conservative, military mindset and a standoffish attitude that narrowed his social advancement. Certainly, he did not participate in any degree in library associations, choosing to pursue personal interests that led him to publish more than two dozen small tracts outside the field of libraries. Yet, from the 1920s to the 1940s, his voice advocated for better libraries, especially those supported by municipalities. He wrote at a time when even three prominent authors of Libraries in Canada (1933) conceded that the immediate improvement of parish libraries was the most practical step forward for library progress in Quebec due to general political and religious support. After his retirement in 1952, Marquis issued a few publications on Quebec commemorative monuments, Mexico, and his regiment at Lévis. He died in 1960 in Quebec City.

 

An article by Gaston Bernier discussing the tenure of Marquis at the Legislative Library, “Georges-Émile Marquis (1878-1960): un bibliothécaire dynamique mais rébarbatif,” Documentation et bibliothèques 58, 2 (2012): 77–83 is available via Érudit at this link.

 

My earlier blog on Les Bibliothèques Populaires (1890) by Eugène Rouillard 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.

Public Libraries and Marxism by Joe and John Pateman (2021)

 Public Libraries and Marxism by Joe Pateman and John Pateman. London and New York: Routledge, 2021. 119 p., indexed.

Public libraries offer an amazing range of information and services in Western society, but to what end? Library organizations and librarians mainly focus on the functional aspects of library services and professional activity while ignoring power relationships and the institutional framework of libraries within society. Public Libraries and Marxism analyzes the public library from a Marxist perspective by challenging our conventional liberal-democratic views that focus mostly on delivering services while ignoring its hegemonic basis of authority. John Pateman has extensive administrative experience. He headed libraries in the UK before he came to Canada in 2012 to be the CEO of Thunder Bay Public Library in Ontario. He has written articles and books with a Marxist viewpoint, such as Public Libraries and Social Justice (2010) and Developing Community Led Public Libraries (2013). Joe Pateman is a professor of politics at York University in Toronto, Ontario, and his main research interest concerns the theory and practice of Marxism-Leninism. Together, they have crafted a valuable introductory handbook for those interested in a Leninist version of Marxism and public librarianship. As well, each chapter has a useful bibliography that readers can pursue to navigate the complexities of Marxism.

Marxist Views of Public Libraries

The Patemans’ argument unfolds in six chapters  — (1) Introduction (2) The Marxist Interpretation of the Public Library (3) V. I. Lenin and Soviet Socialist Public Library System (4) Kim Il-Sung and Socialist Public Libraries in North Korea (5) The Vanguard Library (6) Conclusion. The authors dedicated this book to V.I. Lenin with a following quote from the leading Marxist-Leninist historian of the 1920s, Mikhail Pokrovskii, concerning the importance of libraries. Pokrovskii is quoted from time to time but there is no mention that he suffered the fate of many Russian intellectuals—his work was quickly discredited and his historical school eclipsed during the 1930s then rehabilitated to some extent after Stalin’s death.

The Introduction provides the essential features of Marxist-Leninist ideology, the interpretation of Marxist thought developed by Vladmir Lenin that emerged from Russia at the beginning of the 20th-century. Some readers may be familiar with the terminology of (a) dialectical materialism and its three laws; (b) the base and superstructure of historical materialism; (c) the hierarchical order of class analysis; (d) the creation of a classless, stateless society under scientific communism; and (e) the revolutionary leadership of Vanguardism. This exposition has the quality of brevity and clarity; however, I find the claim that Marxism is a scientific account of social change to be highly problematic. For me, Marxism is essentially a speculative philosophy because of its well-known imprecision (it can lead to many deductions or variants, yet no critical examination can entirely refute it) and its reliance on patterns, purpose, and meaning in history which the vast majority of historians reject because they see no purpose of goal in history. Further, Marxism-Leninism is less a philosophy and more a political ideology that calls for the creation of a Communist state; it is action oriented and analytic thought is mostly a handmaiden. The authors conclude this chapter by discussing other theoretical approaches used in library and information studies (LIS), such as Western Marxism, which they firmly repudiate likely because it is less focused on class or political struggles and more on cultural-social development, philosophy, or art.

Chapter 2 focuses on the library and librarians as historical entities. From the typical Marxist model of the forms of society, there are ancient, feudal, capitalist or bourgeois (Traditional Library), socialist (Community-Led), and communist (Needs-Based) public libraries. Library professionals emerged during the era of capitalism, even in socialist nations, but eventually, in a communist society, the previously exploited working classes will manage public libraries. At the centre of this argument are the teachings of Karl Marx, who introduced the concept that human society consisted of two parts: the base (the economic substructure that comprises the forces of production which provide the necessities of life and give rise to the relations of production, that is relations between people) and superstructure (the political, legal, religious, and cultural institutions of society). Marxists hold that productive forces are fundamental and determine the superstructure; however, some Marxist theorists (e.g., especially the Frankfurt School) postulate that the superstructure is of more interest: it may gain some autonomy and, on occasion, influence the base. Applied to public libraries as part of the superstructure, this generally means that the economic base ultimately shapes the library’s societal goals and objectives, its policies and procedures, as well as its staffing and services.

Because Marx and his followers viewed human history as a long-term class struggle, the public library, in its various incarnations in capitalist societies, evolved as an instrument of the power of the ruling bourgeoisie to control the working-class proletariat which comprised the majority of people in most countries: “the public library, as a cultural institution, functions in order to stabilise the economic base and, by extension, the rule of the property-owning class.” (p.29) As part of the authors’ thesis, the ruling elites and acquiescent petite-bourgeois librarians mostly excluded and ignored the voices of the unserved, disadvantaged and minorities. This is consistent with the capitalist idea that the individual and competitive self-interest are the central ingredients in society.

Although the modern public library in Western capitalist countries is theoretically supposed to serve everyone in society, in reality the authors observe that its failure to do so is all too evident. The ‘Traditional Library,’ the state-supported public libraries that emerged in the mid-19th century, served the same function as the mechanics’ institutes — they were instruments of social control. Today, the public library as an institution is often widely regarded as a mainstay of democratic values (i.e., liberty, freedom, pluralism, and equality), yet critical scrutiny of its actual history in LIS literature belies this entrenched belief. Consequently, the authors propose transformative ideas to completely rework the practices of public librarianship and the unconscious operation of ‘capitalist’ libraries. The Marxist perspective emphasizes group conflict through class struggle and the eventual success of the proletariat in seizing the means of production. The authors assert, “It is only under communism that truly public libraries can exist.” (p. 26)

Chapter 3 outlines the Leninist model followed by socialist/communist countries in the 20th-century. Because Vladimir Lenin believed that socialist public libraries and librarians could be a leading force in developing the cultural, educational, and technical knowledge of the masses, the Soviet Union created a centralized, state-controlled library service that drew initial praise even in the West. After Lenin’s death, his widow, Nadezhda Krupskaia, a Communist commissar of education, was largely responsible for the direction of library development and better training for librarians. Her writings are quoted extensively throughout the book. She infused libraries with new ideas about their goals and functions and helped promote a rapid expansion of literacy in the Soviet Union before she was discredited during the dictatorial regime of Stalin. Krupskaia felt that understanding readers, selecting books to suit readers’ interests by promoting communist thought, and better organization of resources would improve services. Today, the basic Marxist-Leninist model she helped establish in the Soviet Union continues in socialist countries such as Cuba, China, Cuba, Vietnam, Laos, and North Korea.

Chapter 4 outlines one country’s public library system, North Korea. Kim Il-Sung (1912–94), the national Supreme Leader, was mostly responsible for its development. His concept, inspired by Juche, was self-reliance in a national context. Public libraries in the Korean state must build upon a revolutionary outlook and the leadership of the Workers’ Party of Korea focusing on ideology and, more importantly, the authority of the Supreme Leader, a sort of allegiance on steroids. This chapter is quite helpful in explaining the development of public libraries in North Korea, a topic seldom appearing in the Western library literature. North Korean libraries have diverged somewhat from Marxist-Leninist orthodoxy but they retain many characteristics of the conventional model.

Chapter 5 discusses the ‘Vanguard Library’ and its potential in capitalist and socialist societies, especially Cuba. Lenin developed the idea of Vanguardism as a strategy whereby highly motivated, key members of the proletariat formed groups to further the goals of communist ideology. Of course, there are elements of elitism in this approach, a matter which leads back to the issue of social control of the working class and variant Marxist views about how capitalism would falter and collapse. The Vanguard Library leads the evolution of public libraries from one Marxist stage of historical development to the next. As capitalism declines and disappears, under vanguard action the Traditional Library will evolve into the socialist stage of the Community-Led library that better meets the needs of the working class. At some future point, the highest stage of public library progress will be reached under classless, stateless communist conditions and the Community-Led Library will transition into the Needs-Based Library. This latter incarnation of the public library faithfully serves the entire public without limitations. In the context of Cuba, the Vanguard Library is said to have played a critical role after the 1959 revolution brought Fidel Castro to power. The government established a network of libraries which vitalized the working class and rolled back illiteracy in short order. Vanguardism raises working-class consciousness by educating workers and by creating a ‘new man’ entirely in sync with socialist ideology and motivated by the best principles of class consciousness.

Considering what a Marxist library service would look like in the Western capitalist countries of today, Public Libraries and Marxism provides insights that help us understand the revolutionary impact of the potential for transformation in Western public librarianship. The Patemans outline why and how Western public libraries can change organizational practices, indeed their culture and mission, to better serve those in need. That is an important Marxist message for librarians to keep in mind as new challenges arise. It is not a utopian vision, but a call to understand our place in history and our communities, to reach unserved minorities and the working class, and to strive to build an authentic public library service that will finally achieve what it claims to do, to serve everyone. However, the vexed issue of who will lead the Vanguard is left open.

Although the writings of Karl Marx form the basis for Marxist-Leninist thought, e.g., the concept that the material conditions of life determine the nature of human consciousness and society, readers should note that many ideas outlined by the two authors feature the ideas of Vladimir Lenin who championed the establishment of the dictatorship of the proletariat led by a revolutionary vanguard party. Lenin, moving well beyond the usual Marxist doctrine derived from Marx and Friedrich Engles, theorized this action as the political prelude to the establishment of communism. Public Libraries and Marxism gives us a view of how to work toward communist public libraries, but readers must keep in mind there are many variations of Marxism to chose and follow such as Western Marxism or Trotskyism. But for librarians or LIS scholars who may believe in the ultimate triumph of communism, this book can be a useful starting point.

A selection of V.I. Lenin’s writings on libraries and contributions by Nadezhda Krupskaia is available at the Internet Archive in a work by Sylva Šimsová, Lenin, Krupskaia and Libraries (London: Clive Bingley, 1968). Šimsová was a Czech citizen who emigrated to the UK with her family in 1949 and worked as a librarian (Fellow of the Library Association) in London for many years.

Confronting the Democratic Discourse of Librarianship: A Marxist Approach (2019) by Sam Popowich

Confronting the Democratic Discourse of Librarianship: A Marxist Approach by Sam Popowich. Sacramento, CA: Library Juice Press, 2019. 322 p.

“So long as we are a democracy we need intelligence; so long as we need intelligence in the community we need librarians; so we shall need librarians to the end of Time.” — George H. Locke speaking to university students in Toronto, October 1932.

George Locke’s assessment neatly encapsulated the thoughts of the “library community” in Canada, the United States, and Britain in the first part of the 20th century. Today, many people continue to support the belief that public libraries provide beneficial free and equal access to resources for everyone in the community that the library serves. Library historians have also followed this line of reasoning, using the themes of  “temples of democracy,” “cornerstones of liberty,” or “arsenals of democracy.” But are foundational themes in history really so simple? Readers of two classic Marxist histories, such as Georges Lefebvre’s The Coming of the French Revolution (1939), which dissected the ancien régime by emphasizing the leading role of the bourgeoisie, or E.P. Thompson’s The Making of the English Working Class (1963), which charted the efforts of working people to forge their own identity, might beg to differ. Yet, Marxist views about public libraries are seldom referenced because Anglo-American library histories are rarely written from the Marxist perspective. They are published from “the left” and present revisionist, radical views, but fall short of revolutionary analysis. Now we have a book written in the Western Marxist vein to reject the validity of the normative democratic discourse of librarians and challenge ideas that have pervaded Anglo-American-Canadian library statements and practice for so long.

In Confronting the Democratic Discourse of Librarianship, Sam Popowich rejects the liberal-democratic tradition within librarianship which usually supports the concepts of library neutrality on societal issues, political pragmatism, and relative independence from economic forces or political influence. A general ideological outlook—a historical myth perhaps—constrains libraries and librarianship: the “library faith,” a long-standing belief that public libraries can provide materials (especially books) that could transform public attitudes, raise the cultural level, and develop citizenship, thus bettering  democracy.  For the author, the reliance on these ideas, especially by mainstream library historians, must be dismantled to change the profession, libraries, and our society. “From a political perspective this allows us also to ignore the very real problems inherent in our social and political world: racism, sexism, intolerance, alienation, hatred, violence, and political manipulation” (p. 3). Popowich believes the traditional liberal-democratic order of governments masks the oppressive structures of society and sustains the capitalist order of exploitation. Thus, by extension, librarians and libraries play a complicit role in the social reproduction of capitalism and its ideology. But all is not lost: the author concludes with potential strategies for resistance to the standard democratic discourse and capitalist hegemony that might contribute to a better society, a liberating vision shared in Marxist themes.

Chapter Outline of the Democratic Discourse

The corrective, mould-breaking lens of Marxism presented in the Democratic Discourse unfolds over nine chapters:
(1) The Democratic Discourse of Librarianship; (2) Vectors of Oppression; (3) Liberalism and the Enlightenment; (4) Ideology and Hegemony in the Marxist Tradition; (5) Three Hegemonies of Library History; (6) The Library Myth; (7) Truth Machines; (8) Dual Power and Mathesis; (9) Conclusion: Lives and Time.

The first chapter explores whether we actually live in a democracy. It revisits the meaning of democracy and librarians’ tunnel vision on issues such as liberty, free speech, and intellectual freedom, issues often taken for granted. “True democracy cannot be partial, cannot be exclusionary, and I will argue that this is precisely what ‘liberal democracy’ has always been. The democratic discourse of librarianship, the idea that libraries are sacred to some actually-existing democratic reality, prevents us from working towards the achievement of this radical, total democracy.” (p. 49) In the second chapter, the concept of vectors of oppression, for example, sex, race, or gender identity, is introduced to show libraries have inherited oppressive ideas and practices inherent in capitalist structures which perpetuate an in-egalitarian society.

In the following two chapters, a critique of the Enlightenment search for universal truths, Capitalism’s relentless drive for profits, and Liberalism’s political and social successes/failures as opposed to a roseate outline of Marxist thought put the reader in the right place for reassessing the role of libraries. Popowich leads the reader through the contributions of 20th-century theorists to Western Marxist theory: Georg Lukács’ reification, Antonio Gramsci’s hegemony, Louis Althusser’s ideological state apparatuses and capitalist reproduction, and Frederic Jameson’s postmodern political unconsciousness (living in a ‘perpetual present’) and the idea of cultural logic. These thinkers have made significant additions to critical Marxist theory. Jameson provides a way forward because “we have to look at the political unconscious of library work, especially as it relates to the particular ‘cultural logics’ of the different periods of library history” (p.169).

This background leads us to the three (perhaps four) hegemonies of library history, a cookie-cutter view of the periodization of library history on the Anglo-American scene from the mid-1800s to the present based on the Marxist historical view.

1848–1914: Classical liberalism, industrial technology, factory work, the bourgeois library;
1914–1945: Wars and depression; the war library [a short period that could be combined with the bourgeois library]
1945–1973: Embedded liberalism, the welfare state, mass work, the mass library;
1973–2008: Neoliberalism, postmodernism, the neoliberal library,

Popowich expresses more interest in the two latter periods, where capitalism and neoliberal philosophy prevailed in Western societies. In the “industrial library” (the era 1914–73), he finds the development of ideas encouraging the education of a democratic society (ultimately a library myth) and the substitution of reliance on moral education in favour of library neutrality. The author investigates aspects of the "neoliberal library" (the post-1973 era) in two chapters: the issue of postmodern epistemology and library science, as well as library labour in the age of “truth machines.” The binary logic of computing/cybernetics is applied to social control based on the reality of the outcome, true/false. In fact, “one of the things that makes libraries so useful to capitalist society: libraries are machines for the reproduction of ideology” (p. 274). The library’s mythic presence of political and social neutrality in support of liberal democracy is linked with the mechanical process of providing information and programs that reinforce the inequalities of contemporary neoliberal society. These two chapters are mainly devoted to the structures of society with brief, depressing context for librarians and libraries: efforts in the daily working environment (the machines of reproduction) do not effect real change to systemic issues such as racism, alienation, inequality, and sexism. It is a nuanced deterministic view, a common element of Western Marxist writings. 

The Democratic Discourse also points to the present, post-2008 period in its final chapters. Marxism posits that society moves through a series of stages and ultimately arrives at real freedom and a classless utopia. By adopting a Marxist viewpoint, Popowich believes liberation is quite possible. He believes we can employ two potential strategies for resisting capitalist hegemony and repudiating the democratic discourse of librarianship. The eighth chapter, “Dual Power and Mathesis,” considers utopian strategies to revolutionize the neoliberal library and jettison its democratic discourse. One co-existing power, capitalism (a repressive regime), can be offset by another liberating force, “mathesis,” in which libraries prioritize learning over rote education, thus establishing a radical, authentic democracy. Popowich concludes that we must cast aside our fictitious innocence, which determines how we think about “lives and time” (pp. 293–299). Economic exploitation ultimately has detrimental costs in both human life and the time frame we have to resist its oppressive framework and liberal-democratic norms. The critical step must be to recognize our current state. “Constituent power can and must struggle against constituted power, can and must make hard choices, but those choices have to arise from concrete, collective experience, and a joyful taking on of responsibility. They cannot arise from a fatal innocence.” (p. 299)

The Democratic Discourse is punctuated with a host of theorists that buttress the author’s arguments. In addition to a few mentioned previously, we should note Popowich’s reliance on the work of Paolo Freire, who wrote on the development of a critical consciousness about society with the end of creating a more democratic culture; Stuart Hall’s critical work on identities and political power; David Harvey’s interest in the postmodernization (post-Fordism) of culture and politics; Jacques Rancière’s anti-institutional criticism of political theory and suggestion of radical equality; and Giovanni Arrighi’s or Ernest Mandel’s critiques and outlines of capitalist development. In the same way, Popowich invokes many Anglo-American academics who have written extensively about library history: Wayne Wiegand, Alistair Black, Michael Harris, Sidney Ditzion, Dee Garrison, and Jesse Shera, to name a few. As well, the viewpoints of authors engaged in contemporary issues are brought into focus, particularly John Buschman, Ed D’Angelo, and Stephen Bales. Although some of these writers have been revisionist or critical in their approach to library history, they have not produced counter-hegemonic histories. Ditzion and Shera wrote during the “consensus” period of historiography in the United States that emphasized continuity and the achievements of American democratic capitalism. In this setting, libraries were reputed to be a force for democracy, equal opportunity, and individual achievement even though Bernard Berelson’s research for The Library’s Public (1949) revealed that American public libraries reached only a minority of the population, the better educated that he felt public libraries should focus on. As the 1970s dawned and social historians began to study things “from the bottom up,” (a Marxist theme in many ways) revisionists issued a challenge that public libraries had not addressed American problems or were initially fostered by the educated elite (aka, the power brokers) to enforce social controls in reading for the lower or working class. In Britain, Alistair Black authored a “new history,” one that eschewed narrative and advocated thematic, critical history in concert with the development of cultural studies and Raymond William’s Marxist pursuit of the social history of ideas, especially the interaction between intellectual life and communities. These are still valuable histories today, depending on one’s viewpoint: consensus vs. revisionism, narrative vs. analysis, social vs. institution, and modern vs. postmodern.

Popowich has authored a historiographic overview of library history intertwined with the culture of postmodernism and politics of resistance to neo-liberalism. Of course, he could have called upon others to support his ideas; for example, An Essay on Liberation (1969) by Herbert Marcuse, who decried the repressiveness of society in the postwar period and proposed new possibilities for human liberation, or Ian McKay’s influential Marxist-based prospectus for Canadian history, “The Liberal Order Framework” (2000) which highlights the liberal-democratic hegemonic promotion of individualism, private property, and capitalist accumulation in nation building during the 19th and 20th century. As for democracy, there are many types that are attractive: participatory, social, liberal, representative, grassroots, radical, and so on. Popowich states that “Democracy, we might say, is in the eye of the beholder” (p. 2), yet he does not offer a specific preference for replacing the liberal-democratic status quo. His interest lies in ameliorating systemic inequities: “true democracy cannot be partial, cannot be exclusionary,” (p. 49). To explore the contested field of Canadian democracy I would suggest Constant Struggle: Histories of Canadian Democratization edited by Julien Mauduit and Jennifer Tunnicliffe, a collection of historical essays recently published in 2021 that raises questions about the concept of democracy and its application in Canada.

Capitalism, Popowich asserts, must be overthrown before an authentic, truly democratic (utopian?) society can unfold. I would argue that The Democratic Discourse stands more in the path of Western or neo-Marxist social theory rather than the developing field of Critical Librarianship. Critlib is reflexive and action oriented especially regarding social justice issues, but Sam Popowich goes further by setting forth a more powerful, transformative, innovative societal challenge to ingrained complacency in librarianship. Political awareness from a Marxist perspective: that’s not such a bad thing after all!

Ontario Public Libraries: The Provincial Role in a Triad of Responsibilities, 1982

Ontario Public Libraries: The Provincial Role in a Triad of Responsibilities. The Report of the Ontario Public Libraries Programme Review for the Minister of Citizenship and Culture. Toronto: Ministry of Citizenship and Culture, 1982. Executive Co-Ordinator, Peter J. Bassnett. Tables and appendices; xxxiii, 318 pp.

In September 1980, Ontario’s Minister of Culture and Recreation (MCR), Reuben Baetz, met with the Ontario Public Library Council (OPLC) to announce a two-year Public Libraries Programme Review (OPLPR). Scarborough’s chief librarian, Peter Bassnett, would be the director and work with a small intermediary group at the outset to plan the review process. Since 1975 he had been chief librarian at Scarborough. Before this appointment, he had managed systems at North York and worked in the UK for many years. The Minister believed a positive approach with abundant consultation would improve the delivery of library services throughout Ontario. The 1970s had been a time of controversy about the role of regional library services, the accountability of library boards, disputes with municipal authorities, the funding provided for libraries by the provincial government, and dissenting viewpoints about policies for future planning. A previous report on provincial libraries by Albert Bowron in 1975 had produced much discussion but no significant legislative changes. Revised public library legislation was the major objective because the older statute, enacted in 1966, had not proved to be as effective as originally expected.

The Ontario Public Libraries Programme Review

The OPLPR established fifteen groups in search of consensus and solutions for many contentious issues. Some groups explored general provincial concerns: policy and social purpose (1), general delivery of services (2), governmental liaison (3), provincial financing and accountability (4), and field services (5). Task groups on planning and development for technological potential (6), electronic information (13), and co-operatives and processing centres (15) addressed technical and networking questions. Special considerations for northern Ontario (7), publishing and libraries (12), and access to resources (14) required separate groups. Finally, four groups studied cultural identities and services for French languages (8), Native services (9), multicultural programs (10), and disabled persons (11). Each group was responsible for a report to Peter Bassnett, who was charged with publishing a final report. In addition, Bassnett held 20 open sessions for discussion and received 368 briefs encompassing a wide variety of issues.

The OPLPR sets its course for a year-and-a-half with the knowledge that the Progressive Conservatives under William Davis had finally secured a majority government in a March 1981 election. Four years would be sufficient to develop new legislation for libraries. The OPLPR submitted seventy-five recommendations by August 1982. By then, there was a new Minister, Bruce McCaffrey, in charge, and, earlier in the year, in February 1982, the MCR had become the Ministry of Citizenship and Culture, with its Library and Community (MCZC) Information Branch relocated in the Arts, Heritage and Libraries division.

The OPLPR report, Ontario Public Libraries: The Provincial Role in a Triad of Responsibilities, was issued, mostly in microfiche to the consternation of many, by autumn 1982 for review by library boards, politicians, and librarians. The Bassnett report made clear-cut statements that cut across the entire spectrum of public library services. It found that the current provincial role performed by the LCIB or OPLC was deficient (p. 68–71). The Report indicated more specific legislation and guidelines were required (p. 93). Lack of awareness about the LCIB and OPLC and their inadequate authority had stalled communication and led to ineffectual provincial leadership. A strengthening of provincial direction within the Ministry through an enlarged staff component to plan and liaise with the library community was essential. A Public Library Services Division and a new advisory body would be required (rec. 7.72 and 7.73). Other recommendations for increased staff for data collection, French-language service, networking, services for disabled persons, aboriginal services, multicultural activity, management, and training responsibilities (p. 168–187) would permit the MCZC to deal with policies that it brought forward. Some ideas originated from background studies or were influenced by general developments such as the 1981 United Nations International Year of Disabled Persons theme ‘Full Participation and Equality.’ Assistance for non-professional staff, mostly untrained persons in charge of small libraries, was an important issue, the subject of one lengthy submission from an ad hoc group of consultants. In one case, the Task Force on Native Services, the main thrust urging the formation of a Council to oversee library services for natives at an estimated $290,000, was disregarded because the group insisted on working outside the framework of the LCIB. The OPLPR’s recommendations on northern Ontario conditions mostly bypassed the ideas from Task group 15 headed by Richard Jones, director of North Central region.

Ontario Library Service after 1984

During the Programme Review, the regional role—now re-titled the intermediary role—was gradually reshaped. A Network Development Office was transferred to the Ministry offices in July 1981 and some LCIB staff worked on a provincial study of union products for resource sharing in regional systems. The OPLPR was wary of multiple regional processing centres and bibliographic data banks. Task force 15 had recommended the Midwestern Region centre become a Crown Corporation. Instead, the OPLPR (p. 164–167) followed the Ministry’s internal report that recommended further study of Midwestern’s possibilities. A new path was clarified: automation and cooperative area networks were to become local level responsibilities supplemented with planning and financial assistance offered by the Province. Centralized regional acquisitions and processing utilities would no longer receive support. The Programme Review recommended intermediary involvement with basic services, such as rotating book collections, staff training, special collections, reference centres, programming for groups, and direct service to municipally unorganized populations. Some briefs authored by administrative groups emphasized long-standing issues such as resource libraries and centralized processing, but these positions were not conclusive.

The key point was the Review’s statement that the intermediary role “is an extension of the Provincial Government’s responsibility and role in the delivery of public library services across Ontario” and that there were currently three types of regional service, “the northern, southern, and Metropolitan Toronto area” (p. 147–148). Northern distinctions warranted more proactive provincial library intermediaries. The southern systems were more complex, so the Review recommended a gradual phase-in over five years to one provincial agency with field offices, starting with Southwestern, Lake Erie, and Niagara (p.154–159). Metro Toronto required amendments to the Municipality of Metropolitan Toronto Act to repeal the Metro Library Board’s status as a regional library system and to authorize more sitting Metro Council members for the upper-level board. Provincial funding for the Metro Board would need an examination to determine what special purposes the province wanted to accomplish with its legislative payments (p. 160–164).

At the local level, the OPLPR made forty-two recommendations clarifying functions and management. Several recommendations would eventually make their way into the revised Library Act almost three years later in 1985. In place of standards, boards should embark on community analysis; boards should provide services their communities desired or needed; legislation for free entry to libraries and use of materials should be enacted; and services for particular groups (e.g., the disabled and Francophones) should be augmented with provincial assistance. Capital funds should be made available because only a few libraries had shared in the brief Wintario capital construction program in the late 1970s before the government redirected it to other purposes. Funding from programs such as Wintario and the Board of Industrial Leadership was important but episodic. Special funding for the creation of county-regional municipal systems and enrichment of per capita grants to northern libraries was a desideratum. Some recommendations addressed the composition of boards and their relationship with appointing bodies by affording municipal councils more control. The century-old traditional board of nine members, with the majority composed of public and separate school appointees from larger county school boards, was a leftover from the 1960s restructuring of school authorities. Now, municipal councils should make all the appointments (p. 116). In summarizing the provincial conditional grant to libraries, the Review found little change over ten years: the 1971 grant had totalled $8,552 million (20% of total support), and in 1981, $25,279 million (19% of total support). The Bassnett report recommended continuing payment of annual grants directly to boards. On the issue of non-operating boards, currently in 136 communities, the Report recommended the grant be paid only if municipal revenue matched its grant (p. 132–135). This policy, along with the promotion of larger units of service in counties and upper-tier municipalities, had the potential to halve the total number of boards.

The Bassnett report concluded by drafting a policy statement regarding public library service (p. 188–192). Ultimately, provincial goals should be:
▪ provision of public library legislation ensuring free access and delivery of services;
▪ encouragement and support for municipal libraries;
▪ ensuring library collections reflect the population characteristics of their jurisdictions;
▪ encouragement and assistance for technological changes;
▪ development of a province-wide public information utility by networking municipal libraries; and
▪ provision of funding and staff support to achieve these goals.

The cost of expanding provincial support was not expensive: Task Group 4 estimated a 10.5% increase from $25.7 million to $28.5 million (p. 194). At the former regional levels, expenses could be reduced by 40 percent and be redirected to augment the proposed public library service division. In terms of the Public Libraries Act, the OPLPR recommended a complete overhaul. In response to the OPLPR, Bruce McCaffrey announced at the November 1982 Ontario Library Association conference in Toronto that his Ministry preferred to issue a ‘green paper’ for more discussion without any specific commitment to action, A Foundation for the Future/Réalitiés et Perspectives. This ‘green paper,’ released in December 1982, would form the basis for legislative changes. In February 1983, Wil Vanderelst, from the MCZC policy secretariat, became the new director of the LCIB, now shifted to the Ministry’s Culture and Regional Services Division. While the Ontario Public Libraries report had sought consensus on many issues, in fact, its author, Peter Bassnett, expressed dissatisfaction with the ‘green paper’ in the Toronto Star in May 1983. He felt many of his recommendations had been passed over or modified. Such was the fate of many recommendations in the OPLPR: finding consensus in the library community was an uncommonly difficult task.

Programme Review Outcomes

There were, however, positive outcomes of the OPLPR. Municipal councils gained more control over library board appointments, thus ending a decade-long struggle. Free access to a variety materials became an important feature of new legislation enacted in 1985. The Province reiterated its support for conditional grants paid directly to library boards. The conflict and confusion about regional library boards was reduced when the province took control of southern and northern ‘intermediary’ services and began to deliver targeted policies, such as Francophone concerns, disabled programs, and improved service to indigenous communities. The review, which appeared at the same time when ‘turnkey systems’ were beginning to provide integrated solutions for library functions, proposed extensive automation projects be supported by provincial studies (p. 166). The idea of equalization of services addressed on large geographic scale came firmly into play. In fact, after almost four decades, very few changes have been made to the original 1984–85 legislation; again, one of the accomplishments that may be traced to the Bassnett report.

My blog on the 1975 report by Albert Bowron, The Ontario Public Library: Review and Reorganization, is at this link.

Marshall McLuhan: Libraries: Past, Present, Future, 1970

Libraries: Past, Present, Future. An Address delivered by Marshall McLuhan at the Geneseo State College Library School, New York State, on July 3, 1970 for the 13th annual Mary C. Richardson lectures series. Typescript, 32 leaves.

 From the mid-1960s into the 1970s, Marshall McLuhan was sought out as a speaker across North America. The media theorist had coined the famous expression “the medium is the message,” categorized media as “hot” or “cool,” and spoke of an interconnected world as a “global village.” His ideas were controversial and often expressed in a somewhat ambiguous or aphoristic style. One of his messages about the dominance in contemporary society of electronic media, especially television, to the detriment of printed books and newspapers, gave many librarians cause for concern about the future of libraries and traditional print media. Canada’s National Librarian, W.K. Lamb, refused to believe that the book was becoming obsolete. In an interview, he held that the books could be reproduced using computerized telecommunications and that libraries would use computing to automate catalogues to make books available for loan (Ottawa Citizen, 17 June 1967). Daniel Gore, in a November 1970 issue of American Libraries, said, “McLuhan is merely a recent example of the learned man who despises books; the phenomenon itself is ancient.”  Robert B. Downs, in his Books That Changed America, published by Macmillan in 1970, completely rejected McLuhan assertions on the declining fortune of print: “Denigrators of books, such as Marshall McLuhan, would have us believe that books are obsolescent, being rapidly superseded by the newer media. Thus they would hold that books have had their day—possibly significant and influential in earlier eras, but now on the way to becoming museum pieces” by citing the societal impact of popular authors Rachel Carson and Ralph Nader.

Marshall McLuhan and the Future of Books and Libraries

Mary Richardson, c.1933

    Yet, McLuhan’s use of the hot-button word “obsolete” pointed more to the trend that printed media were less ascendant and subject to changing technology rather than non-usage and extinction. He made this point in his address at the School of Library Science at the State University College of New York College in Geneseo in July 1970. SUNY Geneseo was a liberal arts college which had conferred American Library Association fully-accredited library degrees since the Second World War. The special occasion was the thirteen annual Mary C. Richardson Lecture, named in honour of a former departmental director who had a special interest in school libraries. Dr. Richardson was Librarian and Head of the Geneseo Library Education Department from 1917–1941. McLuhan clarified his remarks about obsolescence briefly:

I have been saying that the book and printing are obsolete for some years. Many people interpret this to mean that printing and the book are about to disappear. Obsolescence, in fact, means the exact opposite. It means that a service has become so pervasive that it permeates every area of a culture like the vernacular itself. Obsolescence, in short, ensures total acceptance and every wider use. (28)

    McLuhan’s use of obsolescence on a broader scale referred to traditional media adapting to technological change by changing their form or usage. Henry Campbell, the chief librarian at Toronto Public Library, picked up on this point when McLuhan’s fame was accelerating. Writing in the May 1965 issue of the Wilson Library Bulletin, he posed the question: “Some of us in Canada are asking: Are libraries hot or cool? Is there a place for libraries in an electronic culture, one of simultaneity, or are they by their very nature trapped in a linear and nonsensory mold that spells their doom?” Campbell did not answer, but he suggested librarians must raise questions about knowledge in all its aspects to know more about librarianship as a profession.

    The Geneseo talk to students and faculty concentrated on the history and current state of libraries in a wide-ranging McLuhanesque fashion. He linked the history of libraries to different eras of media formats—ancient clay tablets and scrolls, medieval codices and manuscripts, the Gutenberg print revolution that enabled rapid knowledge sharing, and the 20th-century electronic environment. As McLuhan saw it, “One of the revolutionary effects of Gutenberg for libraries was that the printed book was both portable and expendable. Uniform and repetitive or mass produced commodities had their beginning with the printed book. The Gutenberg technology of union, moveable types became the pattern and exemplar for all subsequent forms of mass production.” (22) Libraries of all types in the modern sense, he believed, began to flourish with the mass-produced book with an emphasis on the problems of storage and systems of book classification (23). Now, “the paperless, or software library, brings the Gutenberg assembly line of movable types into an altogether new circle of magical effects.” (26) These effects, the new speed of electronic transmission applied to the traditional book, would result in its “strange alternation of use and function. (28) Further,

With the multitude of new forms of photography and reprography, the diversities of utterance and self-outering [sic] have come into being. On the one hand, pictures supplant a great deal of verbal expression and, on the other hand, the verbal acquires an extraordinary new range of resonance and implications. (31)

    McLuhan was less prescriptive about the future of the libraries. To be sure, libraries would continue to exist, but the effects of the all-pervasive electronic world would lead to the release of unknown intents or controls, like the trends and processes unknowingly released by Gutenberg more than five centuries before. McLuhan was forecasting the influence of powerful global media that would erode geographic boundaries and cultural insularity. At Geneseo, he hinted that libraries would continue to connect authors with readers just as they had in the small departmental English library he had used as an undergraduate at Cambridge many years before.

Further Reading:

Parts of the McLuhan 1970 address are incorporated in R.K. Logan and M. McLuhan, The Future of the Library: From Electric Media to Digital Media (New York: Peter Lang, 2016). This book reproduces and supplements an unpublished manuscript dating to 1979 that McLuhan and Logan co-authored.

An earlier talk by Marshall McLuhan to Ontario librarians is the subject of one of my earlier blogs.

Four eastern Canadian library associations convene at Montreal, April 1939

Canadian Interprovincial Library Cooperation Begins in the 1930s

The scope for library collaboration across Canada broadened in the 1930s when more provincial library associations were formally organized in Quebec (1932), the Maritimes (1935), and Manitoba (1936). When these new groups joined the established library associations in Ontario (1900) and British Columbia library (1911), liaising more effectively on a west-west axis became possible. For three decades, Canadian librarians had looked to the south—to the American Library Association (ALA) or Pacific Northwest Library (PNLA) Association—to establish professional relationships. Although sporadic attempts to found a national library organization had floundered, library changes at the provincial level and the development of regional libraries were proving to be more successful. The Montreal Special Libraries Association and Library Association of Ottawa provided the groundwork for hosting larger conferences in large cities. Now, there was a firmer basis to move forward on broader issues,

    After the economic slump of the early 1930s, North American librarianship was invigorated by the catchword “cooperation.”  When the ALA returned to Montreal in 1934 for a convention, it debated an American “National Plan” to improve access and mitigate local and state tax inequities. As well, the concept of a Canadian Library Council to represent libraries on a national basis was revived and a decision was made to re-establish an association of Maritime libraries. Three years later, British Columbia librarians and Americans in the PNLA mixed pleasure with business at Harrison Hot Springs in the Fraser Valley on Labour Day weekend, 1937. They saw first-hand the success of the Fraser Valley Regional Library, discussed the issue of trade unionism, and debated whether library collections should aim to be primarily “highbrow” or “lowbrow.” Earlier in the same year, the OLA had met with other associations outside its traditional location, Toronto. At the request of Ottawa’s mayor and city library groups, the OLA, Quebec Library Association (QLA), Ottawa Library Association, the Montreal Special Libraries Association, and two delegates from the Maritime Library Institute held joint sessions at the Chateau Laurier on Victoria Day weekend, 24–25 May. This meeting was the first inter-provincial library gathering to be held in Canada. Dorothy Carlisle, OLA President 1936–37, and other officials hosted almost 250 delegates. A notable speaker on “Books, Readers, and Reviewers” was Martin Burrell, the Librarian of Parliament since 1920, who was known as a politician and writer. Other federal officials expressed a desire to cooperate with libraries, notably with the publication and distribution of government documents. A library “bonne entente” was established, and, subsequently, the OLA accepted an invitation by the QLA to Canada’s metropolitan centre, Montreal, for 1939.

Joint Conference of the Ontario, Quebec and Montreal Special Library Associations and the Maritime Library Institute, Montreal, April 10–11, 1939

The Joint Conference of Canadian Librarians in Montreal, 1939    

In April 1939, at Montreal’s stately Windsor Hotel, a short time before the arrival of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth, the QLA and OLA joined with the Montreal Special Libraries Association and delegates from the Maritime Library Institute. Members from the recently formed Eastern Townships Library Association and the library group of the Professional Institute of Civil Service of Canada also attended. It was evident a European conflict was fast approaching. Poland and Britain had recently agreed to a treaty to forestall German aggression. The approaching Royal Visit to Newfoundland and Canada in May and June reminded Canadians of their British ties. Over the Easter weekend, newspapers carried the story of Italian forces occupying Albania. The OLA’s President, Kathleen (Moyer) Elliott, from Galt (now Cambridge), relied on Rudyard Kipling to inspire her audience: “If civilization is really slipping from us nothing is to be gained by stopping work to worry. If the values in which we believe are yet to triumph, then the very best we can do is to keep on keeping on.” Kipling’s exhortation to stay the course was wise guidance in spring 1939.

Nora Bateson, n.d.

    The Presidents of the Quebec Library Association and Montreal Special Libraries Association, Helen Haultain and Beatrice Howell, welcomed conference-goers on Monday. There were more than two hundred in attendance anticipating speeches and business meetings. The Montreal joint conference reprised many of the decade’s library developments and presented initiatives for further activity. The speech by the new Director of Libraries in Nova Scotia, Nora Bateson, was perhaps the first-day highlight. She spoke about her efforts to form regional libraries in Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia. For as little as thirty-five cents a taxpayer, good regional service could be organized in Nova Scotia. Bateson proposed spending this levy on books and services rather than buildings. Another highlight was a meeting of children’s librarians: Mary Falconer (Halifax), Donalda Putnam (Montreal), and Jean Thomson (Toronto) described services, especially storytelling, in their respective areas. Lillian Smith presided over this session and subsequently used the opportunity to form the Canadian Association of Children’s Librarians (CACL). This new national association, regional in scope at first, was perhaps a response to Smith’s recent observation in an ALA publication that a “sense of isolation” was a chief handicap felt by many children’s librarians. The CACL met in Hamilton in October 1939 and spread westward during WWII to include librarians such as Amy Hutchinson (New Westminster) and Louise Riley (Calgary). It would become part of the Canadian Library Association in 1946.

  Major A.L. Normandin, head of Public Printing and Stationery at Ottawa, discussed the governmental distribution and current listings of national publications. Many librarians, such as W.S Wallace at the University of Toronto, had been pressing the Dominion government to publish a monthly and annual checklist of Canadian federal publications to replace the unsatisfactory annual price list of in-print publications begun shortly before WWI. Normandin was sympathetic, but it would not be until 1953 that the Queen’s Printer would publish daily and monthly check lists with annual accumulations.

    Two McGill representatives, Philip J. Turner, School of Architecture, and Colonel Wilfrid J. Bovey, Director of Extramural Relations and Extension, addressed delegates on architecture and French-Canadian cultural achievements. Turner had overseen the remodelling of the Westmount Public Library in 1936. The colonel’s presentation caught the attention of the Montreal press, especially Le Devoir: Bovey “rendu un mangnifique témoignage aux Canadiens français.” La Presse, the Montreal Gazette and the Montreal Daily Star were also impressed with the McGill presentations.

E.C. Kyte, n.d.

Another speech by Queen’s University director, Ernest Cockburn Kyte, caught the most attention in English-speaking newspapers. His address was “A Canadian National Library,” by now a familiar theme to librarians but not the general public. Kyte cited the need to collect Canadiana of all sorts but not overstate the need for a new building. He emphasized the urgency to begin collecting immediately. His comments attracted a supportive editorial in the Montreal Daily Star: “It is therefore to be hoped that the committee which has been appointed by the librarians to achieve a national institution will be successful in its efforts and that the public will heartily support the project. Self-respect on the part of Canadians should go far to assure this.” An act to establish a national library came into force in 1953.

Conference Outcomes    

One immediate positive news note at the conference highlighted successful efforts to achieve a Library Book Rate, a postal subsidy authorized by the Postmaster General. Across Canada, sending books by mail was becoming commonplace and was regarded as an educational asset. The 1930–33 Commission of Enquiry led by John Ridington, George Locke, and Mary Black had supported the concept of a reduced postal rate for library books. British Columbia and Ontario librarians had begun to advocate for this rate in briefs and letters to the government. After the Canada and Newfoundland Education Association also supported reduced rates in 1938, the Ontario College of Education surveyed a hundred major libraries in early 1939. The survey revealed more than 300,000 books, excluding book packages, had been issued. Clearly, books-by-mail was becoming a substantial activity. Conference-goers were pleased to learn that a federal book rate would be introduced shortly. By the summer of 1939, a special rate came into effect. Books passing between libraries and their patrons within the same province would be assessed at 5¢ for the first pound and 1¢ for each additional pound. Canadian librarians and educators could toast a small victory.

    The 1939 Canadian library conference in Montreal raised many subjects that would continue to resonate in the library community into future years: subsidized postal book rates, a national library in Ottawa, improved children’s services, regional library systems, and better bibliographic control of government publications. It was at this conference that the Canadian Association of Children’s Librarians was established. The most significant step, of course, proposed by E.C. Kyte, was the formation of a Canadian Library Association which would continue annual conferences such as the successful one in Montreal. The Commission of Enquiry had supported the idea of a national association and a national library in the depths of the Great Depression but believed conditions were not sufficient for their establishment. By the late 1930s, Canadian libraries had recovered from the worst effects of the global depression; however, wartime restrictions would force librarians and libraries to wait seven years longer for a Dominion-wide association to be formed.

Additional library history blog postings:

The 1930–33 Commission of Enquiry (2013)

Nora Bateson’s regional efforts in the Maritimes (2014)

Two Fraser Valley films: The Fraser Valley Public Library (c. 1932) and The Library on Wheels (1945)

Fraser Valley Public Library, 16 mm., b & w., 12 minutes, c. 1932. British Columbia Public Library Commission. Photographed and produced by H. Norman Lidster.

The Library on Wheels, 16 mm., b & w, 14 minutes, 1945. National Film Board of Canada. Produced by Gudrun Parker and directed by Bill MacDonald.

The use of 16 mm. films for the promotion of Canadian library services began in earnest with Hugh Norman Lidster during the Great Depression. He was a practicing lawyer, a councillor, and a library board member in New Westminster, BC. In 1929, Lidster was appointed to the British Columbia Public Library Commission, a position to which he made many contributions until his retirement in 1966. In addition to his local and provincial contributions, he was active on the national level and received an Award of Merit from the Canadian Library Trustees’ Association in 1962. Lidster became an avid “home movie” enthusiast in the twenties and bought his first movie camera in 1930. Within a few years, he began to document local events and to promote the new Fraser Valley library regional demonstration funded by the Carnegie Corporation of New York from 1930-34. At some point, likely in 1932, Lidster decided to film the library’s new book van on its travels. Fortunately, his work has been preserved; consequently, we can view many of this region’s early community libraries, deposit stations, schools, its rural landscape and mountains, gravel roads, and even the old Agassiz-Rosedale ferry, which was replaced by a bridge in 1956.
 

The Norman Lidster Film of the Fraser Valley book van in 1932

Norman Lidster’s film is essentially a promotional film to showcase the Carnegie demonstration. It shows library service in the Fraser Valley and follows the book van on its routes from community to community. The film depicts various aspects of the library service and perhaps shows a brief closeup of the energetic director-librarian, Helen Gordon Stewart, at the outset. For today’s viewers, the smaller Canadian communities of the Fraser in the early 1930s appear by 21st century standards to be underdeveloped in terms of technology and economics. Even a decade and a half later, when the Library on Wheels was produced, this same impression prevails. Still, we must consider that Canada was less urbanized at this time: the valley’s principal towns were Abbotsford and Chilliwack, each with about 1,000 population or less. Forestry and farming were major sectors in a resource-based economy. Canada’s economy was growing on an international basis, and its gross domestic product ranked with countries such as Argentina, Poland, and Spain. Postwar economic growth in commercial industry, trade, services, and tourism would, of course, introduce many changes. Today the Fraser Valley Regional Library serves about 700,000 people.

Fraser Valley book van exiting ferry, ca 1932

 

Serving the rural population in BC was a key goal of the Provincial Public Library Commission Lidster served on. An important BC survey conducted in 1927 recommended that larger administrative library districts based on cooperation between municipalities and school districts would best serve rural communities that could not afford to fund local libraries for improving standards. Fortunately, the Carnegie Corporation of New York awarded a grant of $100,000 to operate a multi-year library project, which commenced in 1930. A notable feature of this project was its book van that traversed an area of approximately 1,000 square miles. The van made regular stops at small community association libraries, filling stations, grocery stores, and country corners. At each stop, it displayed books on its exterior covered shelves for people, young and old, to browse.

 
The experiment in regional library service proved to be quite successful. At its conclusion each community voted whether to continue the regional library with local taxes. Twenty municipalities agreed to do so, and in autumn 1934, a union library (FVUL) was formally established at a ceremony held in Chilliwack. The provincial government provided additional funding to encourage growth.

Eager readers at bookmobile in Fraser Valley, 1945

The National Film Board film The Library on Wheels, 1945

The FVUL was a successful model. Two more union regional libraries were formed in B.C., one on Vancouver Island and another in the Okanagan Valley, before Gudrun Parker, a Winnipeg born film producer who began her career with the National Film Board (NFB) during the Second World War, teamed up with the NFB director Bill MacDonald. He was a talented writer with a particular interest in conservation and outdoor sports, especially fishing. Together, they made an enjoyable reprise of the book van’s travels from its headquarters at Abbotsford in the Fraser region throughout four weeks in 1944. The NFB crew interacted with many residents during filming. Later, MacDonald recounted: “They took us into their confidence and they told us what they thought of the library and showed us the books they liked to read.” With sound, of course, the Library on Wheels is entertaining because it is also professionally edited. Gudrun Parker, who eventually would receive the Order of Canada for her body of work in 2005, credited one source of inspiration as Richard Crouch, the chief librarian of London, Ont. Crouch travelled across Canada on a Carnegie grant administered by the Canadian Library Council during the war. He was noted for his advocacy for the role of the “library in the community.” Two years later, in 1947, Parker and Crouch collaborated again, this time to produce the NFB short film, New Chapters, which documented the London library’s cultural and leisure activities in the Forest City. The later film received less promotion and was eclipsed in popularity by yet another bookmobile film of the same year, The Books Drive On, which highlighted libraries and communities in the Ontario county of Huron.

The Library on Wheels proved to be an influential asset for library promoters after WWII. Proponents of regional libraries in the west, especially in Saskatchewan, used the film to establish better rural services linked by newer bookmobiles rather than truck vans. Today, both films still resonate with the spirit of our open country and Canadians’ love of books.

Norman Lidster’s film can be viewed on YouTube here.

 

Watch the NFB’s 1945 Library on Wheels at this link.

 

My blog on the the Huron County bookmobile, Miss Huron, is at this link.