poetry for all?

Yesterday, as stated, I went to see a very eminent herbalist - of the Miss Marple kind, not a crystal-waving hippie - who has kindly laughed in the face of my worst fears and given me a magic potion to drink. He says it is like watching flowers grow: if I look for changes in how I feel every day I won't see them, but if I look every week, I probably will. It's hard to describe how cheered I was by his predictions.

To celebrate - and hoping to do some research to back up a book review I have to write this week - I got on a bus to Waterloo, to check out the newly-reopened Poetry Library in the Royal Festival Hall. Now, I love the Poetry Library. I don't think I can overstate the part it played in bedding me down into the poetry publishing world: many's the whole day I've spent looking at magazines there (back when I didn't know where to send to) and borrowing books and books and reading more books, and copying things down, and just being happy and in my element. It's been closed for something like two years for refurbishment, during which time it has been a sad gap, and even its much-enhanced website hasn't been able to fill its place.

So I went, excitedly; I excitedly rejoined (yay!); I ran into my friend Dean, who works there, who worried me by saying he has pictures taken of me at my friend Annie's wedding ( but he says they don't make me look fat); and I began to look around. I did find lovely things to do and to read, but my hopes of research were a bit cruelly dashed - not helped by a severe energy failure shortly after I arrived, which made me decide to take the path of least resistance, meaning I didn't engage a librarian in a huge long search on my behalf. But anyway that's not my style; I prefer to poke around and find things organically. And I do know roughly the sort of thing I'm looking for.

In the end I copied some things out, and found some books to borrow (not by any means the first ones I looked for), and went downstairs to fortify myself with coffee for the trip home. Prompted by a comment on my last post, I've listed my thoughts on the new poetry library. Because it doesn't seem as much the new-&-improved flagship establishment as I was hoping. Not so much revamped as rearranged. None of this means I don't love it, and I will certainly be going there as usual. But:

1. Why are (some - not all) books of criticism mixed in with the poetry collections?? Jesus! What's that about?!?

2. The loan collection seems not much added to - it is looking, in fact, sadly tatty. And several books I was hoping to borrow simply weren't there; can it be that so many people have been there since the reopening that everything you'd want is on loan? Paul Farley's new collection, for example, was nowhere to be seen in the whole library, unless I was missing something arcane.

The lovely spandy books at the back - acquired in the past two years - are all for reference only. I just think the loan collection is looking distinctly tired and a bit depressing... I realise this isn't the library's fault, and the space is ridiculously small, and the website looks great, but it would be so wonderful to see it looking a bit more - you know - vibrant...

3. The loan collection up to, I think, M, is in the rolly-shelf bits in the middle. It makes browsing almost impossible.

4. I wanted to look at some Rosemary Tonks - well, I really want to own some, but it's so expensive. Why will no one republish her! Her books are hard to find and, okay, there were none for loan. But there were none for reference either! Only on mentioning it later at the desk did I discover that they are in the Rare Books Section. I hadn''t even thought about there being a Rare Books Section.

On the other hand, the selected poems of Harry Fainlight - just as rare as Tonks, certainly it fetches the same price online - was right there in reference, fine in original Steadman d/w, waiting to be stolen! The librarian didn't seem to see anything in this, as I implored him to put Harry in the Rare Books Section too.

5. There do seem to be far fewer magazines on display. I was consoled by one of them being the current Poetry Salzburg Review, which has some of mine in it. Hurrah!

6. The tables are both smaller & fewer. And closer together. The reading cubicles at the back are ridiculously claustrophobic, tiny and too close - you're practically rubbing shoulders with the next person, and with your back to the room! I will never use them.

7. To be honest, I came away thinking that my lit crit section here at home is as useful, and that there are some books - some quite expensive - that I will still need to buy, unless I were to take my laptop there and spend a whole day typing out, say, a whole book. Unless a wealthy benefactor can be found.

On the plus side: the audio section looks spacious, there are some lovely typographical artworks in the front, and it was busy - lots of people were in there. Clearly it is being used, which is a great thing.