The Library Giveth and the Library Taketh Away

I used to think I knew how to be a cheapskate. In a class of 20+ people I was the only one at the beginning of the semester to rent his textbook from the library at the unbelievably low rate of 2 visits to the library web page per month.

The Library, however, reminded of the great power she wields over her patrons (and possibly the reason other people do not so readily submit to her influence) a few weeks later when she recalled my book.

Apparently some other patron had been deemed more in need of the book than I and, having already used it for more than a month, I was informed both by email and a regular letter written on bright green paper that I needed to return the book or face a steep penalty.

The whole prospect seemed pretty dubious. Who could possibly want this book more than I do? How do I know they still need it and didn't just go and buy it somewhere? Why didn't they recall the other copy that was due about the same time as mine?

I visited the library to ask. I asked half in earnest and half hoping to elicit some bit of information that I could use to track down the would-be library patron and break his library card!

The Library is caring. She does not reveal that kind of information about her patrons.

Well, I relented and gave the book back. I was sad, but only for a little bit.

You see, I've found a new mistress: the bookstore! Though certainly more expensive up front, the bookstore doesn't care what I do with my book.

I found a book that was obviously new except for a minor tear on the first page that was repaired. I got it for the used price.

As I walked home, I couldn't stop looking at my new book. It was the same book I'd already had from the library and a book that I would never have bought if it weren't for this class, but just knowing that this book was mine, that it would accompany for as long as I kept track of it filled me with inexplicable joy. It was a mixture between the satisfaction of having indulged in a slightly luxurious purchase (I can't buy many things for $95 without running out of money) and having a new friend. I inhaled the exquisite aroma of its never-before-read pages. I held it in my hands, trying to grasp just exactly what its dimensions are. I put my hand across its cover and imagined testifying in court after being sworn in by putting my hand on such a very attractive book.* I even imagined myself reading the book and went so far as to pretend to read it.

In the end, I was happy. Maybe that's what the Library wanted all along.

*Note: The author does not mean to suggest that the book is of more value than scripture. Its exposition of Maxwell's equations, however, is based on some of the most certain and best-tested science in existence (at least on the scales we usually talk about). We must overlook Griffiths' apparent abuse of the notion of hidden momentum.