The Library of Congress

 On a recent trip to Virginia, we crammed a lot into our one day in Washington D.C., then split up for our last two hours.

Keith and Anna went to a Smithsonian museum, and Amy, Lani, and I officially became nerds. Of all the things to see in Washington D.C., we chose The Library of Congress.

I was thrilled. The Library of Congress is the book lover’s equivalent of Mecca. For years I’ve seen Library of Congress numbers on almost every book I’ve read.

We walked in the door of their first building and I started to take a picture. “You can’t take pictures in here,” a clerk snapped.

Immediately self-conscious, I lowered the camera.

A lady stepped around me, slid her pass through a scanner, and disappeared around the corner. Oh no. We didn’t have a pass.  

The clerk asked impatiently, “Can I help you?”

My girls waited for me to answer. Temporarily tongue-tied, I just stared at her.

The clerk snapped, “Y’all speak English?”

My mind cleared and I asked about tours. She directed us across the street, saying we couldn’t take pictures until we went through security.  

The girls recognized the second building from the movie National Treasure.

I think it’s the most beautiful building I’ve ever seen. Every square inch of the floors, walls, ceilings, and stairs are decorated with marble, tile, mosaics, murals, and sculptures.

A video got us even more excited to be at such a cool place. Our tour guide obviously loved his job. Who wouldn’t? The guide described the building’s history, design, and special features. After fifteen minutes we had only seen one ornate staircase. During his lecture on an elaborate ceiling mosaic, Lani whispered, “Mom, this is boring.”

It’s against Vik rules to say “bored” or its variations. However, while I might find lectures on fancy ceilings interesting, my daughters did not. We ditched the tour and struck off on our own.

We found the great reading room and I thought I had died and gone to heaven. It’s huge, beautiful, and inviting. 

We would be better people if we could just read one book in that magnificent room. We saw people in there but couldn’t see how they got in. An employee said the room was only for researchers.

I told Amy, “You have to be smarter to use that room.”

We saw a Gutenberg Bible on display. This Bible was the first major book printed with movable type in the West and the first produced on a printing press in the world. There are only twenty-one surviving complete copies.

I took a picture, only to be snapped at by a fellow tourist. “You’re not supposed to take pictures of it.” Sure enough, a sign forbid taking pictures of the Bible. I plead ignorance but I’m not sorry to have this picture.

We saw exhibits which would have been interesting if we had expected a museum. When you visit a Smithsonian Museum, you expect a museum. When you’re at The Library of Congress, you expect a library. At the very least, a congress of some sort.

We couldn’t stand it any longer and asked an employee, “Where are the books?”

She explained there weren’t physical books for visitors to see. They store books in various places in three buildings. Researchers can use the facility, but the average life-long bookaholic cannot.

Oh the cruel irony. To be in the largest library in the world, a place with 34 million books and not be able to touch a book was unbearable and inexcusable.

We had expected floor after floor, stack after glorious stack of books. Not a museum. Their display of the contents of Lincoln’s pockets the night he died was a small consolation when we expected a complete Nancy Drew collection.

To be fair, we only had an hour and even if we could access their books, one can only look at so many books in an hour. To be fair, if we hadn’t ditched the tour, we wouldn’t have asked employees stupid questions or took pictures of things we weren’t supposed to.

Their gift shop was fun AND it had books. (I sense a method to their madness.) 

The girls dragged me out and we left to meet Keith and Anna.

Despite my huge disappointment. I came away happy. The building’s beauty alone makes the trip worthwhile. Even though we couldn’t see their books, I knew they were there. I understand the concept. I applaud their work. A collection of 35 million books is amazing, whether I could see them or not. I wished I had more time to look and listen. Now that I know what to expect, I’d love to go back.

"Children are made readers on the laps of their parents."

--Emilie Buchwald--