THE ENORMOUS ROOM

In view of the often mentioned fact that Widener was compelled to critical service to the community for lack of funds, it is only natural that a critical eye should be turned on certain of its expenditures whose justification, if it exists, does not appear on the surface. The inconvenience caused by Widener's early closing hours does not need to be rehearsed again, but it remains true that the situation ought to be adjusted, as presumably it would be, were the necessary funds made available.

The Poetry Room, which was established two years ago in memory of Professor Woodberry, is a particularly glaring example of an expenditure of money with no valid reason. It was set apart on the third floor of Widener, comfortably furnished, enriched with volumes from Any Lowell's library, and endowed with a fund to buy current books of poetry and pay for occasional lectures. From time to time exhibits of valuable books and manuscripts have been arranged. An always, in a steady stream, little books of verse, neatly bound in the appropriate colors, have trickled in to take their places on the shelves. The Poetry Room, in brief, is supplied with everything which a special library should have, except people to read the books.

Anyone whose curiosity impels him to visit it will find almost always that, except for an attendant, he is quite alone, and for good reason. Very few of the volumes dumped into the Poetry Room are worth the trouble of reading, and those which are, most often will be found only after a tedious search. There is no catalogue system in use, and the small size of most of the volumes makes them particularly difficult to detect. An its inaccessibility is of course, a contributing factor in the unpopularity of the Room.

There is a further and more important objection than these, however, to the very idea which the Poetry Room embodies. It stands for an artificial sentiment about poetry as a kind of writing which requires to be set off by itself and cradled in an arty setting of red velvet to distinguish it from its weaker brethren. In the atmosphere of the Woodberry Memorial, poetry becomes a minor specialty, with no discernible relationship to anything vital, but somehow valuable for sentimental associations. This is an attitude to which a great many people subscribe without feeling that a trip to the third floor of Widener is quite worth the effort involved. Antagonism to this idea receives a crowning justification from the low level of taste revealed in the selection of the books which go into the collection. The liberality of Morris Gray in providing a fund for the purchase of modern poetry apparently was so great that almost anything is liable to turn up on the shelves provided that it was printed yesterday rime and meter.

Unquestionably the Poetry Room has been in existence long enough to demonstrate its value to the library and to the reader of poetry. It has failed to do so because it has no real justification, material or otherwise. Under the circumstances any expenditure of money on it not strictly necessitated by the nature of its endowment can hardly be justified.