Although Lamont fans like to consider it a model in every respect, McNiff does not proselyte for its list of titles, which fills a 572-page catalogue. In his introduction to the book, McNiff explodes any theories that it might be intended as an "ideal theoretical listing." The books in Lamont are chosen to serve the needs of undergraduates as far as required or recommended reading in their courses is concerned, nothing more.

Limitations

Because of these limitations on the size and scope of the collection, specialists will find little to interest them beyond the glass doors and the pink marble foyer. Lamont's collections of books on such subjects as law, business, education, agriculture, and the fine arts are purposely small. Although the percentage of books on science has risen somewhat since the opening of the library, by far the greater part of the collection falls under headings dean to the hearts of the humanities and social sciences instructors. The esoteric book has no place on Lamon's shelves. For better or worse, that seems to be that. At any rate, it's intentional.

Functionality was the keyword when Lamont was on the drafting board, and from the librarian's point of view it has lived up to this ideal perfectly. Despite increases in the number of books and in the number of people to use the building, the library staff is now smaller, than when it opened. A flexible coordination of work between Widener and Lamont makes this possible, with members of the staff scuttling through the tunnels from the old building to the new to meet rush hour demands. The worst press comes at night and on noon Saturdays, when reserve books go out for the night or for the weekend, and although the building was designed with four floodgates in the main entrance for checking out books at such times, more than two are seldom opened. This results in a good deal of confusion and delay, but that is the student's worry.

Like Jordan Marsh

Mobbing of the reserve book desk is another problem at these times, and the spirit of the occasion comes close to that of a Jordan Marsh reduction sale. McNiff sees no sure fire solution to this problem, but is considering establishing waiting lines for reserve books during rush periods. This might at least give the debacles the more dignified air of the Cambridge Trust Company at 1:55 Friday afternoon.

Nevertheless, McNiff likes his Glass Palace. His highest praise for it is this: "If the library staff were to start over from scratch with the experience of the last five years, we would make only minor changes." As far as its staff is concerned, Lamont seems to have passed the test of time as well as was expected--which was very well indeed.

To the undergraduate too, Lamont seems to have proven its worth. Not only has it made for itself a secure and prominent place in his mythology, but it has captured--either through its charm or more likely through its necessity--his statistical approval. Although McNiff belittles the importance of circulation figures in a library where books can be taken from the shelves, read, and replaced without anyone being the wiser, he does have records where records can be kept. They are impressive.

Reserve books, a category which includes almost all the assigned reading for Gen Ed and other required courses, have by far the largest turnover. The library did its best business last fall at the time of the November hour exams, when 3,200 reserved volumes were passed out in one day. The smallest single day's turnover so far this year was early in December when only 951 books crossed the reserve desk. In the month of November 22,000 books went into outside circulation, as compared with 20,000 the previous year. Despite his lack of concern for figures, McNiff displays suitable pride in the fact that Lamont has done more business this year than ever before, and hopes to do more still by expanding its services and attractions.

Distribution of required texts may be the library's basic concern, but its ambitions go much further. Lamont is already working with the aural end of education, and plans to do more. On the fifth level lies what is perhaps the library's greatest showpiece: the Woodberry Poetry Room. Here, surrounded by the supreme effort of Lamont's interior decorators, is the library's fast-growing collection of records and tapes--covering quite completely the fields of ballad and verse, with a good number of dramatic readings thrown in. The tape collection, as yet uncatalogued, includes a number of lectures and readings given at the University in the past few years, and is increasing in size from day to day. McNiff hopes to draw more attention to the collections through a proposed series of poetry hours, which might consist of readings, lectures, or discussion.

Criticisms

Another of his ambitions in the field of sound is to set up a freshman record library under the supervision of the Lamont staff, since freshmen have no access to House musical libraries. Already under way, although not as popular as he had hoped, are Friday symphony hours in the fifth level Forum Room. Here an FM radio is available each Friday afternoon for listening to the efforts of Boston's highly-touted symphony. Groups of listeners have been small to date, but McNiff intends to continue the practice with a little more publicity.

But in spite of all this, Lamont Library is not dear to the hearts of all undergraduates. The reverse is often the case. The bulk of criticism of the Glass Palace is aimed not at specific failures in its services, but at its personality.

Students level only two main criticisms at the service. One concerns the hours, the other the availability of reserve books just before exams and papers. McNiff feels that both are unjustified. Although Princeton's new Firestone library for undergraduates remains open until midnight on weekdays, McNiff thinks that Lamont's hours are long enough. He also points out that most House libraries are open for studying until after 10 p.m. If students find it impossible to work in their rooms. As for reserve books, an average of one copy for every ten students is kept on hand for long-term reading assignments, and the ratio diminishes with the amount of time allowed for the completion of the assignment. Obviously, says McNiff, the library cannot stock a book for each student in a course. "If this were the case, the University might just as well start giving away free texts."

The Monster

It is Lamont the structural entity that weighs on many. Too much like a huge machine, with the soft breathing of its air conditioning, the almost imperceptible but constant humming of its lights, its often subterranean atmosphere, the building seems to some students a monstrous trap or an educational processor--the Frankenstein's monster of a mechanistic age. In spite of all the glass, these dissenters feel sealed into the building. Even a member of the staff said it: "If only we could open a window!"

But this is a matter of taste, and thousands of the less imaginative or the better adjusted shun the airy domes of Widener for the efficiency, convenience, and comfort of America's model college library. As long as the right books are there, and as long as the undergraduate can get them and read them, Lamont is a success--despite the stale air.