by Robert Lopresti
I
seldom write here about being a librarian because I hate to brag, but I
recently attended a lecture that seems relevant to us as readers and
writers. Lori Robare of the University of Oregon spoke on "RDA for
Non-Catalogers."
RDA is Resource Description and
Analysis, a new set of rules for cataloging library material. (And here
I should hasten to say I was at that meeting because I am not a
cataloger, so I may be about to get a lot wrong. Don't blame Lori!)
Until RDA arrived in 2010 library books were cataloged under
Anglo-American Catalog Rules (AACR2), which was (were?) created in the
1970s.
Now, think about what libraries were like back
then. The purpose of AACR2 was to cram as much relevant information
about a book as possible onto a small card which would go into a cabinet
and probably never be seen by anyone outside that library.
How
many of the words in that last sentence are still true today?
"Relevant information" is probably about it. You don't have to cram
information into a card because today's catalogs consist of computer
records which can be as long as necessary. So RDA says forget about
using abbreviations. (And while we're at it, throw out Latin. Few
users understood it back in the seventies.)
And why assume you are cataloging a book? Maybe you are trying to catalog a DVD, a software program, a website, or realia, which in my library could be a jigsaw puzzle, a figurine, or lord knows what else.
Of
course, the fact that the catalog is on a computer means that readers
-- and librarians -- all over the world can see it, as opposed to that
hermetically sealed wooden case that existed in each individual library
back in the seventies, so consistency suddenly becomes much more
important.
It was in response to changes like this that
catalogers decided not to keep revising AACR2, but to try a whole
different approach: RDA, which uses a system called FRBR--
Okay, don't sweat it. I'll make this easy. Let's say you want to find a book: Stieg Larsson's The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. In FRBR that would be called the work.
So I hand you a copy of the work. It is titled Män som hatar kvinnor,
Men Who Hate Women. Oh, you didn't want it in the original Swedish? You would prefer English? No problem! But which translation do you prefer: the English English or the American English? In FRBR each of these versions is called an expression. For another example of expressions, think of different recordings of the same song.
You've
decided on the popular American translation. Great! Hardcover or
paperback? Maybe large-print? By now you know FRBR has a name for
this: it's the manifestation.
Good news! The library has two copies of the version you want. And in FRBR each of these is an item.
And somehow the cataloger has to indicate in the catalog record the work, expression, manifestation and item under discussion.
Easy peasy, no? What about the movie version of Larsson's book? Is that an expression or a different work? How about an illustrated edition? A graphic novel version?
And
this brings me to the main reason I am inflicting all this on you.
Lori showed us a diagram made by Barbara Tillett who was, at that time,
at the Library of Congress. She attempted to capture on one page
everything that can happen to one little piece of writing. See if it
doesn't blow your mind.
I
suppose the only works that have most, much less all of the above, are a
small number of literary classics. Something we can aspire to,
anyway.
Showing posts with label Libraries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Libraries. Show all posts
03 July 2013
Nine lives of the catalog
26 November 2012
Write Your Name Right Here
by Fran Rizer
Shannon as Callie, Fran as Fran, Barbie as Jane |
Since that first one in 2007, I've enjoyed signings in lots of places. They were all fun and they all gave me the opportunity to visit with some wonderful people. Today I want to share just a few of those events.
The Callielac |
My first book was written after I retired from teaching. At a signing at The Happy Bookseller (an indie that has closed and is dearly missed) a group of my former colleagues attended as a group. That was a special treat for me.
So booksignings were always fun experiences, but as the cliche goes, you ain't seen nothing yet! The McCormick, SC, Friends of the Library invited me to speak and sign books with a reception following the talk. Imagine my surprise when I stepped into the auditorium and saw a closed casket, complete with casket spray, in front of the podium! My protagonist, Callie Parrish, works as a cosmetician for Middleton's Mortuary. Friends of the Library were stationed around the room role-playing characters from the Callie Parrish mysteries.
The lady who portrayed Jane was sitting at a desk with a telephone. Of course she wore a red wig and dark glasses. A Victoria's Secret bag by her side spilled out all kinds of lingerie, especially Dixon's favorite color--sheer. Jane is Callie's BFF. She's visually impaired, or as Callie says, "to call a spade a flippin' shovel, she's totally blind." Leigh, you'll be glad to know that Jane gives up her wicked ways in the fifth book due out in spring, 2013. No, she hasn't quit her job as a telephone "fantasy actress," but she does stop shoplifting at Victoria's Secret and promise the sheriff she's quit for good.
My number one fan who is always at my signings is my grandson, Aeden. |
When I used to book rock 'n roll bands, we joked about someday being so famous that fans asked them to sign various body parts. I've been told, "Write your name right here," by folks who handed me a cocktail napkin, but not on any body parts (yet!)
What about you? Got any stories to share about book signings or launch parties? Or any ideas for my next one?
Until we meet again...take care of you!
Labels:
books,
bookstores,
cosies,
cozies,
Fran Rizer,
Libraries,
signings
Location:
Columbia, SC, USA
04 March 2012
Book 'em
by Leigh Lundin
In recent weeks, we've seen interesting news on the literary front. We'll headline a couple of them today.
Librotraficante
You may have heard of the Librotraficante movement and its caravan this month from Texas and New Mexico into that literary desert of Arizona where schoolbook banning is alive and well. Authors and educators are fighting back– smuggling banned books back into the state that just celebrated its centennial.
Like other bannings, Arizona HB 2281 ARS §15-112 touts such lofty goals of racial harmony and patriotism, but also like other bannings, the result is something else. Reportedly, officials seized books while studies were in session and subsequently shut down classes.
The numbers of 'offensive' books comprise an extensive list, mostly related to Indian and Hispanic themes and authors. I won't suggest this is communist thinking (although Arizona's flag features a suspiciously large red star. Hmm…)
The Streisand Effect
My take is nothing like banning books gets people to read them. A couple of thousand miles away in New York City, Mayor Bloomberg twice destroyed the so-called People's Library, an outgrowth of Occupy Wall Street. I'm sure officials saw only a rag-tag collection of books, but burning books of any kind raises hackles. Thus, out of these two attempts to take books out of people's hands, a new movement has arisen… 'read-easies'.
Like speakeasies of the Prohibition era, people can gather to partake of the illicit and even the illegal. The idea of these decentralized underground libraries is for each to stock copies of banned works. Thus if a book is banned in Boston (or tossed in Tucson), it should be available elsewhere.
Criminal (and other) Composites
In possibly the first intersection of People Magazine and the literary world, the celebrity mag published pictures of Daphne du Maurier's Mrs. Danvers, Dashiell Hammett's Sam Spade, F. Scott Fitzgerald's Daisy Buchanan, Thomas Hardy's Tess, Patricia Highsmith's talented Tom Ripley, and Vladimir Nabokov's Humbert Humbert.
A new web site called The Composites combines descriptions of literary protagonists and law enforcement composite sketch software to create visuals of our favorite characters. Following are some of the most popular results:
I admire Sue Grafton's detailed descriptions, but I tend toward minimalism. In Swamped, I described the professor's hands, damaged foot, and what little could be seen of his eyes, but I spend more time writing about what's on the inside of a character. What characters think is important to me, especially if it doesn't mesh with their actions. Although I'm more Continental Op than Kinsey Millhone, descriptive difference may be attributable to the length of the story form. In a novel with more room to play, I might become more effusive vis-à-vis physicality, but there can be drawbacks.
I'm not the first to mention that whilst Stephenie Meyer vividly portrayed teenish hunk Edward Cullen in her Twilight Series, she sketched virtually no physical description of Isabella Swan. Apparently that lack of detail allows readers to visualize themselves as their heroine, Bella.
Speaking of which… it's the witching hour of midnight and I'm outta here.
Librotraficante
You may have heard of the Librotraficante movement and its caravan this month from Texas and New Mexico into that literary desert of Arizona where schoolbook banning is alive and well. Authors and educators are fighting back– smuggling banned books back into the state that just celebrated its centennial.
Like other bannings, Arizona HB 2281 ARS §15-112 touts such lofty goals of racial harmony and patriotism, but also like other bannings, the result is something else. Reportedly, officials seized books while studies were in session and subsequently shut down classes.
The numbers of 'offensive' books comprise an extensive list, mostly related to Indian and Hispanic themes and authors. I won't suggest this is communist thinking (although Arizona's flag features a suspiciously large red star. Hmm…)
The Streisand Effect
My take is nothing like banning books gets people to read them. A couple of thousand miles away in New York City, Mayor Bloomberg twice destroyed the so-called People's Library, an outgrowth of Occupy Wall Street. I'm sure officials saw only a rag-tag collection of books, but burning books of any kind raises hackles. Thus, out of these two attempts to take books out of people's hands, a new movement has arisen… 'read-easies'.
Like speakeasies of the Prohibition era, people can gather to partake of the illicit and even the illegal. The idea of these decentralized underground libraries is for each to stock copies of banned works. Thus if a book is banned in Boston (or tossed in Tucson), it should be available elsewhere.
Criminal (and other) Composites
In possibly the first intersection of People Magazine and the literary world, the celebrity mag published pictures of Daphne du Maurier's Mrs. Danvers, Dashiell Hammett's Sam Spade, F. Scott Fitzgerald's Daisy Buchanan, Thomas Hardy's Tess, Patricia Highsmith's talented Tom Ripley, and Vladimir Nabokov's Humbert Humbert.
A new web site called The Composites combines descriptions of literary protagonists and law enforcement composite sketch software to create visuals of our favorite characters. Following are some of the most popular results:
Tom Ripley The Talented Mr. Ripley Patricia Highsmith |
Mrs. Danvers Rebecca Daphne du Maurier |
Sam Spade The Maltese Falcon Dashiell Hammett |
Daisy Buchanan The Great Gatsby F. Scott Fitzgerald |
The Finn Burning Chrome, Neuromancer William Gibson |
Tess Tess of the d’Urbervilles Thomas Hardy |
Emma Bovary Madame Bovary Gustave Flaubert |
Pinkie Brown Brighton Rock Graham Greene |
Edward Rochester Jane Eyre Charlotte Bront |
Humbert Humbert Lolita Vladimir Nabokov |
Vaughn Crash J.G. Ballard |
The Misfit A Good Man Is Hard To Find Flannery O’Connor |
Richard Tull The Information Martin Amis |
Ignatius J. Reilly A Confederacy of Dunces John Kennedy Toole |
Kevin We Need to Talk About Kevin Lionel Shriver |
Judge Holden Blood Meridian Cormac McCarthy |
Gary Zone One Colson Whitehead |
Keith Talent London Fields Martin Amis |
I admire Sue Grafton's detailed descriptions, but I tend toward minimalism. In Swamped, I described the professor's hands, damaged foot, and what little could be seen of his eyes, but I spend more time writing about what's on the inside of a character. What characters think is important to me, especially if it doesn't mesh with their actions. Although I'm more Continental Op than Kinsey Millhone, descriptive difference may be attributable to the length of the story form. In a novel with more room to play, I might become more effusive vis-à-vis physicality, but there can be drawbacks.
I'm not the first to mention that whilst Stephenie Meyer vividly portrayed teenish hunk Edward Cullen in her Twilight Series, she sketched virtually no physical description of Isabella Swan. Apparently that lack of detail allows readers to visualize themselves as their heroine, Bella.
Speaking of which… it's the witching hour of midnight and I'm outta here.
Labels:
books,
Leigh Lundin,
Libraries
Location:
Orlando, FL, USA
29 January 2012
Guilty of Abandonment and Worried
“Libraries are the homes
of critical thought, of long-term cultural preservation, and of democratic
access to knowledge. This can’t end with the Internet.” Nathan Torkington ‘Where It All Went Wrong’.
Buying books and doing
research online has made me feel guilty for having, for the last four or five
years, neglected, no abandoned, my local library. I worry that libraries, like dinosaurs,
might become extinct, and eBooks will replace pBooks.
In the article
from l which I took the above quotation, Nathan Torkington in his address to
the National
and State Librarians of Australasia in Auckland argues that libraries must catch up with the digital
age, especially for researchers. He notes that libraries no longer have a
monopoly on research and that the younger generations will increasingly do
their research online.
In November, I
read another article online (forgot to copy the URL or the name of the author)
about how libraries get rid of old books through sales or destruction to make
room for newer books. I thought that libraries sold old books or gave them to
charity but never considered the fact that they destroy them. I am what the
author calls an absolutist, and I hate the very idea of destroying books, even
those by obscure authors on esoteric subjects.
The two articles
made me think about the Lawson McGhee Library here in Knoxville. I got my first
library card at the Cansler Branch for Colored when I was 9 or 10. The summer
when I was 12, I dreamed of becoming a major league baseball player, and
checked out as many books as I was allowed on baseball, one of which introduced
me to Wee Willie Keeler. He taught me, a small guy like him, how to “hit’em
where they ain’t.” I learned that libraries where I could get book to learn how
to do just about anything, and could also study African American history.
Whenever I moved
to a new city, one of the first thing I would do was get a library card. The
first big library I visited was the Chicago Public Library. Walking among the
stacks was what I expect heaven to be like if I make it through the Pearly
Gate. I next visited the library in Chicago that houses books by and about
African Americans to do research for an undergraduate project in American Literature.
It was truly a delightful surprise: a building full of books about Black
people.
Last year, the
Lawson McGhee Library System celebrated its 125th anniversary. I
last visited the main library downtown in 2006 or 2007, and the branch library
in my community of Burlington in 2008. I feel guilty that I stopped attending
the yearly book sale at which time I bought as many books as I could carry in a
plastic bag for three dollars. It was my way of contributing to the library
fund.
Lawson McGhee has
embraced the digital age. I knew that it lent audio books and DVDs, but I was
surprised to learn that it lends eBooks, and that the main library and several
branches have wireless Internet access for customers, and also provide computers
and Microsoft Office for public use. My New Year pledge to the library will be
my physical attendance again at the book sales and occasional borrowing of books,
including eBooks. I’ll have to be careful about borrowing eBooks, however, because
I might continue the bad habit of not
visiting the library in person.
The upside to borrowing eBooks is you don’t have to
worry about them being overdue and find yourself in the situation as a five
year old girl did in Massachusetts.
On January 4, 2012 the Guardian published a story about a five- year-old girl In a small Massachusetts town who
had two overdue library books. The police “…swooped on the home of” the little
girl. Seeing the police, she stared crying and asked her mother if the
policeman was going to arrest her. If she had checked out eBooks, maybe no cops
would have “swooped” on her home.
I worry but refuse
to believe that eBooks will replace pBooks, and the Internet will replace
libraries. Of course, some politician might decide one day that Internet libraries
cost less than real libraries in real buildings.
Labels:
eBooks,
Libraries,
Louis Willis
Location:
Knoxville, TN, USA
16 November 2011
Shhhh!
First of all, full disclosure. The author, Jo Dereske, is a friend of mine and a fellow librarian. (In fact, this book contains a brief mention of "Rob, the mystery writer." He sounds like a fascinating character and I wish we had heard more about him.)
The heroine of these books is Wilhelmina Zukas, a librarian who works at the public library in Bellehaven, Washington. And here we get into an endless series of inside jokes; Jo and I both live in Bellingham, Washington, which Bellehaven resembles to a remarkable degree. (She has pointed out the many benefits of fictionalizing her setting; for example, eliminating a mall she doesn't like.)
So what is Helma Zukas like? Smart, introverted, private, small, neat...the word repressed comes to mind. Clearly Dereske was playing with the stereotype of the librarian. (Most people in the field love Miss Zukas.)
You see, Helma is far too complex and interesting to see as a mere stereotype. Quiet and introverted, yes. But meek? Never. In almost every book she stuns quarrelers into silence with her “silver dime voice.” In one novel she destroys library records so that the police can’t violate the privacy of a book borrower. (And if that seems a far-fetched series of events consider this which happened in the same county that contains Bellingham.)
So Helma is a force to be reckoned with. Now, consider her best friend since fifth grade, Ruth Winthrop. Ruth is an artist. She is tall (and wears heels to emphasize it). She is also loud, brassy, dresses in wild colors and is as easy with men as Helma is not. Although these two opposites would gladly take a bullet for each other, they can't stand to be iin the same room for more than an hour. Dereske has received many emails from women asking "How do you know about me and my best friend?"
The author’s ability to connect to her audience is relevant to my point and we will get back to it, but here is an example: I once heard Dereske read a portion in which Miss Zukas filing some cards in alphabetical order and Dereske got quite rapturous about the meditation-like peace that comes with alphabetizing. I don’t know how many of the audience were librarians but I heard any number of guilty giggles from people who had experienced that same pleasure.
Helma is supported (or more usually, hindered) by a large collection of associates, like the young children’s librarian Glory Shandy, who is always ready with constructive criticism about Helma’s appearance. (When someone gives Helma an unwanted free visit to a beauty consultant Glory enthuses "He's probably very good at disguising mature skin.")
But the two most important supporting characters are what you might call a couple of soulmates of Miss Z. Police Chief Wayne Gallant came to town just after a nasty divorce, which means Helma has a crush on the only person around as nervous about relationships as herself. And Helma reluctantly takes in (but never talks to or touches) a stray animal who becomes known as Boy Cat Zukas, because that’s what the vet calls him. Boy Cat is as standoffish as his owner and they seem made for each other.
The first eleven books were published by Avon, which then chose not to renew the contract. Dereske has no complaints; she understands that the economy forced the decision, and she was willing to call the series over.
But remember what I said about Jo's relationship with her readers? They were insistent that the saga needed an ending. After holding discussions with some mainstream publishers, she decided to self-publish. And that brings us to Farewell, Miss Zukas, which winds up most of the strings of the story and brings our heroine to a happy ending.
And speaking of happy endings, you can see this story as depressing (good authors are losing publishers left and right) or positive (authors are taking control of their destiny). But in the spirit of natural perversity I am going to end with a favorite passage from the very beginning of Miss Zukas And The Island Murders
.
On [Miss Zukas'] desk blotter lay a week-old newspaper article listing ten books a local group, calling themselves Save Your Kids, demanded be withdrawn from the library collection. Two of the books, including Madonna's SEX, weren't even owned by the library, although twenty-three patrons had requested them since the article appeared....
Eve pointed to the Save Your Kids article on Helma's desk and stuck out her lower lip. "Why ban Little Red Riding Hood? What did SHE ever do?"
"I believe it was the wolf who did it," Helma said. "But don't worry, she's safe. Fortunately, the Constitution's still in effect."
If you like funny mysteries with quirky characters, you can't do much better than to take a trip to Bellehaven.
Labels:
Jo Dereske,
librarians,
Libraries,
Lopresti,
publishing
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