Public Libraries

Public libraries seem to be going out of fashion. Whenever a local council wants to save some money it's the first thing they cut back on. I think it's a crime. Being able to store knowledge on mass, even after the author's death, is one of the things that makes human beings stand apart and the free access to this knowledge, regardless of wealth or social standing, has been one of the greatest achievements of our civilisation.

In Britain it dates back to The Public Libraries Act of the 19th Century but the idea of a lending library goes way back to the Islamic scholars of the Middle Ages. In fact, much of our knowledge of the ancient world came to us via these libraries - particularly through the Moorish academics in Spain. So keen were the ancient librarians to accumulate works that they would pay for original books in their weight of gold - one would want to make sure it was the large print edition if cashing in.

Unfortunately, this love and thirst for knowledge doesn't seem to be preserved with our modern library system. Some libraries seem to throw out anything that hasn't been lent for more than 6 months, leaving the shelves filled with popular fiction and mindless dross. At least that's what I thought. I kept finding interesting looking titles in the online catalogue for our local libraries but when I looked on the shelf I couldn't find them. Not wanting to appear completely inept, I just found something else to read but I kept finding many tantalising looking books marked GMB - On Shelf and eventually I did that very un-bloke thing and actually asked someone.

It appears that Grangemouth library, as well as having a fair old floor space, has a reserve section hidden down in the bowels of the building. To borrow one of these titles one has to ask a member of staff - so off I headed to Grangemouth. For those of you that don't know Grangemouth, it is the industrial area of Falkirk, lying on the Forth, with an oil refinery and various chemical plants flaring balls of flame into the night's sky, which gives it an appearance akin to the set of Bladerunner - just with more ginger people. I somehow imagined that they employed some sort of hideous hunchback creature called Igor to delve into the library reserve but it turns out to be rather a nice lady called Joan. She disappeared off and found the book I fancied reading - The Wanting Seed by Anthony Burgess - and returned a few minutes later. The book had last been borrowed in June 1991.

It is often said that authors die twice: Firstly, when they shuffle off this mortal coil; and secondly, when their books are out of print. I think there is actually a third death - or more of a slow fading. That is when the authors books are no longer read. The last lending stamp is probably a fair indication of this. Of Burgess's books, A Clockwork Orange and possibly Earthly Powers are still reasonably widely read. The Wanting Seed was written around the same time as A Clockwork Orange and is also a dystopian vision of a near future Britain. However, rather than a Britain overrun by gangs of feral youths, it is a Britain (and a world) which is overrun by people in a Malthusian apocalypse.

It sounds cheery enough but even after the first few pages I realised why I liked Burgess's books so much. He has to rate as one of the darkest, blackest humorists of all time. The first chapter opens with a grieving mother leaving her child's body for callously cheerful civil servants to extract phosphorous salts from. It sounds revolting - and it is - but it is written in such a wildly ironic tone to make it laugh-out-loud funny. I'm not sure how much over-population was a burning issue in the early sixties when this was written but at the time the world's population was around 3 billion - now it's nearer 7. Burgess doesn't make a claim for how many people are on his planet but it has come to the point where infertility is actively encouraged - both by Maoist style baby quotas and, in this case, by state sponsored homosexuality!

The other theme that runs through the book is the cyclical nature of history - there is a theory that governments will become progressively more authoritarian until the populace reaches breaking point and anarchy ensues. Eventually, a more liberal form of governance will take it's place. I'm not sure whether this holds true but the anarchy in The Wanting Seed consists of an outbreak of cannibalism and the more "liberal" government allows free fornication and procreation whilst arranging for conscription and war-for-war's-sake to deal with the excess number of people. It's actually this condemnation of war which is the most effective element of the book and leaves the most lasting impression. Overall, though, this is what Soylent Green would have been like if the BBC had made it.

I'm glad I've read this and I will have a good search through the Grangemouth library reserve for other forgotten gems. And at least I've extended Anthony Burgess's immortality a little longer into the 21st century.