Let’s hear it for Twickenham! I had a fantastic evening there this week.  I went to give my presentation about A Clash of Innocents to whoever would show up.  I had no expectations at all.  I was thrilled that they even let me come along and strut my stuff in the first place. I’ve given this talk lots of times by now, but this was the first time I had ever been invited to speak at a library so I was both excited and apprehensive.  But there really was no need for apprehension.  It was wonderful.

First of all, the building is spectacular.  Wooden interior, old-fashioned cut glass in the door frames, large carpeted central staircase.  Close your eyes and imagine what an old private or university library would look like, then just exchange the adjective for public.  Tony, the Librarian who had organized the event, met me with huge thanks and premature apologies for a possible low attendance.  But the room was all arranged and ready with chairs, soft drinks on a long side table, a small corner table for me and my books,  an overhead projector for my computer and a large screen.  I set everything up.  Even the computer worked perfectly — something which doesn’t always happen, believe me.

And then the audience came — about 20 on a Wednesday evening. For me, that’s a terrific attendance.  Tony had publicized the talk in the local press and sent emails to all the local book clubs (N.B. he KNEW about the local writing groups), and they came…people interested in Cambodia, people interested in writing, people just interested. I talked, I showed my presentation, and then afterwards there were so many questions and such a lively discussion we closed the place down. PLUS, I sold LOTS of books! I said it before and I’ll say it again. I love Twickenham.

But this is important, I think, not just because one small writer had a good night.   Now, at this time when the very existence of such libraries in Britain is threatened by the proposed cuts, my event highlights the crucial role that libraries can, and often do, play in their communities, and especially urban ones.  Libraries are more than just places to take out books you don’t feel like buying.  And they are more than places where wanderers can get out of the rain.  Libraries are places where people can go to think.  They are the places, much more – alas – than schools, where children can learn that books are fun, that learning can be comfortable and cosy and not only stressful and judgmental. Libraries are places where people can meet others in their community with similar passions.  They are a right, not just a privilege — a right in any society which aims to be civilized, cohesive and open, aware of its past while looking towards its future.  When I was in school, we had entire units on the library system, how it works, who founded it.  I was taught that our libraries were just that — ours.  We owned them, and so we used them and took great pride in them.  It actually frightens me to think what we might turn into without them.