The Depiction of American Public Libraries in Film - Introduction, Methodology, Literature Review, Libraries as Representations of Research

1. Introduction

The twentieth century has seen the rise of two great cultural institutions, the cinema and the public library. Each was in its infancy in the year 1900, but by 2000 both are so ingrained in the culture of the West that it is hard to imagine society without them. This dissertation concerns the depiction of public libraries in American feature films.

From the film-maker’s point of view, the interesting representation of libraries causes a number of problems. If ‘writing about music is like dancing about architecture’ , then how does one make a film about reading, not the most visually compelling of activities? A particular cinematic grammar has developed around the depiction of libraries that attempts to resolve this dilemma, a grammar that is revealing of the assumptions made about library activity as well as the dictates of directorial convention.

However, of greater importance in this study is the perspective of the information professional. Stereotypes have dogged the profession and the service throughout the century. When discussing stereotypes, Wilson states that:

Stereotypes are learned collective perceptions. They are learned from novels, short stories, plays, movies, TV, radio and newspapers...Once learned they become a social reality or social fact. They are real although they are not palpable. They become "pictures in our heads".

The public perception of the library service is of critical importance in a number of ways, some obvious and others less so. Individuals are far more likely to make use of their local library if they consider it likely to be a friendly, useful or attractive environment. It is the assertion of this study that the public image of libraries is likely to be influenced by their depiction in feature films, particularly amongst those sections of the population that do not use the public library on a regular basis. It is imperative for the future of the public library network that potential users are encouraged to see the library as a useful or enjoyable resource if new activity is to be generated.

The status of libraries in the eye of decision-makers may affect the funding of public libraries from government agencies and other library and information service (LIS)-related policy decisions. Although federal aid has generally increased throughout the twentieth century, it regularly comes under scrutiny from those seeking to cut state funding in the public arena . Public libraries also have a tendency to become embroiled in political controversies such as the current debate on internet filtering and the availability of pornography and erotica in their collections . The position of library advocates in such situations is strengthened if libraries are presupposed to possess certain characteristics such as trustworthiness, intelligence and honesty. Cinema can undoubtedly be a factor in producing such assumptions.

Furthermore, recruitment to the information professions is likely to be assisted if libraries are presented as interesting, inspirational places, and the librarians as attractive people respected by other characters. Brewerton asks 'How are we to recruit dynamic people if we have (a) dowdy image and how does this affect our dealings with the public?' As Martin has stated with regard to the recruitment difficulties in the past:

On their side, libraries still struggled with the uncertain image of the librarian…This was significant because new recruits in the 1960s would become the leaders and administrators of the 1980s and 1990s.

Many commentators have assumed that the image of libraries and librarianship in our culture is largely a negative one. In his obituary of Frank Capra, Gilbert Adair refers to the oft-mentioned library scene in It's A Wonderful Life (see Chapter 3):

The library is, in Hollywood's symbology, an unmistakable mark of failure, of solitude, and, where a woman is concerned, of prim, mousy, bespectacled, hair in a bun plainness - a fact that Capra...was confident his audiences would understand without elucidation.

It is clear that Capra was, in this famous scene, both using and exacerbating one stereotype of the library, but it is possible that multiple stereotypes can co-exist in the same culture. This study will contend that the portrayal of public libraries in American film is far more complex than Adair suggests, and that the overall impression is not that of 'the mark of failure' at all.


2. Methodology

This study is based on the careful viewing of over 45 films, all relevant works that were available for viewing, as listed in the Bibliography (Chapter 10). A methodology broadly definable as content analysis was utilised. Repeated motifs and themes from the films viewed were noted, considered, and placed into broad categories. These representations were then analysed for ideological meanings and relevance to the realities of public library services in the United States.

A broad interdisciplinary approach was adopted in order to prevent overly narrow readings of textual meanings. The themes extracted from the content analysis are varied, including generic approaches (Chapter 8), varieties of library use (Chapter 4 and Chapter 6), sociological and ideological concepts (Chapter 5) and Freudian readings (Chapter 7.1). A chronological approach was rejected on the basis that it would be prohibitive and hinder the primary goal of extracting thematic similarities between the films.

In addition, relevant literature was collected and studied, as outlined in the Literature Review (Chapter 3). Observations and trends were taken from the literature and served to inform the arguments discussed and conclusions drawn.

This study deals exclusively in the depiction of public libraries in the United States from 1940 to the present day. The reasons that these parameters have been set are largely practical.

It was necessary to establish a specific type of library to be studied. Examples of other sorts of libraries in films are numerous, particularly law libraries, academic libraries, school libraries and prison libraries. Each of these is worthy of study in itself, but space limitations place them outside the scope of this dissertation. It was considered that the public library provided the broadest spectrum of experience and representation, and was thus the most appropriate field to examine.

It has proved to be extremely difficult gathering information on films made before World War Two. Virtually none of those that were sought are available on video or similar formats, and the British Film Institute library was unable to supply viewable copies on film. Therefore, the decision was taken that the arbitrary date of 1940 was the most appropriate point at which to begin the study. It is also noted that Walker & Lawson were similarly able to view only one film made prior to 1940 for their research: The Blot, released in 1921.

The concentration on American libraries in particular is simply due to the amount of source material available. There are many films from other nations that are of interest from an information science perspective, for example Wings of Desire (Germany), Prick Up Your Ears (United Kingdom) and The Blue Kite (China), but only the United States has produced enough material to make a study such as this feasible. It was considered it inappropriate to extend the parameters beyond one country, as the relevant issues to be considered vary from one place to the next. Similarly, a comparative approach between the United States and, for example, British libraries would extend the scope of the study considerably but has been judged impractical in the space available.

One exception to the stated parameters is for the special category of science fiction films. The reasoning behind this is discussed in the relevant section of this study (Chapter 8).


3. Literature Review

This is the first serious and extensive study of the portrayal of public libraries in film. Related research has proved to be scarce, unsurprisingly so given the minority interest of the subject matter. Whilst this leaves large scope for this study to create original material, it also means that the material gathered for the literature review is so small as to make any generalisations somewhat tentative.
All of the material that has been identified is produced by library professionals and is generally concerned with the depiction of librarians as individuals (most use the fortuitous phrase ‘reel librarians’) rather than the library as a user-system interface. The vast majority (34 out of 44 examples cited by Brewerton) of such writing is available only on the internet, rather than in journals, books or other professionally published sources. The literature can be divided into three broad categories: the indexed, the analytical and the satirical.

The most extensive of the indexed resources by some distance is Librarians in the Movies: An Annotated Filmography, moderated by Martin Raish. The introduction states that ‘This filmography is an ongoing attempt to expand our collective memory, to find a more comprehensive and defensible basis for our acceptance or rejection of the “typical movie librarian” – whatever we think he or she is’. Despite this declaration, and the directory’s title, the website features not just librarians but also all instances in which a library is shown or referred to. Raish divides these instances into four groups labelled A, B, C and D. In the A group, ‘someone says or does something that clearly identifies himself or herself (or some other character) as a librarian’. Group B features films in which ‘(a) library is used for research, for study, to meet someone, or for some other purpose’. The C group consists of those films in which a library is only mentioned in passing, and D is a miscellaneous group for films of which insufficient information is available to place the entries into another group. A total of over three hundred films are featured, most with a brief description of the nature of the depiction, but minimal filmographical information. Nevertheless, the site is well-maintained, reasonably accurate and fairly comprehensive thanks to the way in which Raish encourages others to add to his database whenever possible.

Other indexes include less wide-ranging more idiosyncratic selections such as Frederick Duda’s Cool Librarians, which emphasises librarians in television and detective fiction, and Steven J. Schmidt’s Top Ten Movies Featuring Libraries, Librarians and the Book Arts. These lists are far smaller than the Annotated Filmography, and consist only of the author’s ‘favourite’ examples, which are invariably the most extreme, and therefore memorable. Schmidt includes Mary Hatch Bailey (Donna Reed) in It's A Wonderful Life, Bunny Watson (Katharine Hepburn) in Desk Set and the librarian (John Rothman) in Sophie's Choice, which is described as 'an example of the worst reference interview of all time'. Each of these is also mentioned in the introduction of Raish, and all are repeatedly referred to throughout the literature.

Analytical resources include Stephen Walker & V. Lonnie Lawson's The Librarian Stereotype and the Movies, Alison Hall's Batgirl was a Librarian and Antony Brewerton's Wear lipstick, have a tattoo, belly-dance, then get naked: The making of a virtual librarian. In addition, The Image of the Librarian in Commercial Motion Pictures: An Annotated Filmography by Ann O'Brien & Martin Raish is a hybrid, comprising a much-reduced version of Raish's online Annotated Filmography with an analytical introduction by O'Brien entitled Our Image in the Movies: A Brief Guide.

Every analytical study begins from the assumption, stated explicitly or implicitly, that the image of librarians is a negative one. None cite any authoritative research to confirm this view, unless Walker & Lawson's use of a survey made for a television quiz show can be considered authoritative. The inference is drawn from a highly selective set of source texts, and It's A Wonderful Life is repeatedly and predictably invoked.

The exception to the ubiquitous Donna Reed references is Hall, in which the approach is somewhat scattershot, claiming to look at 'the image of the librarian as portrayed in....books, films, TV, cartoons, comic strips', but in fact citing only 11 references, all of which are novels. This provides the most extreme example of the tendency to claim without any supporting evidence that 'the unmistakable impression emerges of a very dull, earnest body, usually female, with glasses (probably those little half glasses), her hair in - yes, here it comes - a BUN, wearing sensible shoes, support hose, tweed skirt, droopy sweater...need I continue?' This very specific image is then contradicted in all but one of the texts cited, the exception being a single line in a spy novel.

O'Brien & Raish and Walker & Lawson demonstrate a more thematic approach, for example dealing with common portrayals in different genres. The interpretation of the stereotype becomes more sophisticated as the arguments develop, although this can seem apologetic or grudging, as in the comment that 'It has to be admitted that in the majority of cases, what we get is various aspects of the stereotype'. Walker & Lawson also provide the perceptive point that ‘the purest librarian stereotypes are those that have a small amount of screen time’.

Walker & Lawson provides an interesting analysis of gender issues, concluding that 'Movies are more likely to stereotype women librarians, but the roles for women are more numerous and more important than for men...yet the judgements about women librarians are nastier'. This is in contrast to the sweeping generalisations of Hall, and demonstrates a much more considered approach to the subject.

Brewerton effectively provides a literature review of web-based material whilst also commenting on the image of the profession in general. It states that 'The vast majority of the image resources on the Web are concerned with the portrayal of librarians in the theatre and film', but provides only 8 examples from a total of 45 citations.

Brewerton cites 15 examples of what he terms 'image-busting' websites designed to challenge or lampoon the stereotypical image of the librarian in the eyes of the public, or, more precisely, what professionals perceive to be their image. Most of these satirical sites are unrelentingly light-hearted in tone and include such unlikely items as The Bellydancing Librarian, The Lipstick Librarian, The Intolerant Librarian, The Adventures of the Librarian, The Ska Librarian, The Laughing Librarian and The Barbarian Librarian. There are also sites dedicated to sex and librarianship such as The Image of Librarians in Pornography and The Naked Librarian. Brewerton attributes this to the fact that 'The tense sexual atmosphere of the quiet library and the repressed sexuality of library workers are well established elements of the image'. There is some truth in this, but it would perhaps be more noteworthy in the broader context of internet content if there were no references to sex and sexuality in librarianship.

There is also a strand of more serious satirical sites available including The Modified Librarian, which deals with library staff with tattoos and body piercing, Street Librarian and The Anarchist Librarian Web. These sites use humour to some degree but also promote an overt political agenda. For example, the Anarchist Librarian Web is a serious radical magazine site that runs under the banner 'The Revolution Will Be Cataloged' (sic).

The nomenclature used for many sites regarding the image of library workers is notably uniform, often using the form The (Something) Librarian. There is also a notably large number of links between such sites, suggesting that a community of internet 'image-busters' has developed as a reaction to public perceptions. However, these factors also suggest a degree of insularity in this area. A possible area of future research would be to determine the amount that these sites are read by other professionals compared with non-librarians. The number of jokes that rely on a certain knowledge of librarianship, for example the brilliant spoof bibliography in The Lipstick Librarian, suggest that the intended audience is that of fellow professionals. It follows that these sites fulfil a satirical role rather than a serious attempt to alter public attitudes.

The concentration on each of these sites is very much upon the image of the profession, as opposed to the overall impression of the service from the user's perspective. I would suggest that this is due to the informal nature of these studies, and the make-up of the intended audience, that is to say other library professionals. However, this can lead to misrepresentation, as in Raish's description of the key library scene in Stanley and Iris:

Jane Fonda and Robert De Niro are blue collar workers who lean on each other for support. Fonda, a recent widow, helps De Niro learn to read. Near the end of the movie he parades through the public library picking up every book he sees and proudly reading aloud passages from each. The librarian (played by Dortha Duckworth) is as stereotypical as they come -- old, spinsterish, with grey hair pulled tightly back. She scolds him with 'Shhh, this is a library,' to which he responds 'Yes! This is my library!'

Not only is this description factually inaccurate (her hair is neither grey nor tied back and the dialogue is mistranscribed), it also suggests that the scene is a negative portrayal of the library experience. On the contrary, in the context of the narrative as a whole the trip to the visit is a liberating moment, symbolising the empowerment of the formerly illiterate (and hence marginalised) De Niro character, Stanley Cox. An as yet unpublished book by Steven J. Schmidt, prospectively titled 'Librarians on Film', appears likely to continue the emphasis on the profession over the service.

The informal nature of much of the literature results in analysis that lacks necessary rigour. Little or no differentiation is made between public libraries and other forms of LIS, a large proportion of factual content is inaccurate, and opinion often skews the interpretation of facts to a problematic degree. Such shortcomings are perhaps inevitable in personal ventures, further emphasising the need for academic studies such as this.

Despite the constant emphasis in the literature on the librarian as an individual, no attempt has yet been made to analyse the socio-political aspects of their depiction of the profession beyond individual instances. There is no attempt to apply the politics of gender, race or sexuality to the films as a whole. It is surely noteworthy that in the films covered by this study there is only one (Somewhere in Time) that features an African-American library worker, but the serious imbalance of ethnic groups in these depictions has gone entirely unremarked.

4. Libraries as Representations of Research

Possibly the most familiar role played by American public libraries in film is that of the site of important research that furthers the narrative. Of the films listed in the bibliography, over seventy per cent fulfil this plot function to a greater or lesser extent. A typical, straightforward example of this is Somewhere in Time, in which Richard Collier (Christopher Reeve) goes to the local town library in order to investigate the life of a turn of the century actress. He persuades the librarian to get him some journals from the closed collection, the content of which is then disclosed to the viewer by a combination of voice-over and close-ups of the magazines themselves, particularly photographic content.

This scene epitomises its type as it includes a number of characteristics that are replicated in the majority of cases. The first of these is brevity. This makes sense for the film-maker in story-telling terms for which a lengthy scene would disrupt the overall pacing of the narrative. As a result, the information-seeking process is massively simplified, as in Somewhere in Time in which the character merely requests ‘some theatre magazines’, or omitted completely, with only the resulting data being shown. This tendency is at its most extreme in the thriller genre in films such as The Hand That Rocks The Cradle, Chinatown and The Big Sleep, wherein pacing is of critical importance and directors are least likely to dwell on the essentially undramatic business of research.

The concentration on journal sources is also typical. A variety of forms are used, most often newspapers (Dead Heat, Shadow of a Doubt, A Simple Plan), but also magazines (Field of Dreams) and journals transcribed onto microfilm (Public Access). This has the advantage of displaying material in the form of photographs or concise headlines, as well as suggesting that the information retrieved is of relevance to the ‘real world’ as opposed to the dry ‘facts’ found in reference books, that is to say stories rather than data. It can also be assumed that the library is the only location that such material can be acquired, whereas many well-educated and affluent characters may be assumed to possess a reasonable collection of books at home.

The example of The Time Machine demonstrates the advantages of using a library to convey plot information. In a future world, H.G.Wells (Rod Taylor) discovers the fate of humankind through a library in the form of a set of rings that contain audio information. Hence the audience is able to hear the archive material at the same time as the character. This scene has no counterpart in the source novella, in which the Time Traveller deduces mankind’s story through observation and deduction, a process difficult to convey on-screen.

It is often to the film-maker's advantage if an element of difficulty or tension can be introduced to the library sequence, thus maintaining viewer interest in the unfolding story. A common way of doing this is to present the library worker as either reluctant to assist the central character (as in Somewhere in Time and Shadow of a Doubt) or downright obstructive (as in Chinatown). This is unfortunate for the image of the profession, but does not necessarily mean that the library service as a whole is presented in a negative way. In fact there are only two instances in the films being considered here (Sophie’s Choice and All The President’s Men) of a visit to the library failing to elicit the material sought by characters. There is also the instance of Vertigo, in which ‘Scottie’ Ferguson (Jimmy Stewart) dismisses the service out of hand with the request to his friend to find some ‘history, not the kind you find in libraries, real history’.

The Watergate thriller All The President’s Men provides a fascinating case study of the library as a representation of the research process. In the book on which the screenplay is based the relevant action, an investigation into the interests of Howard Hunt, merits only this passage:

‘Bernstein and Woodward took a cab to the Library of Congress and found the office that handles White House requests for material in the library. Speaking to the reporters in a hallway, rather than his office, a librarian informed them politely that White House transactions were confidential. Eventually, the reporters found a more cooperative clerk and spent the afternoon in the reading room sorting through thousands of slips of paper – every request since July 1971, when Hunt was hired by the White House. None had Hunt’s name on it.’

The portrayal of these brief events in the film is instructive. Firstly, the sequence takes up several minutes of screen time, a far greater proportion of the narrative than is shown in the book. For the key shot of the journalists sifting through the slips, the camera is placed high above the action in the roof of the building, gradually zooming back to reveal more of the reading room. The slow pace of the zoom back, several fades in and out, and the stately, portentous music serve to indicate the passage of time. Unusually, the characters fail to retrieve the information that they are seeking so the plot is not furthered by the scene. The function of this sequence, therefore, is to encapsulate what was an extremely lengthy and complex research process into a brief, simple and readily understandable form. The scene becomes a synecdoche for the whole investigation.

Related to this is the way in which obstacles are places before Woodward (Robert Redford) and Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman) in the scene. The librarian that ‘informed them politely that White House transactions were confidential’ is played by a white, middle-aged man in a suit, exuding a sense of smug superiority. He is seated behind an imposing mahogany desk and a portrait of an old man looks down from the wall. The signifiers confer a sense that the librarian is a member of 'the establishment', and therefore unconsciously represents the forces that are trying to block the journalists' investigation. In contrast, the 'cooperative clerk' is a young black man, virtually the only black character in the entire film. The opposition once again transforms the library into a synecdoche of the film's broader concerns, comparing the stuffy obstructiveness of the establishment with the liberal openness of the youthful counterculture.

The sequence also enables the director, Alan J. Pakula, to simplify a hugely complex and lengthy investigation in a manner easily comprehended by the audience. The events, as described in the book, involved a massive amount of routine paperwork and telephone conversations that are clearly not conducive to compelling cinema. The visit to the Library of Congress allows for the portrayal of the routine and unproductive aspects of the research to be implied in a visually spectacular setting and in a way that the audience will recognise from their own experience.

It is this last point that is the key to the use of libraries as a representation of a longer research process. The public library is an institution of which virtually all of the audience will have some familiarity, so the experience of characters carrying out similar activity will carry resonance and require no explanation. The required facts or meanings are conveyed to the audience in a simple way, and the plot is allowed to continue.

The common occurrence of such scenes in films is recognition that public libraries provide a valuable service to the community. The overwhelming impression from these scenes is a positive one, likely to encourage the viewer to use the library when some information is sought.