I didn’t really know what to expect before coming to the Morgan Library. I had heard of Pierpont Morgan before. I knew J.P. Morgan was a famous financier in the late 19th century, but I must admit, I underestimated him. I could never have imagined what I was about to see when I walked into his old library.
The rotunda was beautiful, but the library itself was something else. I like libraries, yes, but this wasn’t a regular library. This was a Harry Potter library. A Narnia library. The kind of library you only read about in stories. Honestly, when I first walked in, I thought it was fake. I felt like I had stepped into another world. The shelves looked too perfect, the atmosphere too magical. Part of me thought the books might just be props with empty pages inside. But they were real and they
belonged to a real person.
The books were endless: tiny books, massive books, skinny books, fat books. Old editions and first
editions.
I started imagining how many stories lived in that room. What if someone actually tried to read them all? Did Morgan himself ever do it?
I couldn’t help wondering if anyone still takes them out, if all the stories kept in the bookcases will keep living.
The room itself was overwhelming in the best way. The smell from the walnut bookcases gave it warmth. A massive Persian rug stretched across the floor with colors perfectly matching the spines of the books.
And the ceiling. Wow. I felt like I could stare at it forever. Twelve zodiac signs were painted above, each with its specific place in the room. I heard a man talking about it, mentioning how Morgan, apparently, had a thing for astrology. He was even part of a private dining club called the Zodiac Club.
I noticed countless books in French. Balzac, for example. Even a whole section of children’s on the left side of the fireplace. The shelves were filled with adventure tales like Robinson Crusoe. There was SO MUCH Crusoe. I loved how used they looked. All the other books in the library were so prim and proper, but these had worn corners and faded covers. They felt like they had been carried along on adventures of their own. Maybe read on a beach with each page getting sprayed with saltwater, or passed to a friend who loved them just as much. You can tell when a book has been loved, and these have gotten a lot of love.
Everywhere I turned, there were details. There were brass railings and glass skylights that made the room feel like an Italian villa.
The tapestry above the fireplace caught my eye. It stood out because its colors were very muted compared to the rest of the room. This made me want to look closer. It felt almost hidden, even though it was dominating the room. At first, it looked calm with its light colors, but the closer I looked, the more gruesome it became. I saw severed heads and horror woven into the fabric.
There was a Latin inscription in the top middle of the tapestry saying: “Semper eget sitiens mediis ceu Tantalus undis, inter anhelatas semper avarus opes.” Which translates to,“He is always thirsty for the means, like Tantalus, for the waves, always greedy for wealth amidst the longed-for.”
And then, just as I was headed out, I noticed the Gutenberg bible. It was right by the entrance, but I, who was so enticed by everything else, had not even seen the book. I learned that the library had three of the surviving forty-eight copies of the Gutenberg Bible. Just sitting there, in the same place as all the other books. I had been more interested in the Robinson Crusoe books. In here, it was just another book.
Create Your Own Website With Webador