A library of all libraries
Italian writer Umberto Eco poses for a photo at his home in Milan, Italy, March 6, 2014. (Reuters Photo)

Are we ready to bid libraries farewell? If you say yes, you're challenging Umberto Eco's viewpoint



Italian writer Umberto Eco once remarked that when we say "I," we mean "memory," and this memory is nothing but a means of a library. Today, one might wonder whether libraries stand as sanctuaries of memory; they might even question whether they are relevant, considering the digital age. Information indeed flows at the speed of time; our gusto has changed. Data is different. Intellectualness is different. Books are not books. Encyclopedias are not encyclopedias. Why should libraries be the same?

Many naysayers believe that libraries are already becoming obsolete and will soon be a thing of the past. They argue that memory and other traditional library functions will no longer be valued.

In their co-authored book, "This is Not the End of the Book," Eco and Jean-Claude Carriere claim this is not the end of libraries either. Eco points to the "fact" that "libraries have always been humanities’ way of preserving its collective wisdom." Carriere echoes Eco’s sentiment. Both believe collective wisdom is one of the cores of human principles, meaning that as long as humankind survives, so will libraries.

French writer and screenwriter Jean-Claude Carriere delivers his speech after being honored with the medal of Commander of the National Order of Merit during an honor ceremony at the Culture Ministry, Paris, France, Oct. 16, 2014. (AP Photo)

Libraries have played a crucial role in preserving and disseminating knowledge throughout history. They have been the guardians of human thought, housing the collective wisdom of civilizations. Without the presence of incunabula, for example, how could we speak precisely of European culture today? Without the pre-1500 manuscripts in Eco’s famous library, the science of semiotics would be lacking.

Incunabula are the "firstborns" of the printing press. These are books, pamphlets or broadsides printed in Europe's earliest printing days, generally before 1500. Distinct from handwritten manuscripts, incunabula represent the dawn of mechanical printing using movable type. The term itself reflects this beginning, coming from the Latin word for "swaddling clothes" or "cradle."

A view of a medieval manuscript at a library in Palermo, Sicily, Italy, in an undated photo in 2014. (Shutterstock Photo)

Eco had over 1,200 incunabula. The precious collection is now housed at the University of Bologna, where it is available for scholars and researchers to study and explore. Similarly, Carriere had a collection of just as many old pieces. There are many passionate collectors like them worldwide. Auctions are held in various prominent locations, and some items are sold for astronomical prices.

However, the story of libraries does not begin with incunabula, but rather in the cradle of civilization, Mesopotamia. Forget dusty shelves; here, libraries were clay tablet archives. Imagine scribes meticulously etching stories, laws and scientific observations onto these sturdy tablets, carefully storing them in temple rooms. The Library of Ashurbanipal (in modern Iraq’s Mosul area), built in the seventh century B.C., housed over 30,000 tablets, offering a glimpse into the intellectual world of the Assyrians.

Fast forward to ancient Egypt, where libraries transformed into grand halls adorned with papyrus scrolls. These were not just repositories; they were places of active scholarship. Priests copied and categorized scrolls, ensuring the survival of knowledge for future generations. The Great Library of Alexandria, founded in modern Egypt around the third century B.C., a marvel of the ancient world, tragically lost to fire, stood as a testament to the importance these early societies placed on preserving knowledge.

An exterior view of the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, which was built as a commemoration of the historical Great Library of Alexandria, once one of the largest libraries worldwide, Alexandria, Egypt, Dec. 31, 2016. (Shutterstock Photo)

Centuries rolled by, and libraries evolved alongside civilization. Greece boasted libraries attached to philosophical schools, where students could examine the works of Plato and Aristotle. In China, the Imperial Library blossomed under dynasties that valued education and record-keeping. Parchment replaced papyrus, allowing for more extensive collections.

The Middle Ages saw a shift, with monasteries becoming the guardians of knowledge. Monks copied religious texts by hand, preserving them in scriptoriums – the forerunners of modern libraries. The invention of the printing press in the 15th century marked a turning point. Knowledge became democratized, with books more readily available. Grand public libraries began to appear, such as the Bodleian Library at Oxford in England. The 17th and 18th centuries witnessed the birth of these public libraries, fueled by ideals of enlightenment and the spread of knowledge.

A view of the Radcliffe Camera, a building of the University of Oxford, which houses the Radcliffe Science Library, a part of the Bodleian Library, Oxfordshire, U.K., Aug. 22, 2023. (Shutterstock Photo)

Fast forward to today, and libraries have transformed yet again. Gone are the days of dusty tomes chained to shelves. Digital libraries offer a universe of information at our fingertips. E-books, audiobooks and online resources cater to every learning style. Libraries have become community hubs, hosting workshops, author talks and even providing digital literacy training.

The story of libraries is a testament to humanity's enduring quest for knowledge. From clay tablets to e-books, these institutions have served as the cornerstones of civilization, ensuring that the flame of learning never flickers and dies. So, what does the future hold?

If libraries are truly a "paradise," as Jorge Luis Borges praised, they will not disappear. If they are deemed useless, like an average tech geek might, they will vanish. In my opinion, Eco and Carriere's perspective on libraries resonates logically and realistically.

The human story is one of constant learning and evolution. This progress is fueled by a powerful force: collective wisdom, the shared knowledge and understanding accumulated across generations. Collective wisdom isn't just about following the crowd. It's the knowledge gleaned from the shared experiences and perspectives of a community. It's the wisdom enshrined in proverbs, the insights gleaned from across generations, and the solutions arrived at through collaborative problem-solving.

History is replete with examples. The scientific method relies on the collective verification and refinement of ideas. Social movements gain strength from the collective will of participants. Even seemingly mundane tasks, like raising children, benefit from the shared wisdom of parents and communities.

The other benefits of collective wisdom are undeniable. It fosters better decision-making, sparks creativity and strengthens communities. It is our greatest asset to challenge obstacles. And human beings, as pragmatic creatures by nature, will always benefit from these advantages. Libraries, as the cornerstone of this collectiveness, as highlighted by Eco and Carriere, in this context, are something that humanity cannot risk losing. In the documentary "Umberto Eco – A Library of the World," Eco quotes Dante Alighieri's description of God as "a library of all libraries." Considering all, it is safe to say that libraries and their stock of knowledge will continue to exist until the end of mankind.