A new Little Free Library just popped up in my neighborhood. I’ll admit to feeling a little jealous, because I’ve always thought that my house, which is on a corner lot, would be the perfect location for a Little Free Library.
This Little Free Library is hidden away on a woodsy side street that doesn’t get much traffic, but that is a favorite of local runners, dog walkers, and stroller pushers. One of the fanciest Little Free Libraries I’ve seen, it includes interior lighting and has a child-sized Adirondack chair placed next to it for little readers.
There are more than 50,000 Little Free Libraries in all fifty states and all over the world. Established in 2010 in Madison, Wisconsin, and inspired by Andrew Carnegie, who funded more than 2,500 public libraries around the turn of the twentieth century, Little Free Library “is a nonprofit organization that inspires a love of reading, builds community, and sparks creativity by fostering neighborhood book exchanges around the world.”
Almost every day, as I walk my dog, I open the door and peek in to see which books have been donated and which have been taken. Children’s books go fast, I’ve noticed, as do mainstream mysteries and literary fiction. Time for Bed by Mem Fox, The Battle of the Labyrinth by Rick Riordan, Counting Kisses by Karen Katz, Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn, Life After Life by Kate Atkinson, The House at Tyneford by Natasha Solomons, and Most Wanted by Lisa Scottoline all disappeared overnight. Meanwhile, none of our neighborhood readers seem interested in Joseph Campbell’s study of the primitive roots of mythology, The Masks of God, or Rodney Dangerfield’s autobiography, It’s Not Easy Bein’ Me: A Lifetime of No Respect But Plenty of Sex and Drugs.
I have a shameful confession. I am the neighbor who contributed It’s Not Easy Bein’ Me to the Little Free Library. When I placed it on the shelf, alongside prizewinning novels The Good Earth and Cold Mountain, I didn’t fully understand the philosophy of Little Free Libraries. This is clearly spelled out in the organization’s website:
Little Free Library book exchanges have a unique, personal touch. There is an understanding that real people are sharing their favorite books with their community; Little Libraries have been called “mini-town squares.”
It’s Not Easy Bein’ Me is not one of my favorite books. In fact, I have no idea how it ended up in my house. Did I pick it up at a booksellers’ conference? Did it arrive in the mail, unsolicited, for me to review? Did it belong to one of my children? I have no idea, but when I scanned my shelves for something to donate to the new Little Free Library, I didn’t see anything I wanted to part with, until I spotted It’s Not Easy Bein’ Me. I certainly didn’t want to part with one of my favorite books. Now I feel guilty, because obviously Little Free Libraries are not intended to be dumping grounds for dud books — although an article in the Denver Post calls Little Free Libraries “Little Jails for Bad Books.” Maybe someone in town is a huge Rodney Dangerfield fan and will be thrilled to find a pristine, hardcover copy of this book, free for the taking.
Little Free Libraries seem like such a wonderful idea that I was surprised to find that not everyone is in favor of them. A Wisconsin librarian, Joe says there are four Little Free Libraries near his home, and worries that, while they don’t seriously encroach on real public libraries, their existence causes people to take public libraries less seriously. In his post, “A Little Rant Against Little Free Libraries”, this librarian says “A library is not a wooden box”, and wonders if people will ask, ““Why do we need our tax money to go to something that can be done for FREE?”.
Dan Greenstone, a resident of Oak Park, Illinois, received a Little Free Library as a gift from his wife. He found that he and his family ended up supplying books to their freeloading neighbors, rarely receiving any in exchange. In a Salon article called “My Little Free Library war: How our suburban front-yard lending box made me hate books and fear my neighbors“, Greenstone says:
Little Free Library has a seductive marketing slogan that’s carved into the top of every unit: “Take a Book; Return a Book.” Such a simple equation. And such wishful thinking. Take? Oh, absolutely. People are, in fact, really good at that part.
My neighbors seem to be less greedy than Greenstone’s. I’m going to keep donating books to the Little Free Library, but it’s unlikely I’ll share my favorites. Saints for All Occasions? No way. ‘Round Midnight? I don’t think so. The Devil and Webster. No. Maybe I’d lend those to trustworthy friends. I’d be happy to donate my copy of Idaho . . . somebody might like it.