I enjoy the Duke libraries (controversial, I know). It is the perfect locale to glimpse into the lives of Duke students and exemplifies much of what we seek from learning and being here. From the endless scribbles on the Edge whiteboards to the little doodles on the Perkins work desks, all demonstrate how we interact with academic spaces and leave our mark on them.
And when we interact with these spaces, we grow attached. After all, humans are creatures of habit: We define spaces and mould ourselves into them. We gravitate toward certain spaces more than others, be it because of the vibes, the people or some combination of both. Some of us will go to war over their spot in the third row, second from the left at the Gothic Reading Room, while others will exclusively study at the Co-Lab, even if it's 3 a.m. (actually, especially if it's 3 a.m.). And when we occupy these spaces over the course of four years, they come to define us as much as we define them.
We will change the culture here, as it will change us. Place and person collide, converging to a new equilibrium altogether different from our initial conditions — just like a thermodynamic system. Whether it is the libraries closing earlier because of disuse or the “share a story” machines, we are redefining how we connect with libraries and each other. And in the same sense, we will be influenced by those talking about existentialism next to us while we're trying to study or by the Kafka and Chargaff exhibits in Perkins. We will take this beyond our time here, and it will reflect in the journeys that we forge henceforth.
So let us embark on one such journey, and hear out my extremely accurate, realistic and non-negotiable takes on the libraries — and you, dear reader.
Perkins Library
Starting off with the canonical Duke Library: the safest bet. Basic even, I’m afraid. Perkins comes off to me as the most Duke-coded library. If your favourite library is Perkins, it would not surprise me if you also applied early decision here. Perkins brings with it much conversation: The first floor is in a constant state of activity. It seems familiar, like an old friend at a cafe on an autumn day.
Speaking of cafes: Saladelia. You enjoy coffee, and the aroma it brings to the library. You enjoy studying hard (or hardly studying) with your friends and the presence of other people. But despite this, there are parts of you that seek solitude. In the silence of the fourth floor, you enjoy the view of the chapel as you study. Occasionally, you’ll fall asleep in the OASIS, but you never tell anyone about it because your secret spot could get stolen. You enjoy the modernity of design, the near liminal feel of some floors. Sometimes, you’ll run through the stacks, feeling their never-ending grandeur envelope you. Or … you’ll try to complete some graduation requirements. I don’t know.
What I do know is that you’re a personable and fun person to be around, and you’re trying to find a balance in who you are and where you want to be. You meet people in the middle, and see them for what they are.
Rubenstein Library
You’re not in “Dead Poets Society” or “The Secret History,” and that’s your biggest disappointment with life. Rubenstein is, to me, the grandest of the libraries. I remember being a freshman and being awestruck by the entrance, which seemed straight out of “Legend of Zelda.” You probably share this awe and read a lot of classics and philosophy. You may think you’re not like other people. You’re attached to the moody feeling the Gothic Reading Room gives you and are in the minority who aren’t scared by the deafening silence that befalls the room. You enjoy the solitude of life and long walks with the winter breeze blowing in your hair.
You are possibly guilty of listening to too many dark-academia playlists and staring pensively out of the third-floor windows, pretending to be the main character of an indie coming-of-age film. You enjoy the arts and the way history intertwines with it. You give good advice to friends, but struggle to apply them to yourself. You enjoy the past and often find yourself reminiscing and retrospecting. Occasionally, you will have a coughing fit in the Gothic Reading Room and think about it for days when the person sitting across gives you the irritated side-eye. But you shouldn’t. (They were probably just concerned for your well-being.)
You’re a very interesting person, and I think conversations with you turn deep no matter the start. Sometimes, you’re difficult to find, because you close early during the holidays. Your insight and presence is always valued by those around you.
Bostock Library
You’re (delusionally) confident that you can find an empty Project Room, or that you haven’t overworked yourself to dark circles darker than a black hole. Bostock is like a spring day, with its warm lighting and ample couches. The upper floors are meditative, looking out to E-quad and around. The desks are littered with little doodles and words of encouragement. I think you’re endlessly optimistic and believe in the goodness of those around you. You contribute well to group projects, much to the relief of others. You like working with people, but enjoy your own company the most.
Your need for sleep will occasionally overpower your endless passion for your work, which is when your friends will catch you napping on the couches on the fourth floor, with your jacket on your face. You’re the opposite of Rubenstein-goers in your endless consumption of light-academia playlists. You seem to enjoy technology, and exploring how it intersects with society is often on your mind. You want to travel the world. Most likely, you’ve accidentally played music aloud in the Carpenter Reading Room, thinking your headphones were connected. You’ve maybe stared for a bit too long out of that window, though. Not your fault: The green of those trees takes you to a stirring reverie.
You’re a dreamer and a doer. You know what you want, and you want a lot. But if there’s a person who I know could make it come alive, it’s you. People will end up taking less than flattering pictures of you if you keep napping on the couches, but that’s what memories are for, right?
Bonus: Lilly Library
You peaked in first year. That’s it.
Not really ... But you did have a great freshman year, and you perhaps read more comics than your Linear Algebra textbook (I fear you cooked yourself). Lilly reminds me of a summer day, warm but bright. I think of the radiant marble reflecting the light of the sun, the inside cool and calm. You’re someone who enjoys the idea of the future, but always ends up missing the past. You like your academic spaces to reflect your personality, and sometimes this causes you to get distracted quickly. Like that time when you ended up watching the 3D printers for an hour.
You enjoy meeting new people, to an extent, and observing them. You’d sometimes sit in the reading rooms, subjecting yourself to people flirting at the table next to you. This time, you were the one giving the irritated side-eye. (It won’t work, sorry.) So you’ll end up in the stacks, staring out at the tennis courts. You’ll think about your (very short) time here. You’ll think about the many clubs you’re in (that number will decline rapidly) and the friends awaiting you at Marketplace. You’re always thinking about something or the other. You like aesthetics, but not when it compromises with practicality, much like the distinct vibes of the second floor of Lilly, contrasted with the modernism of the basement. You have had conversations too loud in there or tripped on the way to the basement, but it's okay. You were learning. And that’s the best thing about you. You’re always growing, you’re always changing. You’re thinking about the past, the present, the future. Who you were, who you are, and who you will be. You’re scared. You’re excited. And that’s what makes you compelling. You’re always trying.
The library you spend twelve hours “locking in” at is just one of the many ways that Duke shapes each of us. While there are many study spots on campus — and we all have our favorites — know that there exists a (secret) best choice. Which one? That is for me to know and you to find out!
Shambhavi Sinha is a Trinity sophomore. Her pieces typically run on alternate Mondays.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.