Saga of the Short Classic

This is one of the most vivid memories I have of working the reference desk at Tysons-Pimmit Branch Library in the Fairfax County Library System.  (This was way before Tysons was a huge regional library, but when it was housed in two ground-floor apartments in the high-rise complex nearby.)

The English class students at the neighborhood high school had been assigned to read a classic contained on a reading list--not an uncommon assignment for librarians to deal with.  We had a copy of the assignment and knew which books were included on the list.  To save time, we had pulled many copies of the books from the fiction shelves and had them available near the ref desk.

A sturdy young man walked up to the desk while I was working and asked how he could find the classics.

I was young.  What can I say?  I was trying to be helpful.


"What are you interested in?" I asked.

We started talking.  He liked fishing--especially deep sea fishing.

Ah ha!  Moby Dick!  Perfect.

Well, there were two copies of Moby Dick.  One contained sporadic line drawings and was written in readable type which made it a comfortable size book.  The other was printed in OED-like type, minus the magnifying glass.

I held up both copies, gave a shorter than Cliff's Notes synopsis (emphasizing the whale, of course!), described the cosmetic difference between the books, and held them out for him to look at.

"I'll take the shorter one," he said, grabbing it and turning toward the circ desk.

I tried to convince him that the books were actually the same and the other one would be easier to read, but the slim "short" classic won out.

What did I learn?  Not only to try to give the patron what he wants, but to give it to him in a form that would help him enjoy it.

I've always wondered how the young man fared reading his "short" version of Moby Dick.