사람들이 모여 '책읽기 파티'를 연다?
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http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/the-reading-party/Content?oid=3845017
The Silent-Reading Party
On the Unexpected Sexiness of Many People Quietly Reading and Drinking in Public
THE FIRESIDE ROOM Reading allowed, not aloud.
Every first Wednesday of the month at 6:00 p.m., the Fireside Room at the Sorrento Hotel goes quiet and fills with people—crazy-haired, soft-spoken, inscrutable, dorky, NPRish, punk, white, black. The reading public. It fills right away, all these people who don't know each other, and they sit very closely, sometimes three strangers to a couch. By 7:00 p.m., you can't get a seat.
The party spills into the foyer—there's a table for chess or whatever near the elevator, and two people sitting there, staring into books. A reporter for the Shoreline Community College newspaper showed up the last time to ask about the event, but it's not much of an event: Nothing happens. No one ever addresses the room. No one reads anything at you through a microphone. You just sit and read and get waited on, and leave whenever you feel like it. And Manhattans are on special—$7 until 9:00 pm.
You can read whatever you want, and it runs the gamut. Two reading parties ago, a business lawyer next to me was reading that day's New York Times. An art critic was reading A Brief History of Curating by Hans Ulrich Obrist. A singer/performer/musician was reading Moby-Dick. A furniture maker was reading Where We Live Now: An Annotated Reader, edited by Matthew Stadler. Charles Mudede was reading Walter Benjamin, possibly for the billionth time. An investigative journalist was reading Robert Greenfield's Exile on Main St., about the Rolling Stones recording Exile on Main St. A food critic was reading Elaine Dundy's The Dud Avocado, a drunky 1950s New York novel gorgeously republished recently by NYRB. A woman at the next table was reading Michael Lewis's The Big Short. Someone else was scribbling in a notebook; there's one in every crowd.
The insane thing about a party where you're not supposed to make small talk is that it makes you want to make small talk. You almost can't not do it. (But what a relief to not have to!) If you go with friends, someone will quietly explode over what they're reading and you will want to know what it is, or they will interrupt your reading and hand you their book and say, "Just read this—just this paragraph." At the last reading party, a man and a woman were sitting in leather wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, and he was reading Joseph Campbell and she was, well, listening to him whisper to her about Joseph Campbell. I unsuccessfully eavesdropped. I could only make out "theological shifts," "how we live," "ethical." Hearing "ethical" sent me back a few pages (in Nabokov's Pnin) to reread something I'd just underlined: "Some people, and I am one of them, hate happy ends. We feel cheated. Harm is the norm. Doom should not jam. The avalanche stopping in its tracks a few feet above the cowering village behaves not only unnaturally but unethically..." (I was happy to be reading Pnin and not Joseph Campbell. No offense to Joseph Campbell.)
Possibly these two were on a date. Other people in the room were clearly on dates. Still others were not on dates and glancing around the room, obviously in hopes of future dates. Something underrated blossoms between strangers who aren't talking to each other, especially if they are comfortably doing something together. And it can't be denied that watching someone read is sexy, seeing them unself-consciously concentrating on something else, wondering what they're thinking, imagining their brain folds forming. And yet there's also something sweet about the person who is reading a book in order to be seen reading that book, hoping someone will ask.
The Shoreline Community College newspaper reporter asked how it started: Annie Wagner (former Stranger staffer) and Brendan Kiley (still a Stranger staffer) and I used to read after work together at Brendan's apartment. Brendan always had tea and cheese and figs and tomatoes and dark chocolate and whiskey, and lived in an apartment with lots of chairs and lamps. We were all going to be at home alone reading otherwise; why not do it together? So civilized. So casual. None of the pressures of talking! Mixed with intermittent talking, when you couldn't resist! Then Brendan got a new apartment and Annie moved to Chicago and sometimes, walking by the Sorrento, I would think: We should do it there, and it should be open to anyone, and it should be free. And, helpfully, the Sorrento agreed. You should come next time. Bring whatever. 
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http://www.libraryasincubatorproject.org/?p=13599
Kitsap Regional Library Threw a Reading Party… at the Museum!
by on Mar 13, 2014 • 7:00 am
y Audrey Barbakoff, Kitsap Regional Library
Poster designed by David Frasier, KRL
How can a library and an art museum partner in a fresh and meaningful way?
I started asking myself this question when a new art museum opened in my community last year. Bainbridge Island Museum of Art (BIMA) has so much in common with the library; it is driven by and focused on our local community, it strives to open people’s minds and hearts to new stories and ideas, and it values partnerships with other groups to create rich cultural experiences. However, when I tried to distill these lofty aspirations into actual concrete joint events, I struggled. What could we do that would that would spark community-wide conversation and excitement about reading and art?
Just when I was feeling well and truly stumped, BIMA opened its in-house café. Suddenly, I was reminded of a 2010 article from The Stranger about a reading party held at a Seattle bar. Once a month, silent readers gather to enjoy their books over a drink. Of course! What better place to revel in the art of reading and writing than the museum, surrounded by stunning art of all kinds?
Happily, BIMA celebrates literature as a fine art, just as much as painting or sculpture. They were excited about the idea, and we set a date a few weeks out. The premise was simple: come read in the exhibits. For a period of two hours, we encouraged people to bring blankets, take over chairs and benches, order wine or tea in the cafe – just find a lovely and inspiring place to read whatever they liked. I brought a cart of books and magazines covering a broad range of fiction and nonfiction. Because the choice of reading material was completely personal, this was a truly all-ages event.
The museum and the library worked together to advertise the event which we billed as “the quietest party you’ll ever attend.”
The day of the event, I set up my book cart in a highly visible spot by the museum entrance. Nearly everyone, whether they had come for the event or the exhibits, stopped to chat with me. Most flipped through several books, asked for recommendations, or talked about something they were reading. It was reader’s advisory heaven! Some people who hadn’t heard about the event borrowed books and joined right in.
One of my favorite parts of this program was how many people expressed relief and joy at being able to carve out some quiet time to read. Having a scheduled event helped them give themselves permission to take a time-out from their busy lives. Even though the participants didn’t speak to each other, being surrounded by other readers made each person feel supported by a larger reading community.
One of the reasons this event was such a wonderful fit for the art museum is that the readers themselves became a kind of exhibit.
Any museum visitor during that time saw the importance and beauty of reading modeled all around them. I hope they went home and felt inspired to practice the art of reading themselves.
I plan to repeat this event at the art museum, and I’m also excited to consider expanding it to places like schools, parks, and restaurants. For such a low-effort, portable program, the impact of seeing a librarian and readers in a surprising place is enormous. Treat your community of readers to the quietest party they will ever attend!
Audrey Barbakoff is an Adult Services Manager and Librarian at Kitsap Regional Library, where she loves to create and advocate for adult programming. She is a 2013 Library Journal Mover & Shaker and 2013 ALA Emerging Leader. Her articles on public librarianship have appeared in American Libraries, Public Libraries, Library Philosophy and Practice, andIn the Library with the Lead Pipe. She has written book chapters for Greening Libraries andLibrary Services for Multicultural Patrons to Encourage Library Use. She received her MLIS from the iSchool at the University of Washington in 2010.
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