What's In a Name

The character Hannah Jarvis in Tom Stoppard's Arcadia is intelligent, utilitarian, precise, and scientific. She does not fall to the whims of passion. Much of Arcadia involves her arguments with Bernard on the usefulness of romanticism, which she thinks is a trivial sham. She is a teacher who does not allow others to teach her anything that does not have a series of points, perfect logical reasoning, and a useful conclusion.

Here's another JARVIS: from Iron Man. The robot in the movies originates as a man named Edwin Jarvis in the comics. The Avengers comics describe Edwin Jarvis as "a valient valet." He is also a father figure, almost without any emotional drive besides the opportunity of service and the anticipation of the heroes needs, whether they want those needs or not. He is the equivalent of Alfred Pennyworth in Batman, but less sentimental. It's not like HE has been with Iron Man since their traumatic childhoods.

And as for JARVIS... Well, he's a robot. Hard to be more utilitarian than that.

Why, then, did a librarian choose her name to match these characters? For one, something in Tom Stoppard's Arcadia gave me the impression that there was something Ms. Jarvis loved: teaching. And while the Marvel character(s) remain at the epoch of service, they complete both that service with fervor and love, in their own ways, those they serve. Service and teaching. What could be better ideals than those? Especially as I am in service as, not a librarian of books as I have been trained, but a librarian of people.

This sounds silly at first, I know. What is a Librarian without her Library? It is true that most libraries contain books, but as technology develops, the idea of a "library" has changed too much to be simply "a building or room containing collections of books, periodicals, and sometimes films and recorded music for people to read, borrow, or refer to." Yes, the place is important. There always needs to be a mothership for the aliens to have a chance at invading humanity. How else would they propagate their species without a Queen? But no matter how much we try to fight it, libraries are expanding. They are expanding onto the internet, in mobile vehicles, into prisons and after-school programs and nursing homes and university dorms. Yes, we've nigh eliminated them from public schools, but still they retain their significance in the public sphere.

Libraries don't just hold books anymore, either. They have DVD's and video games and consoles, lawnmowers, art equipment, and even, for Goodness' Sake, Puppet Parades. And yes, for more than a decade a select few libraries have been collecting people as public resources, volunteers who spend an hour with their library patron and explain to them what they do in life or how their religion works or what it means to them to be different in a certain way. Being a librarian of people isn't groundbreaking, but it is unusual to be completely without the Place, as if I am a rogue agent in a foreign land.

There are many of those who have the ability to be librarians of people. Counselors, social workers, nurses and doctors, teachers, waitresses, secretaries, IRS, and actual librarians. Those who spend their lives working with people, sorting out their problems and then filing them away are perfect candidates for the undercover work I engage in. The only element they are missing is awareness. The only element they lack is sonder.