Our new camp mythology and setting are based around a powerful question: what if the Library of Alexandria wasn't destroyed, but was instead transported to a magical realm? As our heroes explore this new world where characters leap off the pages of history, mythology, and literature, we wanted to share real stories of the greatest library that ever existed (it's our Roman empire) as well as the stories they have inspired at our camp. Today's story is about the process of how the librarians of old acquired so many works in one place.
When you conjure up an image of a librarian, it is probably someone dressed in some form of a sweater or pullover with neat hair, a brooch or two, glasses, and a kindly demeanor (unless you are making too much noise). And the process of them collecting a book back from you is usually as simple and civil as a very polite reminder email.
But what if I told you some of the very first and most famous librarians were a little more…piratical? The Library of Alexandria was known to contain many of the only or first edition copies of famous works from around the world. It was a dragon’s hoard -- if your dragon were a book-wyrm. And like any hoard or treasure, one of the best ways to assemble that much of any item is to take it. And that’s just what the librarians did.
Ptolemy I, King of Egypt, is often credited with founding the Library of Alexandria and wanting it to be the greatest library in the world. Then, Ptolemy II had the lofty ambition for the Library to procure a copy of every book in the world. Under the weight of these lofty goals, the actual librarians needed to take some quick and hasty actions to acquire books. Usually, this was accomplished by sending librarians out to purchase books. We have documentation of some of these requests dating back to the 2nd century BC:
“Demetrius of Phalerum, the president of the King’s library, received vast sums of money for the purpose of collecting together, as far as he possibly could, all the books in the world. By means of purchase and transcription, he carried out, to the best of his ability, the purpose of the king.”¹ Money (and lots of it) worked most of the time. But should the more straightforward attempt fail, the more exciting method of acquisition was to liberate the literature right out of the hands of its owner by force or subterfuge.
One of the many jobs of the librarians of Alexandria was to be stationed at the docks near the library. Were they receiving shipments? No, no, no. They were under different orders: “Ptolemy, the king of Egypt, was so eager to collect books, that he ordered the books of everyone who sailed there to be brought to him. The books were then copied into new manuscripts. He gave the new copy to the owners, whose books had been brought to him after they sailed there, but he put the original copy in the library.”² These dock-working librarians would board the boat, requisition (i.e. steal) books off the boat, and whisk them away to the library returning the copies later. This method proved successful and there were very few documented complaints. Having your work inside the Library of Alexandria was a great honor and you were usually compensated for your “donation”. But, not everyone was willing to part with the originals.
In one of the more famous stories³ of how the Great Library was “pirating” original works, Ptolemy III asked to “borrow” the original copies of the works of Greek playwrights Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides from the Athenians. Hesitant to hand over these works even temporarily, Ptolemy came up with a solution. He would give the Athenians 15 talents of silver (equivalent to over a quarter of a million dollars today) as collateral to return the works. The Athenians agreed believing their works secure with such an exuberant sum as assurance. Ptolemy had beautiful, near-perfect copies of the works made. Any patron of the library would be unable to tell the difference. But driven by the piratical greed for originals, Ptolemy gave back the copies instead of the originals to the Athenians. When they protested, Ptolemy happily surrendered the silver pointing out that in their contract they agreed if not returned they would take the money instead. It was quite some time before Athens sent any original works to the library again.
So the next time you visit your local library, take a moment to envision those supposedly mild, cardigan-wearing civil servants not behind their creaky old desks but instead boarding a ship in a dramatic leap, sword flying free of its scabbard, and demanding the first-editions of the literal treasure aboard. Who says working at a library can't be exciting? Join me in three cheers for the curator corsairs, the literature liberators, or my new favorite name for librarians: your local book-aneers.
¹ “Extracts from Greek and Latin writers in translation.” Attalus (website). https://www.attalus.org/translate/extracts.html
² “The Foundation of the Library: the Letter to Aristeas version.” The Ancient Library of Alexandria (website). http://www.alexandrianlibrary.org/?page_id=247.
³ “Myth and History: Galen and the Alexandrian Library–Ancient Libraries (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013), p. 364-376.” researchinglibrarianresearch.wordpress.com/2022/04/04/myth-and-history-galen-and-the-alexandrian-library-ancient-libraries-new-york-cambridge-university-press-2013-p-364-376/
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