Certain people of my acquaintence have been known to speak slightingly of New Haven and its environs. The noun “hole” has come up from time to time, as has the adjective “dead”.
I am pleased to report that Havers is, at least so far (about 3 weeks now) turning out to be a very pleasant place to live. It’s biggest drawback so far is that it doesn’t have many names that lend themselves to hypocoristics. How on earth would we form a clippie on Quinnipiac? East Rock? Temple St?
I went to the library a few days ago to check out (literally and metaphorically) their Australian grammar collection. It’s definitely an Ivy League library. There’s no sign for the entrance to the stacks, it’s inferred from the presence of the security guard in front of a dark doorway. Once beyond the guard station, one is confronted by a dimly lit box-like room, with an elevator at one end and unmarked doors on all sides. A perusal of the 8-point shelf guide approximately 6′ from the floor (I am 5’4″) tell me that I want floor 2M for PL7000-. I’m guessing that this is what I want, because like all true Ivy League libraries, there are at least two call number systems and I don’t know exactly when they switched form whatever they used before to Library of Congress (at Harvard I once worked out it must have been about 1958).
I go to the second floor and the elevator* lets me out into a corridor with numbered (but otherwise mostly unmarked) doors. Eventually I find a door with no numbers on it at all, and on opening it come into a just about completely dark room with biggestmob books. This is the stacks. Harvard’s stacks are pretty dim but there are some actual windows. None of the hazards of natural lighting for Yale’s books though! Your intrepid Lara Croft: Verb Raider finds the light switch at the end of the stack row and proceeds to claim the treasure. There is one last piece of evidence that I’m in an Ivy Leage library… the shelf planks are sufficiently close together that the A4 Australian language centre produced dictionaries don’t fit upright, so they’ve been put on the shelves spine-down, so it’s impossible to work out what they are unless you take them off the shelves (or unless, like my Classics friend who could recognise all the AFL club songs from the preliminary applause patterns, you can recognise them by their thickness).
*No, I wouldn’t normally take the lift to go one floor, but I couldn’t find the stairwell.