I spent a very enjoyable evening last week at the Olde Murenger House in Newport, taking part in the series of monthly poetry readings organised by Handpost Community Library Association to raise funds for the re-opening of Stow Hill Library, which after over 60 years was closed in 2013 as part of Newport County Council’s programme of cuts. It was a warm, welcoming event – and a pleasure for me to be introduced to the poetry of Kit Lambert, with its cheerily black wit. It was also excellent news to hear that, although there are details yet to be worked out, the former Stow Hill Library now looks set to be converted into Cwtsh, a community library and micro arts centre, opening next year. This is the result of a great amount of hard work by the Association – Cwtsh has no public funding, and depends on volunteers.
Cwtsh is a terrific initiative, but cuts to public services remain a real concern, and are changing the cultural landscape in Wales. The globally prestigious Cardiff International Poetry Competition will not run next year. Pontypridd’s Muni arts centre has just closed. Cameron and the coalition are probably hoping that community groups and corporate sponsorship will take up the slack, but in my view this cannot compensate for state provision of cultural and arts institutions. The danger, it seems to me, is that places such as libraries, galleries and museums – especially smaller, more local venues – will in that sort of climate come to be seen as primarily charity concerns, worthy rather than vital. Visiting them will become couched in terms of support, rather than use: something to add to the list of things that socially responsible, culture-literate, right-on citizens feel that they ought to be doing – like buying organic fruit and veg, patronising independent retailers, reading poetry…
This Saturday sees the launch of the 2014 Books Are My Bag campaign “to celebrate bookshops”. Last week we had National Poetry Day. World Book Day is coming up next spring. The cycle of high-profile literary prizes generates a year-round monsoon of press releases. It can sometimes feel as though we are constantly being chivvied by one literature-promotion after another – to buy, to celebrate, to proselytise, to look – look – look – as though reading was something that no one would actually remember to do if left to their own devices. On the one hand, I do firmly believe in the significance of independent bookshops and small presses, and would love to see poetry gain more attention in the mainstream media, so am for the most part genuinely happy to join in with these campaigns. (Here I am at the Murenger posing with a tote.) Promotional exercises do presumably get people to talk about books, which is fun – although I haven’t heard anyone debating the Next Gen list in the pub or on the street, and I suspect that most people who have had a conversation about it are already committed poetry-geeks. But, just as I fear that publicity campaigns such as Books Are My Bag, or Salt’s Just One Book (which, sadly, failed to save Salt’s poetry list, although the press is still operating), to a certain extent preach to the converted, I dread even more the idea that, by drumming up a sense of duty, they might end up provoking other people to buy the occasional book which they then never read, in the spirit of giving a tenner to Comic Relief once a year.
This is why I believe that libraries, museums, galleries and the like fulfil such an important role, and why they need a presence in the local community, with the security of public funding. If we believe that books and the arts really matter, that exposure to them makes our lives better and more meaningful, then it is essential in any community for cultural institutions simply to be there, without fuss, without selling or marketing anything, without asking people to sign up to a particular ideology or lifestyle, or to keep up with any trends; instead simply presenting material that can be accessed for free, by all, when it is wanted and when it is needed. A library is a place where you can go in, choose a book, and read. If you don’t like it, take it back and get another one. If you do like it, take it back and get another one. This is how we become readers. So good luck to Cwtsh – I hope it will be such a place. And I hope that its importance, and the importance of places like it, will be recognised by those who are supposed to have our interests at heart.