> It was Louise who chose the line ‘Love is all and death is nought’ which is by Robert Browning, apparently, though I haven’t yet identified which poem it’s from.
It's at the end of the epilogue to 'Fifine at the Fair'.
Thank you Sarah, I was very pleased to be a tourist! It was a lovely, engaged audience for my talk, which makes all the difference as you will know from your book festival.
Thank you for sharing your experience - the library looks magical. Great cathedrals tend to have these hidden libraries- there is one in Salisbury Cathedral, open to the public only a few times a year and accessed by a very narrow staircase: Wren, who was born in East Knoyle in Wiltshire, was friends with Bishop of Salisbury and was commissioned to do a survey of the cathedral, must have known about it.
Funny how official histories keep orbiting the architecture—the marble, the sanctioned brilliance—as if reverence were the only lens. What stayed with me wasn’t Wren or the dome. It was the quiet admission of a woman who knew her mind was built for deeper work and spent her life being handed errands instead. The hidden library feels like the truest metaphor: the room she should have belonged to, kept immaculate, just out of reach, waiting for someone else.
That's such a good way of putting it Sophie. Louise was certainly a dutiful wife and mother (yet still berated herself for not being unselfish enough, and arguing with her husband occasionally). She would have loved to spend more time in that peaceful library. Luckily, she had enough stamina to to return to her writing later on, in another place, but it is still poignant that so many women were locked out of the library for so long, as Woolf said in A Room of One's Own.
What stories could those burned books and manuscripts have told us I wonder - all the more wonderful that this library has remained safe and sound for the last 300 years. What a treat to discover it Ann!
Thanks so much, Sheena! I did feel moved to think about how the library gradually rebuilt itself- and especially how one copy of the little Tyndale bible survived and ended up finding its way back into the collection.
Really like the picture at top of the intricate design within the curves.
And the punt going along the Cam River, the river which seems so narrow in the picture. Maybe it widens as it heads out of town, though the whole area seems densely populated. The curve and designs looking up in the library make me think of Byzantium where east meets west (if I understand that correctly). I see it as mellowing of hard edges or straight lines that otherwise lack nuance in the direction headed. The intricate designs don't look exactly repeated so there is more suspense in what one will see, looking at them each individually. Sort of a built in antidote to boredom which is the hallmark of most best designs.
Thanks Larry, I hadn't thought of the Byzantine connection, but the intricately gilded ceilings do seem a nod to it. And I like your definition of good design as an antidote to boredom! Exactly so. Yes the river Cam is very narrow at that point, I think that's probably where the old river crossing was (appropriately, I was standing on the metal bridge that gave Cambridge its name).
What a balm to read about and see pictures of this astonishing place. America feels party rough and raw at the moment. I think that a trip to London is in order.
Thank you so much Elizabeth, and I hope you do come over for a visit! Not that it's perfect here... but sometimes getting away, and walking around quiet, historic places can be a balm in itself.
Thank you so much June, I enjoyed thinking about what might have inspired Wren. It seemed such an intimate space after all the grandeur on display. And how fitting that a Tyndale Bible made its way back there!
Absolutely breathtaking. What a marvelous place to visit.
I have spent several semesters teaching in London. I'd visited St. Paul's with my family for evensong on various occasions, but we only did the full tour for the first time a year ago. I did not even know this library existed, though. Maybe the next time!
Thank you Peter, I hope you fit in a visit next time... and I must make sure I get to evensong there too one of these days. Even the rehearsal sounded magical.
What a marvelous story — set of stories — thank you! I love the story about Donne's effigy surviving the fire, and had never heard of the ”if you seek a monument, look around you” plaque. How perfect that is.
Thanks Maria, and there must be so many stories associated with this place! I agree with you about the plaque, I hadn't known where that quotation came from. Also amazing is the John Donne effigy (which he posed for in his winding sheet), as is its 'survival story' - the statue is said to have slid into the safety of the crypt when the Great Fire took hold.
My heavens — that whole thing about posing in a shroud being as much about depicting the moment of resurrection as about depicting the moment of death is fascinating. It would ever, ever have occured to me.
I was thinking after I wrote the comment that all of the stories in this essay are about things either surviving or being restored — like the books in the library — one way or another. Even the story of the cloth being put to new use. It all cheered me up.
Also thinking about Donne writing about death. I've only got a couple of lines of Death Be Not Proud living in my head — the beginning and the end, I think — but since reading your piece and seeing the photo of the statue I've had his words ”no man is an island, entire of itself,…” ringing in my ears. I think that they're among the most beautiful prose that exists, and it was so nice to have them pulled up in this way. [Edited to correct my misquote! It's ”a part of the main,” not ”a part of the whole.” And — why not, in case it would be nice — to add a link to his Death Be Not Proud, having just found it to read again: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44107/holy-sonnets-death-be-not-proud]
Yes — but perhaps not everyone in her position would have thought of it for others. This anecdote shows her as such a normal person, somehow, in the best way.
What a magnificent place to visit! The photographs took my breath away. Seriously, I have a recurring dream of being in this space staring up at the tallest shelves. Thanks for sharing the adventure.
I only found out about the library shortly before I went there, so it was great being shown around it. Christopher Wren packed a lot of good architecture into his 90 years on earth!
> It was Louise who chose the line ‘Love is all and death is nought’ which is by Robert Browning, apparently, though I haven’t yet identified which poem it’s from.
It's at the end of the epilogue to 'Fifine at the Fair'.
Thanks so much David! That is very helpful.
Wonderful tour! I'd love to see the library, which sounds like it's open to the public? And I wish I could have been there for your talk!
Thank you Sarah, I was very pleased to be a tourist! It was a lovely, engaged audience for my talk, which makes all the difference as you will know from your book festival.
So true about an engaged audience!
Thank you for sharing your experience - the library looks magical. Great cathedrals tend to have these hidden libraries- there is one in Salisbury Cathedral, open to the public only a few times a year and accessed by a very narrow staircase: Wren, who was born in East Knoyle in Wiltshire, was friends with Bishop of Salisbury and was commissioned to do a survey of the cathedral, must have known about it.
I didn't know that, Anna, and it's so interesting to hear about Wren's links to Salisbury Cathedral. It does sound as if he was inspired by it.
So much history. It almost feels as if St Paul’s is where history happened. Beautiful pictures of the library.
Thank you, Simon! It was such a treat to go there, and think about how it all started.
Funny how official histories keep orbiting the architecture—the marble, the sanctioned brilliance—as if reverence were the only lens. What stayed with me wasn’t Wren or the dome. It was the quiet admission of a woman who knew her mind was built for deeper work and spent her life being handed errands instead. The hidden library feels like the truest metaphor: the room she should have belonged to, kept immaculate, just out of reach, waiting for someone else.
That's such a good way of putting it Sophie. Louise was certainly a dutiful wife and mother (yet still berated herself for not being unselfish enough, and arguing with her husband occasionally). She would have loved to spend more time in that peaceful library. Luckily, she had enough stamina to to return to her writing later on, in another place, but it is still poignant that so many women were locked out of the library for so long, as Woolf said in A Room of One's Own.
What stories could those burned books and manuscripts have told us I wonder - all the more wonderful that this library has remained safe and sound for the last 300 years. What a treat to discover it Ann!
Thanks so much, Sheena! I did feel moved to think about how the library gradually rebuilt itself- and especially how one copy of the little Tyndale bible survived and ended up finding its way back into the collection.
A beautiful library. An oasis for the mind and spirit. Great article Ann.
Thank you Lucy!
Really like the picture at top of the intricate design within the curves.
And the punt going along the Cam River, the river which seems so narrow in the picture. Maybe it widens as it heads out of town, though the whole area seems densely populated. The curve and designs looking up in the library make me think of Byzantium where east meets west (if I understand that correctly). I see it as mellowing of hard edges or straight lines that otherwise lack nuance in the direction headed. The intricate designs don't look exactly repeated so there is more suspense in what one will see, looking at them each individually. Sort of a built in antidote to boredom which is the hallmark of most best designs.
Thanks Larry, I hadn't thought of the Byzantine connection, but the intricately gilded ceilings do seem a nod to it. And I like your definition of good design as an antidote to boredom! Exactly so. Yes the river Cam is very narrow at that point, I think that's probably where the old river crossing was (appropriately, I was standing on the metal bridge that gave Cambridge its name).
What a balm to read about and see pictures of this astonishing place. America feels party rough and raw at the moment. I think that a trip to London is in order.
Thank you so much Elizabeth, and I hope you do come over for a visit! Not that it's perfect here... but sometimes getting away, and walking around quiet, historic places can be a balm in itself.
Oh my goodness me! What a glorious post, and so many rabbit holes to go down.
Thank you so much June, I enjoyed thinking about what might have inspired Wren. It seemed such an intimate space after all the grandeur on display. And how fitting that a Tyndale Bible made its way back there!
I loved the old effigies…
John Donne in his winding shroud is hard to beat!
How beautiful, Ann. I had no idea thus existed. Another one for my lengthy 'places I must visit' list!
Yes, I was glad to have heard about it. Now must think of a good excuse to do some research there (but it was lovely just to be shown around).
Absolutely breathtaking. What a marvelous place to visit.
I have spent several semesters teaching in London. I'd visited St. Paul's with my family for evensong on various occasions, but we only did the full tour for the first time a year ago. I did not even know this library existed, though. Maybe the next time!
Thank you Peter, I hope you fit in a visit next time... and I must make sure I get to evensong there too one of these days. Even the rehearsal sounded magical.
Wonderful hidden library of London - thank you!
It was so enjoyable to discover it, and think about how that precious book collection started again after the fire.
What a marvelous story — set of stories — thank you! I love the story about Donne's effigy surviving the fire, and had never heard of the ”if you seek a monument, look around you” plaque. How perfect that is.
Thanks Maria, and there must be so many stories associated with this place! I agree with you about the plaque, I hadn't known where that quotation came from. Also amazing is the John Donne effigy (which he posed for in his winding sheet), as is its 'survival story' - the statue is said to have slid into the safety of the crypt when the Great Fire took hold.
https://churchmonumentssociety.org/monument-of-the-month/the-john-donne-monument-d-1631-by-nicholas-stone-st-pauls-cathedral-london
My heavens — that whole thing about posing in a shroud being as much about depicting the moment of resurrection as about depicting the moment of death is fascinating. It would ever, ever have occured to me.
I was thinking after I wrote the comment that all of the stories in this essay are about things either surviving or being restored — like the books in the library — one way or another. Even the story of the cloth being put to new use. It all cheered me up.
Also thinking about Donne writing about death. I've only got a couple of lines of Death Be Not Proud living in my head — the beginning and the end, I think — but since reading your piece and seeing the photo of the statue I've had his words ”no man is an island, entire of itself,…” ringing in my ears. I think that they're among the most beautiful prose that exists, and it was so nice to have them pulled up in this way. [Edited to correct my misquote! It's ”a part of the main,” not ”a part of the whole.” And — why not, in case it would be nice — to add a link to his Death Be Not Proud, having just found it to read again: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44107/holy-sonnets-death-be-not-proud]
Also, Queen Victoria's utterly human and kind response to someone else spending a hot day in that astounding piece of cloth.
Yes, that was nice! She probably recognized how uncomfortable (while glorious to look at) that sort of outfit could be on a warm day.
Yes — but perhaps not everyone in her position would have thought of it for others. This anecdote shows her as such a normal person, somehow, in the best way.
What a magnificent place to visit! The photographs took my breath away. Seriously, I have a recurring dream of being in this space staring up at the tallest shelves. Thanks for sharing the adventure.
I only found out about the library shortly before I went there, so it was great being shown around it. Christopher Wren packed a lot of good architecture into his 90 years on earth!