The Best Things In Life

To the Editor of the CRIMSON:

Permit me to direct your attention to a situation which affects at least ninety per cent of the undergraduate body but of which few indeed give evidence of being aware. I refer to the heating and ventilating of upper Widener. With a conscientiousness altogether in excess of the results achieved, the autocratic or powers that be maintain throughout the library a temperature of seventy eight degrees Fahrenheit. This every one knows is ten degrees more than the maximum for comforable living. Why it is considered permissible in the library I cannot imagine. Yet the fact remains: it is.

But far worce than this is the almost total absence of ventilation in the Reading Room. The air is at all times atrociously foul. One is fairly stifled by the carbon dioxide, body odors, and lack of oxygen. It is only after some minutes that one is able to breathe in comfort; and then, almost before one realizes it, the CO2 has begun to act. It makes one sluggish, drowsy, and totally incapable of his best work. Doubtless it explains why we see so many young men indolently gazing off into space while absorbed in the fascinating process of picking their noses; or why there is at every table at least one man quietly asleep.

I am myself an avowed fresh-air flend. My opinions on the subject may consequently be a trifle over hearty. But certainly no one will deny that the situation in the library is not ident--is, in fact, deplorably otherwise. It is literally impossible for me to stud, in the Reading Room, and a few nights ago I had an opportunity of observing at least one gentleman who is evidently in the same unfortunate position: during the three quarters of an hour in which I strove to read, he slept soundly and somewhat heavily in his chair, and was still asleep when I finally gave up and left in disgust.

On such a matter as this one would think a word to the wise sufficient. Let me warn the unsuspecting, however; it is not. I speak from personal experience. He who opens a window is an enemy of society. Not only will the window be closed at once, but the unfortunate person who opened it will have incurred the lasting enmity of his fellows. We cannot hope to open a window in Widener. What we can do is to see that the ventilating system, installed at great cost when the building was erected, but never used for lack of funds, is put into operation at once. Connections can easily be made with the Reading Room, if indeed they do not already, exist. Thus we can be assured of a regular supply of fresh air without draught, and consequently of a reading room which will increase rather than destroy the mental alacrity of its users. Those who desire to sleep will have in future to seek the cinema, which is much more admirably fitted for that form of inactivity anyway. Yours very truly,   Varian Fry '30.