The financial situation of the Republic of Ireland is under close observation. Seems to have been thought too great ... Visit a sacred place of culture "Irish" in February 2004.
It is a sacred place and does not want be. Yet something tells me that in this long tunnel is something immortal breath. The Old Library Trinity hidden treasures of ancient leather-lined paper, but above all riches of the soul and spirit accumulated over the centuries. Dusty volumes thousands of times, and then lovingly dusted carefully, as if even the dust that was as old paper. And there's also the truth, because in the interstices of the pages have been deposited centuries have yielded. What? How? When? The mysteries remain buried under the repeated and ever new layers of dust, those confused with gunpowder, those others are mixed to dust of drought and famine, and even those with mixed confetti of gaining independence.
In the "long room" conversation with Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, Swift and Defoe, whose busts stand guard strutting the wooden alcoves that contain the ever printed, cataloged the centuries from the bottom up: a, b, c ... and yet aa, bb, cc ... Each alcove has its own ladder, which allows access to higher shelves, alphabetically mature ones. The pegs keep track of the research of scientists and curious to rise, as they appear less worn, bear the traces of the hunger for knowledge of the centuries gone by. Everything has been repainted several times, most recently - the walls, shelves, sometimes parquet - pins except those that trace the history of discriminating.
The silence is absolute, or nearly so. The books absorb the sounds, and so the wood and carpets. Even the most ancient Gaelic harp, you know - dates back to 1014, and according to legend, belonged to Brian Boru, then king of Ireland - is silent, and indeed absorbs phonemes and decibels to sublimate them in near-silence of every library-as-you -must. They are not even bearable clicks of the cameras, even the most subtle because digital: technology seems to be rejected by the paper and parchment and papyrus and cornucopia
... The sense of time expands in this gallery where the culture is eternal in the woods, but even more prominent in the marble busts. But where even the transience of human destiny is spreading dramatically, pointing out that the dust is the heritage not only of things, but also man. So is the Old Library, the jewel of Dublin very proud of its ancient treasures. Rare.
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