When I first entered the Athenaeum, I was very taken aback. I knew before entering that it was, in fact, a very old library, but once I entered I thought that it must have been a movie set. It was the spitting image of what an old library should be. Small, cramped, loaded with books and ladders and small wooden desks to work at.
I walked in and signed the guest back amongst the names of all the former guests, some hailing from as far away as Italy, Brazil, and Kuwait. Walking around the room, it became very aware how small the library was. I was very aware of how many people where in the building and where they were all located at any point. Once on the second floor, I was a little nervous, could fell the strain my weight placed on the supports and could hear the very audible creaks that came with my every step. As I wondered around the building, I was overcome with a sense of New England History. The image of great American writers and academics working and reading amongst the selves filled my mind.
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