Running the Books: The Adventures of an Accidental Prison Librarian

Running through this memoir by a greenhorn librarian/creative-writing teacher in a Boston prison is a subliminal meditation on the power of words to liberate, isolate, connive, cajole, and dispute.

‘During a debate with a fellow hustler, C.C. Too Sweet scored major points when he said, “With all due, and undue, respect, the difference between me and you is the following: You are nonsensical while I, my brother, am ineffable. In case you ain’t mastered your diction, I’ll break that down for you—ineffable, meaning: I can not, and will not, be effed with.”’

After my rage subsided (apparently, Boston’s Suffolk County House of Correction hires snarky, young Harvard graduates with bachelor’s degrees in English as prison librarians, rather than actual librarians), I enjoyed this touching memoir.

After a few years of aimless, post-graduation wandering, Avi Steinberg comes across an ad in Craig’s List (Craig’s List? really?) for a job as a prison librarian. (To be fair, one of his duties was to teach creative writing, so that might explain why he was hired, but still.) He works at the prison for two years and, during that time, interacts with a wide variety of colorful characters, both inmates and staff. Especially touching is the story of Jessica, an inmate who finds that the son she show more abandoned as a baby, has been sent to the men’s unit of the prison as an 18 year old boy. Steinberg tells the heartbreaking story of her attempt to connect with him after all this time through the limited channels available to prison inmates.

Throughout the memoir, we also get glimpses of Steinberg’s upbringing in a strict Orthodox Jewish household. While, for the most part, he has abandoned his religion, it still informs much of his life. Particularly interesting is his relationship with his cold and emotionally unavailable grandmother, a Holocaust survivor.

Although the jobs are few and far between, I’ve always thought I’d be willing to apply for a prison librarian position, upon graduation. However, after reading this, I was somewhat surprised to learn that the most stressful aspect of the job is not dealing with the inmates, but rather with the ongoing conflict between civilian staff (librarians, teachers, psychologists) and the guards/administration. The groups hold polar opposite philosophies about how to treat inmates (we’re here to help them versus there’s no hope for them and we’re here to keep order), which seems to cause an ongoing conflict that often erupts into serious incidents and even violence (!).

All in all, this is a warm, witty, and touching memoir. I do have a special interest in prison librarianship, but I think this would be an enjoyable read for anyone. Nice job, Avi Steinberg! show less

The last thing Avi expected to become was a prison librarian. This former Orthodox Jew without an MLS applied for the job because, well why not? It was full time and came with benefits, which was more than he could say for writing obits. But the job came with much more than the description in the ad could entail.

As a librarian in a public library, I usually skip over books that are about working at a library. It feels too much like bringing work home. This memoir intrigued me, however, reminding me of a class I look en route to my MLS on serving underserved populations. Our class even visited a prison library as a field trip. And, I figured, his job was different enough from mine not to feel like bringing work home.

Well, soon after show more starting this book I realized how much of an understatement that was. At first I was put off by his casual use of swear words and his attitude towards the religious life he left behind. After he got the job, however, I became fascinated with some of the details of his interactions with inmates, his struggles with "the right thing to do" in various situations, and what his job entailed. It's about as different as a job in the same field can possibly be; we both work with books and try to have materials on the shelves that interest our patrons, but that's about as far as the similarities go. The high stress of his job and the constant battle between serving the inmates and keeping the guards happy gets to him after awhile. The descriptions of prison life and the lifestyle and choice of the men and women who were in that prison are not pretty, and drained me just reading the book. By the time I got to the end, the book started to feel disjointed and hard to follow. I wasn't sure if I ran out of steam or the author did. Still, this is a profession that doesn't get a lot of notice, and I enjoyed this look into an aspect of librarianship that is often fraught with difficulty. show less

I find it hard to describe this book. When I had finished it, I knew I had been allowed a glimpse of something profound. But when I started it, I spent the first 100 or so pages wandering through the peripatetic mind of the author as he lets us into his rather jumbled mind and wondering if he was EVER going to get to the point. A self-described refugee from Yeshiva and then Harvard- where he wrote a dissertation on something to do with the symbolism of carrots in Bugs Bunny stories, he finds himself in his early 20's barely eeking out a living writing obituaries for the Boston Globe. When he sees an advertisement for a prison librarian job offering full-time employment AND BENEFITS, he applies.

The book is full of wonders. The first show more wonder is that he is makes it through the drug screening and the interview process. The second wonder is that he is hired. The third is that he is not killed by any of the inmates. And the fourth is that he not only figures out what the job is, he also figures out who he is and what he is capable of accomplishing in the job.

The final wonder is that I finished the book and loved it. I realize now that the book mirrors the author's life...disorganized and wandering at the beginning, questioning and tentative as he begins the job, and finally poignant, moving and inspirational at the end, as he finds ways to bring something positive into the lives of many of his 'patrons.'

There are extraordinarily touching stories in here. For those of us who are librarians, who subscribe to an ethic of providing service and not passing judgments, this is a frustrating book. Steinberg never went to library school, he never worked in a library--although as a Harvard grad he certainly was familiar with the library's resources. In the prison setting, he finds himself faced with rules and regulations that severely impact his ability to provide traditional library service; he is required to distrust, to question, to doubt, and to view each patron as a potential problem. Somehow, he manages to maintain his humanity while bringing some humaneness to the job and to his patrons.

While the library part of the story is interesting, and gives us a glimpse of the inner workings of a system most of us hope never to encounter, it is in the role of Creative Writing teacher that Steinberg shines. The prison library is part of the Education Department mandated for prisons. So Steinberg's job description included teaching this class to inmates. His Harvard education stands him well here, because he has inmates reading Proust, Plata, Plath and writing, and writing, and writing. One inmate is writing his memoirs, another writes poetry, another a letter to her son. The ability to express themselves in these classes is often the only way many of them have to communicate what has been bottled up for a lifetime. His mentoring helps them unlace their tightly held emotions.

As I said, when I closed the book, I had to stop and take a deep breath. It was a powerful, deeply moving story- a view of librarianship that most of us will never experience. It is a VERY GOOD book. It is encouraging to know that such talented and feeling young people are coming into the work force. It helps those of us in our 'golden years' sleep more soundly. show less

I remember years ago seeing two photos side by side in the New York Times Magazine. One was of a dilapidated school library in a Boston Public school with peeling paint, worn carpet and mismatched furniture. The other was the library in the newly built Boston jail with matching furniture, more space and brighter. This book resonates with me. The inmates he writes about illustrates what happens to the children we throw away, who don't achieve for no fault of their own. But because of poverty, failing schools, and parents who do not or cannot care for them, they end up in prisons. Avi Steinberg points out: "All across America public libraries were, and are, being shut down, while prisons-with libraries- were and are, being built." show more Steinberg shares his experiences and his own background with the reader in a compassionate manner. He tells his story with such grace and kindness for the people he worked with, who are not always the most sympathetic. I look forward to reading his next book. show less

Well, I thought this would be better. The author lost major points by 1) calling Cleveland a 'wasteland,' and 2) referring to a library science degree with what could be contempt, but is probably just ignorance. An English major does not a Librarian make.

Even though I disliked the author's premise and assumptions (and at times tone), I did really like the characters in the book and how he describes their effect on him. The shining moment was the realization that he (and many others) had been glamorizing the pimp/ho dynamic when in reality it is an ugly, ugly thing.

As an unemployed Harvard graduate, Steinberg found himself taking a job as a librarian in a maximum-security prison. His memoir details his adjustment to prison life and the relationships he forms with the inmates. Steinberg quickly discovers that the library is a lifeline for inmates, and that intricate hierarchies dominate prison life. He finds himself involved in elaborate turn wars with some of the guards, and emotionally invested with the inmates.

Steinberg's tale is certainly humorous; that was clear from the opening line: "Pimps make the best librarians." The absurdities of Steinberg's clientele are on full display, but Steinberg is certainly sympathetic to his patrons. He goes to bat for the inmates on more than one occasion. show more Steinberg attempts to reunite a mother with her long-lost son, and helps another inmate plan for a future career as a chef.

For all the humor and humanity, this book does not shy away from the violent and dehumanizing elements of prison. Aside from the miseries and loneliness of prison, Steinberg discovers that the outside world has its own problems, as he reads about the deaths of released inmates in the newspaper. He is particularly saddened by the deaths of two inmates to whom he developed connections in the library and his writing classes. Ultimately the humor and the sadness are wrapped together; they are inseparable.

This is a well-done memoir written by an observant and sensitive man. I highly recommend it. show less