Survivor: London

Being an avid reader and writer, I love bookstores and libraries. I can confidently say that I knew my undergraduate library as well as any of the part-time student librarians. I wonder through the stacks like a grocery shop, aimlessly picking up anything that looks interesting or odd.

I was positively giddy when I found King’s College’s library resembles a castle equipped with its own black cast-iron gate and garden. The hundreds of steps to reach the postgraduate study cubbies in the tower didn't even faze me. To add to the excitement, I felt like I stepped into an Escher painting when entering the bookstore near University College London. The converted old building has crisscrossing stairs leading to very specialized sections.

The book list for ONE class could probably substitute for a winter jacket considering its thickness. Armed with that guide, I forged through the stacks at both the bookstore and the library.

Thinking I had electronically requested a title now out of print, I confidently marched up to the check-out desk at the library. “I’m sorry, we only have two copies and both have already been check-out. You are in the queue. There are people waiting for the book before you.”

Two copies! As an undergraduate, the library was only heavily visited around finals. King’s classes only started this week. My devious classmates snuck in and reserved copies before me. Flipping through the pages and pages of readings, I wondered if any of the books were actually available. We have reverted to academic scavengers fighting each other for scraps of knowledge and dissertation resources.

At the bookstore, I thought that I was just searching in the wrong section. Should I be looking in Current Affairs, Security Issues, International Development, War History, or the dozens of other sections within the politics area of the mega store? I notice a title on my list in the arms of a girl scanning the same section. “Excuse me, where did you find Civil War is Not a Stupid Thing?”

The girl glanced up from the lower shelf, and we recognized each other simultaneously. She is in my class (i.e. competition). “This is the only copy.”

She notices that I was clutching Global Governance and the New Wars. Before she can ask, I say, “Only copy.”

We chat about the difficulty of finding books and how the prices on Amazon are the same between the British and America sites and just the dollar and pound signs have been switched. As two of the only American girls in the class, we come up with a book sharing scheme (an alliance!) although we both put orders in for The Fragmentation of Afghanistan. Some resources cannot be shared.

It appears survival of my postgraduate education will take a lot more (resource) strategy than my undergraduate degree.