Carrel scribblings raise the spirits of gloomy seniors

But some carrels prove far less ominous than they appear on the exterior. Within the cramped spaces, relics of occupants who turned in their theses long ago remain in the form of pictures and quotes.

The desperate cry of one of these past occupants, “Ich bin so bored,” is inscribed over and over again on the wall of philosophy major Sarah Weinstein ’08’s carrel. Despite being surrounded by the dreary captions, Weinstein enjoys glancing at the musings of those who were once in her situation.

“They cheer up the place,” she said. “Without it ... it’s impersonal and cold.”

“I think [the graffiti] is to be expected when you’re stuck in this place,” ecology and evolutionary biology major Amadea Britton ’08 said. Her carrel is adorned with a portrait of a poodle drawn on the wall in permanent marker.

Britton also noticed tiny pin marks on the wall, which she said were probably made by past seniors simply poking holes with their pens. She said that she won’t add anything “incriminating,” but may poke a few holes herself as she writes her thesis on antibiotic resistance.

This graffiti, however, has no place in the carrels, Firestone Library access officer April Miller said. “The janitors clean them every summer.”

That fact notwithstanding, however, Will Ellerbe ’08 discovered William Blake’s poem “Eternity” etched into his carrel’s bulletin board. “He who binds himself to a joy, Doth the winged life destroy. He who kisses the joy as it flies, Lives in eternity’s sunrise,” reads the poem, which Ellerbe — an English major writing his thesis on William Shakespeare — said he found “inspirational.”

Ellerbe said that he is considering leaving behind his own mark, if he can find a good quote, adding that “there’s a lot of quotable stuff [in Shakespeare].”

He also found initials of a prior occupant and a line that said, ironically, “I hate graffiti.”

While the writing in Ellerbe’s carrel created a positive atmosphere, other seniors haven’t had quite the same experience. On the wall of Liz Bergold ’08’s carrel is an official University dedication to a deceased couple, calling the carrel a “token of their blood, sweat, and tears.”

“It’s kind of creepy,” Bergold said.

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Life in a blue metal box

Though she had heard of other seniors discovering artifacts from their carrels’ former inhabitants, English major Melissa Whitley ’08’s carrel — one of Firestone’s typical locker-like boxes with a few shelves for books and a small tabletop — didn’t contain any such mementos.

Whitley initially didn’t apply for a carrel, fearing that being confined to the bowels of Firestone might interfere with her work. “It’s like a dungeon,” she said. “I’m writing about poetry, and I didn’t think I could get inspired here,” she explained.

Now, however, she spends on average five hours a day in the carrel, in which she stores a sleeping bag and a mug. “I had to buckle down,” she said. “Also, I have so many books that it was difficult to cart them in bags.”

Ellerbe said that the carrel becomes stuffy after a while but added that occupants of the B-floor carrels have banded together to form “a community of people who are all going through the same thing.” Many carrel-dwellers even leave their doors open while working, both for ventilation and social interaction.

Miller said that the carrels have probably been there since Firestone was completed in 1948. Plans for renovating the carrels are a part of the master plan for Firestone released last year, she added, and the carrels received a good deal of attention from the focus groups involved in the planning process.

Most Firestone carrels hold two people, though some hold up to seven, and other types of carrel are located in several other academic buildings and libraries.

Seniors can sign up for a carrel with friends or be randomly assigned to one. Graduate students in their final year and faculty members also get preference when carrel assignments are made.

Despite the carrels’ stuffiness, space constraints and despondent writings of seniors who graduated long ago, “the biggest complaint,” Miller said, “is that there are only two outlets [total for both occupants], so if you plug your desk lamp in, you can’t plug in your computer.”