PHDFFT!

Scenario for a play in the style of the Theatre of the Absurd.

anonymous

Scene: A room in almost any library school of almost any university which has a doctoral program in librarianship. The cast, detailed below, sits before a small shrine labelled GOD - Good Old Days. On the shrine is a mystical anagram of great importance. It reads 1876, with no rubrication or historiation.

The cast: A number of TENURED OLD MEN and UNTENURED OLD WOMEN sit around a theoretical table on hypothetical chairs speaking of current library research and trends in libraries which they have read about first-hand. Some of them have not done any actual work in a library (academic, school, special OR public) for at least a decade. A smaller number have not worked for a great long time. They are considered venerable enshriners of the glorious past. It was glorious because in those golden years THEY worked in libraries, and because they were there, every problem was solved. Their dialogue consists of applying those solutions to present situations. A very small nuber never worked in libraries; they are the most honored.

At the fringe of the room is a less agéd group of persons who DO NOT HAVE TENURE yet and are, therefore, not quite respectable. Some of them have not worked in libraries for many years, so they, too, should have tenure. They direct bows and nods towards The Tenured, thus assuring their mutual importance.

Outside the room an occasional word may be heard from THE DOCTORAL STUDENTS. They should be identified as faceless numbers whose normal posture is continually changed to conform to the wishes of the inner-circle. The students' new posture is that of crawling over vast wastes to be allowed to speak to their Tenured Honored Lords. But they are rarely asked to address these important personages. Some of the high caste sit around and do research. Often, the faceless ones are permitted to do what is called "foot-work" research for the majestic folk. Others of the high caste would not think of doing anything but sitting around and pontificating. At the least, they believe they should work in papal libraries - as Pope.

First action: As the curtain lifts we see the members of the inner circle bowing to the East and saying the magical words: "At the University of Chicago . . . ." (In areas to the east of the center of the universe, the group bows to the West and intones the chant.) They also intone a prayer to return to the days of Harrison S.P. Jewett Dewey, the great, great, great grandfather of Melvil.

There is a vague, aching restlessness outside the room. This feeling slightly permeates the inner sanctum, or Upper Room, as it considered by those near the theoretical table. There are twelve or thirteen (the exact figure is in some doubt since this phase of the first ALA supper was never clearly spelled out in the ALLAH rules) sitting thus.

The argument: This is a medieval debate between those in the room and those outside. Those outside are heard but never listened to. Therefore, it is not a very profitable debate. The major thesis is this: how many doctoral students can be made to dance on the sharp end of a pin?

The prevailing attitudes inside the room, by those nearest the table, are:

• 1) Those outside are unworthy because they are only in the instituion due to having failed at something else.
• 2) Let's ruin those outside who may approach success by making sure they will never get this close to "respectability" again. We will destroy them by writing essays on their permanent records.
• 3) Why are they taking degrees here anyway? Very few of us took degrees in librarianship because it wasn't considered worthy as a subject. In those glorious days there weren't enough faculty anywhere (except for the central shrine at Chicago) to assure a degree could be given in many of the fields people wanted.
• 4) It must be understood the situation hasn't changed.

The conversation inside the room is largely a series of "NO's":

"No, we can't allow that."

"No, that is not acceptable as a field because we don't have a tenured person to teach it."

"No, it was not done that way in the past so it can't work now."

"No, we have too many women in the library schools now. With a little effort we can reform the profession and make it fully male - at least where it pays."

"No, we will not invite non-librarians to talk about Library Service to the People."

"No, we can't allow an attack on our hallowed institutions which were holy even before we were born."

"No, why train people to approach patrons as equals. After all, THE MACHINE will soon do everything."

"No, let's not decide." (A game called "Let them wait and worry.")

"No, don't let them escape. We had a hard time, so they should, too."

While this conversation floats out of the room to the faceless, moans can be heard and aspirations can be seen falling away into the pool of frustration which is forming from the tears of the doctoral students.

In a final burst of decision-making, it is decided that all programs in librarianship will be abolished at the doctoral level, and those inside the room will seek a fountain of eternal life so they will be able to go on "teaching" for eternity. In this way, they never need be replaced and may live in their hallowed halls forever. Outside, the faceless bodies fade and melt away, and the world goes on every much as it has since the beginning.

FINIS