Alien Space

A power plant, and plants (of the kind that one works in) in general, is not really designed to be a showcase. The building is durable out the wazoo, or else it would not be able to contain the machines inside. It is, quite obviously, useful; the building's entire existence is predicated upon its ability to do something for people (in our case, pump steam and some energy to the university). But, whatever one may think of the twin cigarettes always pushing out white clouds and the rest of its facade, the inside of the building does not delight the average man. Perhaps, a particularly excitable engineer of some sort, but not most people.

The trick is, the building really isn't intended for people. At least, not in the sense that the people who work there are why the building matters. Don't misunderstand me, the university would be in shambles if the building's employees decided not to show up tomorrow, but what really matters is the machines they keep in check. The boilers, turbines, burners, and other various instruments inside are why the building is here. They, after all, provide the utility of the building. We need them to power our university and keep our buildings warm.

The design, if one may call it that, of the power plant reflects that. Machines go where there is space for them, and if there is no space, old machines that no longer work are torn out to give them room. The building is navigable by unmarked "corridors" between machines and a spidering network of catwalks and stairs. People can maneuver about the building, but only to right where they need to be to fix something in the machines. On their breaks, and when they are done for the day, employees don't hang out in the pseudo-atrium wherein lie the main turbines. They go to their break rooms, or leave the building and go home, or whatever, into the human spaces carved out of the machines' domain. The building is not for people.

I'm sorry I couldn't take any pictures to demonstrate what I mean, so I'll instead try to explain by guiding you through the stacks of the Math Library, in Altgeld.

Altgeld, also known as Math Castle

Altgeld is a maze of a building. Legend has it that stepping through precisely the right doorways will immediately transport you to corresponding locations in similar buildings on other campuses in Illinois, such as Northern Illinois University or Illinois State or the like. In the middle, there is a post office, but many students find it simpler to just go to the post office further away, on Green Street, because they can never consistently figure out how to get to the Altgeld branch. A set of stairs on the second floor near the lecture hall leads directly to the basement, with no way to access the first floor save for a door with no mechanism to open it. The building feels extremely old. The basement reminds of the bowels of Memorial Stadium long before the DIA dreamed of renovations. The classrooms, for the most part, seem like they could be identical to ones people like Shahid Khan or Thomas Siebel took classes in thirty years ago. And yet, stepping into the Math Library, things begin to have order, especially in the stacks.

The entrance to the Math Library Stacks, behind the circulation desk.

The stacks are, as one might guess from the name, where the library houses their books. Or, at least, most of them; there are a few in other places, but if you come looking for the books your best bet is in the stacks. Just like in the power plant, the main goal of the stacks is to provide residence for the books. Access for people is secondary; yes, people will need to come and find books once in a while, and yes, you have to make sure the books are not being damaged in any way, but really the people coming in and out are not so important as the books themselves.

Books, the true residents of the library

To that end, shelves are crammed together as close as they can be to fit everything. The stairs are designed to take up as little space as possible while still allowing people to get up and down in the process of carrying things (probably more books). Shelves are designed around the great pillars strewn about the room to hold the weight of the lecture hall above. The floors are translucent, providing a surreal environment where light does not come from the sun (that is, from above). Everything about a trip through the stacks gives the message, "You are a stranger here."

The stacks feature tight spaces between shelves and tighter staircases

One doesn't spend time in the stacks if they can help it. There are microfilm readers and desks to sit down with books, but you aren't allowed to take bags of any sort in. If you want to take notes on a book you find, you either carry in everything you need by hand or bring the book back to the human realm of the reading room outside. The idea of the stacks is to hold books, nothing more and nothing less. It is designed with the books' best interests at heart; any human elements come secondary. Just like in the power plant, the space is not for humans. You may merely borrow it from its true residents from time to time.