At the center of the financial tug-of-war between athletics and academics is one looming figure: Troy H. Middleton Library. As the football facilities are continually remodeled with their bottomless pool of funding, many have called for the complete demolition of Middleton to make room for a more modern library.
Despite how strongly I believe that academics should be prioritized over athletics, I am opposed to this idea. The truth is that I actually…like old, outdated, musty-smelling Middleton Library.
At only 62 years old, Middleton Library is far from being a truly old building, at least not in the same sense as the Parthenon or the Pyramids of Giza. It’s not even the oldest building on the University campus—that title goes to the 97-year-old Dairy Barn. Yet as a heavily trafficked hub of student life and knowledge, it wears its age more prominently than most LSU buildings.
Every corner of the library breathes with the lives of past students. The heavily graffitied desks of the 3rd and 4th floors are stratigraphic testaments to the generations of students before me who have desperately crammed for finals, and the narrow book-packed shelves represent the accrued stories of the University, human history and imagination.
Middleton’s age makes it inviting in a way that most cold, impassive modern buildings are not. Its weathered, knowing, sometimes chaotic vibe comforts me as I enter and settle before a computer to work and study. Based on the number of students I often see studying around me in Middleton, I’m sure many other LSU students feel the same way.
Despite the aesthetic charms of Middleton, I recognize that it needs some structural changes in the interest of health and safety. Many ceiling tiles show signs of water damage, and students with respiratory problems can never stay long on the top floors. In 2019, a Reveille article revealed that Middleton “needs $400,000 to replace asbestos flooring on the first floor by the stacks.”
I’ve always felt there was something special in the air at Middleton, but I’d rather it not be microscopic cancer-causing fibers. These necessary renovations can be made without tearing down the entire library, which would not only keep Middleton mostly in its current state, but would save the University money and avoid the dysfunction of temporarily running a university without a library.
I hope that the University will soon make the needed repairs to the Titan of the quad so that the unique charm of Middleton can be preserved for years to come. There is just no other indoor spot on campus that rivals a desk by a window on the 4th floor, basking in the aerial view of the quad’s oak trees as the smell of old books wafts past you.
Cécile Girard is a 20-year-old psychology sophomore from Lake Charles, Louisiana.