Behind the Stacks

In the days before Lamont, when the Widener reading room resembled an intellectual YMCA, Radcliffe students surrounded a young man named Phillip McNiff like a band of suffragettes to petition for equal rights. The protests accomplished nothing, McNiff continued to chase the intruders away, and Radcliffe bulletin boards meekly rescinded their initial judgement by announcing: "Mr. McNiff is not an ogre."

At Harvard, where library services come under the category of inalienable rights, the job of directing Lamont as well as supervising the circulation and stacks of Widener is one that calls for skill and diplomacy. McNiff's skill in library science is a matter of record; his diplomacy evident to anyone who has stormed into his office to complain that Lamont doesn't subscribe to Virginia Gypsy Annual.

McNiff, who was graduated from Boston College and received his Master's in library science from Columbia, has made libraries his life work. He joined the staff of Widener in 1942, where he brought about many improvements to feet the influx of post-war students. The reserve book policy was liberalized, and many duplicates of popular books were provided.

His reputation lies with Lamont, however, which many library officials refer to as "McNiff's baby." As early as 1947, he was concerned with the architectural planning of Lamont and with selection of books. An undergraduate library within a university was then unique; there were no models to copy. Consequently, a good part of the library today can be traced to McNiff's influence--the open stack system, the variety of comfortable study spaces, and the numerous stalls.

As a result of his work in selecting books for the library, McNiff wrote the catalogue of Lamont, which was financed by the Carnegie Corporation and was the first book of its kind published since the 1930's. Today the catalogue is in demand by libraries throughout the country--even a few students buy it.

McNiff, a tall, graying man, is reluctant to talk of the position he occupies among professional librarians. A former president of the Massachusetts Library Association and a member of the Governor's Administrative Library Commission, McNiff is slipping early into the role of elder stateman among public and college librarians. As one member of his staff puts it, "There is a continual parade of people in here seeking his advice."

In fact, a person who can't talk about libraries would have difficulty conversing with Phillip McNiff. Associates often describe his mind as a gigantic card catalogue; certainly he has an uncanny memory for titles, authors, publishers, and dates.

A card catalogue is passive, however, and McNiff's 45 staff members attest to his endless activity. There is no job that he won't do, whether moving desks or checking out books. With an Irish temper concealed beneath a usually placid surface, McNiff expects--and usually gets--the maximum effort from his co-workers.

Although he anticipates no change for Lamont at present, McNiff would like to see a circulating record collection for the library. (He is an ardent fan of musicals). As for possible college expansion, he notes that the library is now at a comfortable level. "Of course, there were 1,000 more students in the college when Lamont opened," he says, "and I suppose we could take care of more now. However," McNiff warns, "Lamont is used as much today as it was in 1949 when we had the greater number of students."

Perhaps the outstanding characeristic of McNiff is his devotion to his work and the unassuming way he goes about it. McNiff is as helpful to students as to professors. The "open door policy" of his office is consistant with his personality.