On y va pour se faire voir. This French phrase, which means “we go there to be seen,” refers to those who frequented the Opéra Garnier in the 20th century. These patrons wore their most exquisite accouterments, roaming around the theater boxes under the pretext of “watching opera” when, in fact, they were the true spectacle.
We guessed your first thought: “Wait, this actually sounds exactly like the Starr Reading Room in Sterling Library, here at Yale!” The two settings are completely identical, except for the fact that we find ourselves in New Haven instead of Paris, and that the French aristocracy is replaced by students, and that the “opéra” is nothing but the schoolwork that awaits.
Any time you step foot into Starr Reading Room, you will be faced with a crowd of students studying soundlessly. But, surrounded by your peers, ancient books, and magnificent decor, this library represents a lot more than elevating your intellect. In reality, the books receive minimal attention. The chandeliers, desk lamps, and wood carvings only get their 15 seconds of fame during the first two weeks of freshman year. After all, there’s only so many zoomed-in pictures of natural light streaming through the windows that one can take, and the initial two weeks of Starr enchantment are quickly followed by what seems to be a social game.
First, never (except under DIRE CIRCUMSTANCES) sit on the right-hand side of the room. Someone would only ever sit on the right side for one of two reasons: there’s no space on the left side (defeat) or you’re trying to avoid someone who is sitting on the left side (also defeat). Second, understand that students in Starr are dressed for the occasion. It is Sterling fashion week. The tables are optimally arranged to create a full-fledged catwalk on either side of the desks—perfect for students to walk back and forth, spreading their feathers like wild peacocks. Bonus points if you are listening to music to match your pace and to be mysterious. An intellectual mating ritual?
Everyone’s eyes are glued to the people who walk by, so you can be sure to draw a few glances as you make your way to the bathroom in the Poorvu Center, on the other side of Sterling. Back and forth people go as they find repeated excuses to strut their stuff. Oh look, my water bottle is looking quite empty! I guess I’ll have to walk to the water fountain. Is that an old gum wrapper at the bottom of my pocket that I have just noticed for the first time? It simply cannot remain in my bag for a single extra second! I must dispose of it immediately! I guess I’m walking to the trash can.
But a stage is nothing without an audience. The students in Starr perform for and observe each other, but they are also observed by the stream of visitors that pour into Sterling during touring season. They walk around, feigning profound interest in encyclopedias on monasticism and Finno-Ugric etymology. They stop to snap photos of the students, despite the “No film or videography without library permission” signs scattered across the library. They take as many pictures as they would of the Taj Mahal or the Statue of Liberty. New Haven–home to the 8th world wonder.
During finals week, the Starr air is heavy with a mixture of sweat and tears. Tables are littered with empty coffee cups, hopes, and dreams. The atmosphere is tense. Getting a seat, even on the right side, requires arrival at dawn. Students practically camp outside of Sterling, like crazed six-year-old children tenting outside of Target at the release of the newest, super special edition Stanley cup that is definitely completely different from all the other ones because it’s a slightly different shade of pink.
We managed to secure a left side, middle row seat, but it required hours of planning and a game plan that rivaled that of the Argentina’s football team in the 2022 World Cup. If you manage to get hold of a similar seat, you should consider yourself lucky, but don’t get too comfortable on that chair. Every second away from your seat is a second during which someone could rob you of your most prized possession. We recommend spreading your belongings across your desk to mark your territory.
Even if all of the above should be enough to steer us away from Starr, we still feel an unexplainable pull to its large stained glass windows and carpeted floor. We may plan our exit strategies, but somehow, Starr always keeps us in a chokehold until the clock strikes midnight. And if we’re especially unlucky, we make our way down the stairs to Bass, where parading is out of season and locking yourself in a cubicle is in style.
