For a small book, it is surprisingly thick. The pages are so many that the little red volume is almost wider than it is tall; it is a wonder that the spine has not snapped in two. Perhaps, it is intact because it has not been read in a while: the book is 111 years old.
Published in 1908, The Revolt in Hindustan (1857-59), by Sir Ewelyn Wood is one of the rarer books in Connemara Library’s collection. There are others, older and even more striking. One is an attempt at understanding A Grammar of The High Dialect of The Tamil Language Called Centamil , published in 1822. Another is the first book ever to have been published in Tamil — a doctrine in Christianity by missionaries. Once a year, the older wing of the library throws open its doors to the public, letting them glance at these treasures. And once a year, those who remember using those grand halls as functional spaces of knowledge, not nostalgia, relive some memories of their own.
A Govindaraju recalls frequenting it at will in 1952, to peruse The Illustrated Weekly of India , an iconic news magazine that documented happenings around the country from 1800 to the early 1990s. “It was the only magazine that covered the entire country. A parallel to The Illustrated London News , which was a pioneer,” he says, before embarking on a nostalgia-induced reverie.
“I used to sit at this exact spot. I remember this pillar and this round table,” he says, pointing to a comparatively newer (post-1850) little wing on the first floor. It is flanked by a wall with high stained glass windows on one side, and a wooden railing between carved pillars on the other, that offers an extended view of the floor below. The view of the floor is essential to the design of this little wing, and to another similar one that faces it from across the expanse. They were both built as viewing galleries, back when this building was a performance venue — one of the first such spaces in British Madras.
This was sometime between the 1850s and the 1880s. The building has seen different uses: Public Assembly rooms in 1789, the Collectors cutchery in 1830, Central Museum in 1854. It was as a museum that the building was given an upper floor with additional wings. “With every step of addition, newer and more intricate details were added,” says Thirupurasundari Sevvel, architect planner associated with the social history group Nam Veedu, Nam Oor, Nam Kadhai. It is Thirupurasundari who takes Chennaiites on a tour of the old library when it opens, giving them an understanding of its wide past. “What we see now, is the building with later additions that are intricate and detailed; such as the stained glass, or the teak finishes, or the wooden brackets in the Chambers. It has gone through four different usages or purposes, and elements have been added during each,” she says.
So Connemara — now shut once again — remains a stronghold not only of knowledge in the literal, published sense, but also of the architectural traits inherent to different decades across time. What makes it even more precious, according to Thirupurasundari, is the fact that none of these traits clash with each other. “Each addition was the result of careful planning: it was important to the architect and contractor that it blended well with what was already there.” There’s a lesson in that as well. “It is an important part of Madras and a landmark that Chennai should be proud of,” she says.