Library Hotel

Hotel description

The Library is boutique hotel master Henry Kallan's latest creation. Steps away from the New York Public Library, this sixty-odd-room hotel is headquartered in a typically narrow, turn of the century building with terra cotta detailing and a copper bay window that extends down the length of the facade. It's arguably the best view of Madison Avenue. On a sunny day you can see clear down to Wall Street.

The hotel boasts a collection of close to 6,000 books — all courtesy of New York's premier used book store, The Strand — and floors are arranged according to the Dewey Decimal system: the religion floor, the philosophy floor, the general knowledge floor, and so on. The highlight in the lobby is an 1880 edition of the complete works of Shakespeare and the wall behind the reception desk is a card catalog. Each room, meanwhile, is a particular category, from Modern Literature to paranormal psychology. Of course, guests can request rooms. Neil Armstrong stayed in Astronomy. The most popular, predictably, is Erotic Literature.

The furniture at The Library is stylish, but even more importantly, it is excruciatingly comfortable. The banquettes in the reading room are soft leather, with cushions positioned to melt into your lower back. Rooms are small but comfortable, with crepe bed coverings, champagne wallpaper and frosted glass panels. The bathrooms have deep tubs and weathered green granite floors that won't freeze your bare feet. The Poetry Terrace/Writer's Den is a thoughtful public space — the Terrace enclosed in glass with potted plants, the Den a leather-seated parlor where the fireplace springs to life with a touch of the remote control.

The Library is that rare find in New York — a hotel free of attitude. The staff is particularly warm — the manager drinks wine with the guests in the evening, the receptionist smiles at you, and the doorman will run three blocks to get you a cab. The only worry at the Library is the case of the disappearing books. Some mysteriously turn up in other rooms (Casanova's memoirs ending up in the Zoology suite) — perhaps the result of some late night intellectual tête-à-tête, or perhaps some guests have taken the term “check out” very literally indeed.