There’s a hush that falls over you when you step into the Boston Athenaeum, a feeling that’s hard to shake—like you’ve wandered into a sanctuary where time stands still. On October 9, 2025, a lone visitor was seen deep in thought among the winding shelves, surrounded by half a million books, many printed before his great-great-grandparents were even born, according to the Associated Press. That visitor, David Arsenault, describes the experience as handling museum artifacts. “It almost feels like you shouldn’t be able to take the books out of the building, it feels so special,” Arsenault told the AP, adding, “You do feel like, and in a lot of ways, you are, in a museum—but it’s a museum you get to not feel like you’re a visitor in all the time, but really a part of.”
The Boston Athenaeum is more than just a library. At over 200 years old, it’s one of only about 20 member-supported private libraries in the United States that date back to the 18th and 19th centuries, according to the AP. These institutions, known as athenaeums—a name borrowed from the Greek word meaning “temple of Athena”—predate the public library system that most Americans know today. They were originally built by merchants, doctors, writers, lawyers, and ministers who wanted to create not just a place for reading (then a luxury), but also a space for culture, debate, and community.
Walking through the Athenaeum, you’ll find fraying copies of Charles Dickens novels, Civil War-era biographies, and town genealogies—each with its own story, its own heartbeat. But the Athenaeum isn’t just about old books; it’s about the people who love them. “The whole institution is built around housing the books,” said Matt Burriesci, executive director of the Providence Athenaeum in Rhode Island, as quoted by the AP. “The people who come to this institution really appreciate just holding a book in their hands and reading it the old-fashioned way.”
That old-fashioned charm is part of what makes these libraries so special. The Providence Athenaeum, for example, is designed to mimic a Greek temple. Visitors climb cold granite steps and enter through a thick wooden door, finding themselves in a warm, inviting world filled with cozy reading nooks and even hidden desks for leaving secret messages to fellow patrons. “It’s the actual time capsule of people’s reading habits over 200 years,” Burriesci said, pointing to a first-edition copy of Little Women whose pages and spine proudly showcase years of being well read.
In Boston, the Athenaeum’s architecture is as much a draw as its books. The building features five gallery floors, spiral staircases, ornate busts of writers and historical figures, and wooden tables overlooked by book-lined pathways. Natural light streams in through large windows, offering views of one of Boston’s most historic cemeteries, where Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, and John Hancock are buried. “So many libraries were built to be functional—this library was built to inspire,” said John Buchtel, the Athenaeum’s curator of rare books and head of special collections, to the AP.
History is everywhere, but the Athenaeum is not stuck in the past. Alongside conservation work, the institution also uplifts modern creatives who may have been overlooked. Recently, the Boston Athenaeum co-debuted an exhibit by painter Allan Rohan Crite, who used his art to depict the joy of Black life in the city. This blend of old and new keeps the Athenaeum vibrant and relevant, serving as both a guardian of history and a platform for contemporary voices.
Of course, the Athenaeum’s treasures go beyond its architecture and atmosphere. It houses some of the nation’s most prized artifacts, including the largest collection from George Washington’s personal library at Mount Vernon. Visitors can spend hours getting lost in the stacks, following their curiosity wherever it leads. “We’re able to leave many of these things out for people to peruse, and I think people can often get curious about something and just follow their curiosity into things that they didn’t even know that they were going to be fascinated by,” said Leah Rosovsky, the Athenaeum’s executive director.
For much of their history, athenaeums were exclusive spaces reserved for the educated and the wealthy. But times have changed. Most athenaeums are now free or open to the public for day passes and tours, making them accessible to a much broader audience. At the Boston Athenaeum, memberships range from $17 to $42 a month, depending on age and whether the membership is shared with family members, according to the AP. But anyone can visit during community days or by purchasing a day pass.
Charlie Grantham, a wedding photographer and aspiring novelist, first discovered the Athenaeum on one of these community days. She describes it as “Boston’s best kept secret—an oasis in the middle of the city.” The space, she says, is “so peaceful. Even if I’m still working… doing things I’m stressed out about at home, when I’m here, there’s like a stillness about it and things feel more manageable, things feel enjoyable here.”
It’s not just about the books or the art or the architecture. For many, the Athenaeum is a safe haven—a place to work remotely, read, socialize, or simply enjoy a moment of quiet. “We do have a loneliness crisis,” said Jean Marie Procious, executive director of the Salem Athenaeum, to the AP. “And we want to encourage people to come and see us as a space to meet up with others and a safe environment that you’re not expected to buy a drink or buy a meal.”
That sense of community is woven into the fabric of these historic libraries. Patrons gather for games, discussions on James Joyce, or to research family history. Some come daily, others just for a special event or a quiet afternoon. But all are united by a love of books and a desire for connection—both to the past and to each other.
As the world hurtles ever faster into the digital age, places like the Boston Athenaeum and its counterparts across New England offer a rare and welcome respite. They remind us that history is alive, that stories matter, and that sometimes, the best way to move forward is to sit quietly with a good book in a beautiful room, surrounded by the echoes of those who came before.
