The place was in its usual state of disarray: volumes were scattered everywhere, in random fashion, though the senior page, Melvil Dewey, was running through the stacks, trying to order the shelves according to his own Dewey Decimal classification scheme. I’d watched him work many times before. As soon as he put a book in its proper spot, the volume would either pop out onto the floor or shift with others of its kind, as if each book stack was an elaborate tile game. With the possessed volumes deciding on their own where they were going to reside, Dewey’s efforts were futile.
