The Class of ‘45 Library: A Symbol of Privilege and Exclusivity
Ella Mattson
I grew up in the charming New England town of Exeter, New Hampshire. Over the years, I’ve grown familiar with the symmetrical façade of colonial homes lining the historic downtown, set against the backdrop of the posh academic brick buildings of Phillips Exeter Academy (PEA). As a local public-school student, I envied the affluent students who had the privilege of attending the prestigious boarding school, with its campus resembling a small liberal arts college or a miniature Harvard. PEA even boasts an alumni list worthy of an Ivy League feeder, including Facebook-founder Mark Zuckerberg, U.S. President Franklin Pierce, and native local Dan Brown, author of The Davinci Code.
Yet, there is one particular building that continues to capture my attention…
Class of ‘45 library
Nestled in the heart of PEA’s campus, the Class of ‘45 library materializes into view—a stark cube of brick and concrete standing in solitude, isolated from the Georgian and Colonial Revival buildings that surround it. The modern brutalist structure feels out of place—detached from its environment, almost alien in its presence. The library is reclusive and uninviting, its severe, angular lines juxtaposing the welcoming white columns and uniform entrances of Exeter’s other academic buildings. Students, backpacks slung over their shoulders, file along the manicured pathways, funneling toward the imposing cube.
Stepping closer, the brutalist details become more pronounced. Clad in the same deep-red brick as the rest of the campus buildings, the exterior feels cold and manufactured. At times, the nine-story building seems excessive, even for one of the most prestigious of secondary schools—its towering presence shrouded in mystery and exclusivity. The recessed windows, sharply carved into the industrial exterior, deter outsiders from entering into the library—a paywall protected vault of knowledge.
Recessed windows
Kaleidoscope of geometric shapes
Once inside the atrium, the severity of the exterior is translated seamlessly into the library’s interior. The brick gives way to thick concrete walls durable for luxury “doomsday” bunkers—necessary for achieving the void-like circular cutouts that frame three stories of books. Each circular void is softened by wooden accents, providing warmth and contrast against the rigid, cold concrete. Looking up, one is met with a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of geometric shapes, crafted from the same concrete and teak wood. The space is bathed in a soft, natural light from above, creating the illusion that the ceiling stretches into infinity—an infinity of knowledge. Or, as the building’s designers put it— “the intellectual center of the community” (Phillips Exeter Academy).
Yet rather than symbolizing an expansion of knowledge or serving as, in PEA’s words, an intellectual “magnet for the curious and those with an affinity for discovery,” the library instead embodies an opulent display of wealth. Its design seems to deliberately reinforce the exclusivity of an institution where annual tuition hovers around $70,000, a silent but powerful reminder of privilege (Phillips Exeter Academy).
But how can a building be considered as a center for a community’s intellectuals when it caters only to a select few within an academic enclave that exists within a much larger population? While PEA accounts for its students, employees, and alumni—those who truly understand the building’s physical reality—it fails to recognize that they are not the only curious minds. There exists a social reality as well—one in which the library’s exclusivity is felt by those outside its walls.
Upon reflection, I’ve come to realize that PEA’s intended role of the Class of ‘45 library contradicts the role it actually plays today. This contradiction explains why the building continues to hold my attention. While its sheer scale might have evoked my initial intrigue, its societal implications have made that intrigue linger.
Author Paul Goldberger provides insight into my relationship with the library in his book Why Architecture Matters. Goldberger argues that “architecture is social as well as individual,” meaning the Class of ‘45 Library “exists in physical reality, [but] it exists in social reality, too” (15). Its presence extends far beyond its tangible existence.
Personally, I find the building to be a beautiful structure—well organized and true to its function as a library. If it were open to the public, I would undoubtedly spend hours weaving in and out of its bookshelves quite often. But that is precisely the issue: it is not open to the general public. I have always admired its grandeur, but only recently have I recognized its imposing presence. That presence has forced me to place the library into the context of social reality—understanding it was built for a specific purpose: to serve as a library for a private-secondary institution. It was never built with the intention to serve the broader community that coexists with its physical presence.
From my perspective, the library stands as a constant reminder of the wonderful opportunities that I will never experience—because one, I wasn’t a child prodigy, and two, my family couldn’t afford the tuition. This sense of unattainability fueled frustration and resentment for the boarding school—sentiments shared by many Exeter locals.
In fact, the Exeter community has a mutually shared sentiment of disdain for PEA. For some, distaste stems from the school’s staggering financial endowment of $1.6 billion; for others—including me—it’s the students’ notorious lack of pedestrian etiquette, particularly at crosswalks (Phillips Exeter Academy).
While our resentment may largely stem from the selective opportunities and privileges granted to attending students rather than the high-tax-paying citizens of Exeter, it is exacerbated by the apparent lack of interaction between the school and the town.
Whether due to the hefty price tag of attendance or the exclusive Exonian population, nothing better represents the contrasting narratives of the Exeter residents versus the *metaphorically speaking* gated community of PEA than the institution’s Class of ‘45 Library. When it opened its doors to students on November 16, 1971, it set a new record as the largest secondary-school library in the world (Phillips Exeter Academy). Designed by renowned architect Louis Kahn, the brutalist structure starkly contrasts with the classical limestone pillars of surrounding academic buildings, further alienating itself from the small-town feed of Exeter.
What should be a symbiotic relationship—a balance between the local community and the school—is instead marked by a sense of disconnection. The Class of ‘45 Library, in its grand yet detached existence, serves as a perpetual slap-in-the-face for local residents, a reminder of that divide. Physically, it resembles a fortress; socially, it functions as one too.
As Goldberger states, architecture has a dual nature—existing both physically and socially, “two people can experience a work of architecture as differently” (15). As PEA highly regards its library as the intellectual heart of the community, it’s clear that their experience remains within their narrowly defined enclave. In reality, the library serves as a true symbol of separation between accessibility and privilege. The cold, imposing walls not only merely house books and devices of knowledge, but they also reinforce a separation, a separation that creates an environment where wealth controls access to academic success and intellectual enrichment. If PEA truly believes the Class of ‘45 Library to be a symbol of intellectual minds and curiosity, it should start by acknowledging the broader community beyond its student body. For now, the library will continue to remain as it is—a product of architectural genius that will forever remain out of reach for those outside looking in.
Works Cited
Goldberger, Paul. Why Architecture Matters. New Haven, Conn.; London, Yale University Press, 2011.
Phillips Exeter Academy. “FACTs Brochure.” Issuu, 31 Oct. 2024, issuu.com/exeteradmissions/docs/pea_facts_2024-25_issuu_10.18.24. Accessed 2 Feb. 2025.
—. “The Class of 1945 Library – Phillips Exeter Academy.” Phillips Exeter Academy, 25 Oct. 2024, exeter.edu/about/our-campus/facilities/class-of-1945-library/.