On one of my rare jaunts past the few square blocks of this city that are my usual domain, I walked downtown to take another look at the progress of the new Seattle Public Library, designed by Rem Koolhaus. Its full mass is now complete. Much of its diamond-shaped external metal girding is now in place, covering the building's odd jutting angles.

I can't say I like the thing. But then, I suppose that's part of the point. It isn't a building that wants to be liked or admired in any traditional sense. It doesn't try to present itself as anything recognizable. It isn't a box. It isn't a tower. It isn't anything libraries have often been in the past. Unlike so many libraries, the building does not attempt to be in any way monumental or inspiring.

Libraries are basically just warehouses with work rooms. There was a period in the 70s and 80s when some of them were built to look like that and not much else. (Odegaard on the UW campus is one of the better examples of a simple warehouse style.) But there's often been a conflicting desire to make a library look important. Many of the Carnegie libraries I've seen from the turn of the century were dolled up in the architectural jewelry of a Roman or Greek temple. That religious theme seemed popular with library designers. The grand Suzallo Library that is the centerpiece of the UW campus is gothic and majestic. One expects to meet an Anglican deacon at the doorway.

The Vancouver Public Library recently built by our neighbors (make that neighbours) to the north is unquestionably monumental. Not content with mere temple references, the architect gave readers a massive coliseum for reading.

Koolhaus will have none of that. His building does not suggest anything beyond itself. It looks like it will certainly generate questions even beyond the standard "What'ell is that thing?". But it isn't designed to offer an easy answer. It is what it is, but refuses to reveal any deeper meaning through decorative suggestion.

Because it is so intent on being an enclosure and little else, the final judgement on the library can't be made until it's open and functioning as a library. Does it work? Does it feel right as a library? Can one do the various things one expects to be able to do in a library? Will its variegated massive glass veneers caged in tight diamonds of steel make it seem open to the city or will the cage appear as a dangerous, dark trap?

Those questions don't matter so much to those who design a library as a symbol and monument. If one is pleased by -- or even better, inspired by -- a grand library building without stepping foot into it, then the architect has done his or her job even if the place is a disaster of inefficiency inside. But Koolhaus offers only the inside without trying to inspire from the outside. That is a tough task.