Tullynally Castle in Co Westmeath has had a bookroom for nearly 300 years - and the oldest book in the collection is nearly 400 years old. Its owner, writer Thomas Pakenham, talks to Robert O'Byrne.

ONE novel in A Dance to the Music of Time, English writer Anthony Powell's 12-volume roman-fleuve, is called Books Do Furnish a Room.

The title comes to mind when standing in the library of Tullynally Castle, Co Westmeath, especially since the house's present owner Thomas Pakenham is nephew to Powell's wife.

If books were intended to furnish a room it would be within the library, although reading material at Tullynally is by no means confined to the one space - especially with the Pakenhams being such a literary clan.

Otherwise the library here meets all the requirements, even if it is larger, grander and older than most others in the country.

Every decent library must be able to exert a siren-like draw over anyone in the vicinity. In part this is due to the room's contents. Discovering those weighted bookshelves is akin to going to a party and meeting lots of old friends while meeting fascinating new ones.

But any library worthy of the name must also possess certain other characteristics. It needs to be snug, restful and inviting - after all who has ever wanted to read a book in discomfort? The books ought to be accessible, in every sense, otherwise a library risks becoming a mausoleum of literature.

Luckily, Tullynally's library satisfies every demand. Pakenham, whose family has lived here since the mid-17th century, says the room was finished in its present form around 1820 to the designs of architect Francis Johnston and his assistant James Shiel.

There had been a library of sorts before that date. Records show that a "bookroom" existed from 1740 onwards but when Johnston altered the house he greatly enlarged one room (taking a bay from its neighbour) to create a proper, well-fitted library.

And nothing could be more in keeping for such a room than the mahogany shelving that has ever since lined Tullynally's library. This is interrupted by a large early 19th century polished limestone chimney piece, above which hangs a portrait of Major General Sir Edward Pakenham, killed at the Battle of New Orleans in 1815.

Ample light is provided by three windows facing south-east and one in a south-west direction - all have embrasures with seats tempting anyone who settles there to read with the distraction of a view across the parkland outside.

While the windows have shutters, there's no evidence curtains were ever hung in the library, which unfortunately means that beyond immediate proximity to the fire it can feel quite a chilly room in mid-winter.

"If heating cost nothing, we'd use it all the time," says Pakenham.

Even the cold hasn't deterred him from becoming familiar with every book in the place. The entire collection of 6,000 volumes representing 2,000 titles has been meticulously catalogued so he can rapidly trace any work.

It's not the first time a complete survey of this kind has been undertaken - there still exists an inventory of Tullynally's books dating from 1790 and a second such index was compiled in the mid-19th century. "I could reconstruct the whole library as it was then and compare that with as it is now," Pakenham observes.

As with any good library, the books haven't been stuffed higgledy-piggledy into the shelves, nor grouped according to some fanciful scheme of colour or design.

Instead, quite correctly, they have been arranged together by area of interest such as biography; fiction; history; and the classics. The oldest book dates from 1617 and is a first-edition of Fynes Moryson's Itinerary, signed by the author to Baron Chichester of Belfast.

It's palpable that even the finest books in Tullynally's library have been assembled not for display but to be read and enjoyed - though they "furnish a room" they're not merely furniture.

Speaking of furniture, the library has just the right kind: deep and plentiful sofas; big armchairs; a sprinkling of lamp-bearing tables. The only other notable decoration is a set of handsome busts lining the top shelves in one corner of the room. Pre-dating the present library by more than half a century they represent what were then considered modern and ancient writers of note.

One such ancient, Cicero, wrote that a room without books "is like a body without a soul". In which case, Tullynally's library has a very noble soul indeed.