Recently,
I wrote about Bookshop Memories, George
Orwell’s essay about his experience working in a second-hand bookshop in London
in the 1930s. Seventy years later it
seems some things, at least, have not changed. Steerforth, who blogs at The Age of Uncertainty, describes his considerably longer tenure at a branch of Waterstone’s bookstore
in a suburb of London. It is reassuring
to read, that now, as in Orwell’s time, book shops appear to continue as havens
for eccentrics who can spend as much time as they wish among books.
The
evolution of celebrity authors has undeniably added a a gloss of glitz to the atmosphere
of many shops where their appearances draw crowds of fans. (Within the last
year, while strolling down Fifth Avenue, we encountered gaggles of tearful girls
who had just left a Justin Bieber signing at a Barnes & Noble branch.) But
even in this environment, a spirit of democratic openness (or benign indifference)
on the part of booksellers seems to persist. At a recent reading at another
Barnes and Noble branch, a woman seated behind me appeared to be a regular attendee
at these events, enjoying the company of other book lovers and the sociability
of a night at the store without caring much about the specific topic or author. “Who is it tonight?” she asked a neighbor. “Last
night’s reader was late and I had to go home.”
One of the things I miss about NYC are the B&N readings, even though I only attended a few a year. I saw so many memorable authors - DFW, Roddy Doyle, Doris Lessing, Gore Vidal, many others.
ReplyDeleteRe Bieber, I can only imagine the crowd at a bookstore in my area, or worse, a couple of hours away in London, Ontario. Bieber sneezes and it makes headlines here.
Hey, look at this.
ReplyDeleteI know :). In my sparetime I run a laundromat!
ReplyDeleteI just noticed I can reach your blog with or without the blogspot.com domain. Are you using a custom domain now?! All that plus a laundromat! I'm impressed!
ReplyDelete