English Bookshops

Oh how wonderful they are! I have vivid memories of trolling through several in Oxford and London and Cambridge. [One of my favorites was Blackwell in Oxford.] Getting lost in the stacks of new books or old. The Penguin paperback was usually what I could afford but in the out-of-the-way used book shops perhaps my best, most regularly opened find to this day is a small, portable copy of The Oxford English Dictionary. It is hardbound and about 3x4" and an inch thick with that beautiful rich blue binding. Compared to the multi-volumed edition of the OED, it is probably as condensed as their dictionaries come.

Speaking of blue bindings, one of my most treasured possessions is a small leather bound journal from Smythson of Bond Street, stationers to the Queen. Elizabeth Yates McGreal gave it to me: it is a blue leather blank book in a light blue box with the thinnest of light blue lined paper and gold on the edging. I have never used it as it is so precious! How could I possibly put anything of substance in it? [My journals of choice for many years were the unlined black hardbound sketch books that you could pick up at any art supply store.] My very first real journal, another gift from Elizabeth, was actually a red hardbound day planner, also from England and I believe for the year 1978, and I recorded something on every day of that year. Someday I need to revisit these journals--soon.

Of course then there is Marks & Co in London, immortalized in Helene Hanff's book 84, Charing Cross Road, of actual letters spanning two decades, between an English antiquarian book seller and an American woman seeking special books across the Atlantic. [The author did not visit the site of the bookshop until 1973. Her book came out in 1970 and Frank Doel died in 1968 and the shop had closed. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, while fictional, has reminded me of Hanff's classic--another one to reread and probably better appreciate years after having read it the first time. Like Hanff, I have never been to the shop, either.]

Early on in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, and in his very first letter to her, Dawsey Adams writes to Juliet Ashton to inquire if she might know of the name and address of a bookshop in London so that he might acquire more books on Charles Lamb. Being on an island, he likely had no idea what offerings there were available to him in that city.

In response, Jane answers:

Because there is nothing I would rather do than rummage through bookshops, I went at once to Hasting & Sons upon receiving your letter. I have gone to them for years, always finding the one book I wanted--and then three more I hadn't known I'd wanted.

Haven't we all had this experience? Perhaps the best and most regular experiences in that realm for me have been at The Toadstool in Peterborough, New Hampshire for the past thirty years, owned by Willard and Holly Williams who are true bibliophiles. This, from a letter from Jane to her editor Sidney, would seem to describe the plight--and delight--of an independent bookseller:

I love seeing the bookshops and meeting the booksellers--booksellers really are a special breed. No one in their right mind would take up clerking in a bookstore for the salary, and no one in his right mind would want to own one--the margin of profit is too small. So, it has to be a love of readers and reading that makes them do it--along with first dibs on the new books.

The bookshop amble that Dawsey requested would be replaced today, most likely, by a quick check on Amazon or ALibris. Imagine the fun of a Guernsey--or any island--resident ordering up books and things from the internet to be delivered in a package over the sea. It still can not replace the visceral and tactile experience of roaming through dusty, crammed used bookshops, just as the Amazon "Kindle" can not replace a real book.

In another letter to Sidney, Jane confesses that she left her fiancé over a matter concerning her books. On the afternoon before their wedding, he carefully boxed her books into eight boxes from her shelves--intended for the basement--and replaced them with his own athletic trophies and awards for "every game that could possibly be played with a wooden object," etc.

How dare you! What have you DONE?! Put my books back!

Fortunately for Jane, she realized before any wedding transpired that they didn't have much in common anyway. She also noted the irony that had she allowed him to box up the books and put them in the basement, she would not have lost them in a London wartime air strike. But, one can assume, she would have been in an unhappy marriage had she consented to have her books taken to the cellar in the first place.

I am one of these people who likes to have her books around her (forget wits about me--books will suffice). Currently in boxes, I have books I will likely not see for several years and favorites and "soon-to-reads" and reliable standbys all in boxes awaiting temporary shelving of their own (one of the hazards of leaving a house with many built-in bookshelves). Like Jane, I would feel the pain and anger if my books were being boxed up without my permission and yet I can relate, somewhat, to that experience as most of my books are now in boxes. A disconcerting place to be in and I will feel a lot better when I can see most of their bindings again. In the meantime, those in storage, will be like opening boxes of delightful gifts in a few more years. Or finding long lost friends or acquaintances that you hope to know a bit better.

xoDella

PS I have found a perfectly delightful used bookstore in Berea, Kentucky, Robie & Robie Fine Books, which really deserves its own blog entry but this will do for now. They are not only a fine quality bookstore, with a few selected new books, but they organize their categories by author or subject so books are easy to find. Excellent groupings of Kentucky authors, children's books and cookbook sections, also. Another great reason to visit Berea from time to time! Come on down, Cupcakes!