An esteemed academic once shocked me by stating that Amazon had made second-hand bookshops obsolete.
We were at a conference in Edinburgh, and I’d happened to show him the swag I’d picked up from Armchair Books that day (biographies of Maurice Chevalier, Robert Mitchum and John Ford, in case you were wondering!). I argued the point with him and I’m pleased to say he conceded. Still, I’ve never really trusted him, or his work, since.
I’ve spent a good deal of my life browsing the shelves of second-hand bookshops looking for treasures. As a child, I was an omnivorous collector. I’d constantly be seeking that elusive edition that would complete a set of Enid Blytons, or for the photographic covers depicting Ian Carmichael as Bertie Wooster. I was a Sherlock Holmes completist and, at one time, I would buy any edition of Conan Doyle’s stories that I could lay my hands on. I must have had 50 variants of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes alone.
That desire to accumulate has died somewhat, partly due to living in a small flat. Still, I’m an inveterate book-browser and my eye always strays to certain sections of a shop first. These days, I always hit the ‘Crime’ section first, on the lookout for Ross Macdonald paperbacks with interesting covers! What I said to that wrong-headed academic still stands – the second-hand bookshop always surprises you, leading you to unexpected places and enriching you in a way that a search engine simply cannot.
Bookshop owners are experts, labouring for the love of their wares. I’ve met some Bernard Blacks in my time, but the majority love to chat about your purchase or point you in the direction of something special. For me, browsing has always been as socially stimulating as it is intellectually.
Given all this, I’ve always been disappointed (and a little ashamed) that my town, Leamington Spa, hasn’t had a second-hand bookshop. There used to be two: the wonderfully titled Books Do Furnish a Room (where I once got some bound Strand Magazines containing The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes for £7) and the fondly remembered Portland Books. Both closed down years ago, and they left a void. Waterstones and Oxfam Books just don’t count.
So I was overjoyed when I discovered that Garrett Books had opened up on Clemens Street. Roisin and I have visited a couple of times, and I’ve taken a friend there as well. I’ve never walked away empty-handed, and most excitingly of all, they have a very well-stocked comics section which has added a few gems to my collection!
What’s clear is that Garrett Books have a real interest in becoming part of the community. Inside the door, they’ve set aside space for local artists to display their work and there are plans to hold poetry readings and possibly gigs there too. They’ve got a couple of sofas for you to relax upon, and they serve tea, coffee and cake so you can refresh yourself after a browsing session. Most winningly of all, there’s a baked potato stand out front. I had one last time I was there and it was delicious (cheese, beans and Peri-Peri sauce, YUM!).
I’m so pleased to see them there and I hope they prosper. Leamington needs a place like Garrett Books and Clemens Street really benefits from their presence. Long may they last. I’ll see you down there next weekend for a spud, alright?
I do love a rummage in a second hand book shop, I also love the smell of second hand books. There is a second hand book seller at work, people donate their books, she sells them and the money goes to guide dogs for the blind and I buy no end of books from her. As you say, second hand books lead you down unexpected paths and I don’t think I’d have ever read a Stephen King apart from the fact that she had a stash of them… long live the second hand book shop I say!
I know what you mean about the smell of books, it’s something I love too! And you’re absolutely right, rummaging is very satisfying, especially when you find an unexpected treat. Like you, I’ve discovered authors quite by accident, who’ve gone on to become firm favourites. The Guide Dogs bookseller is a great idea!
I loved reading this. It’s such a shame but second hand bookstores in Malaysia are just a mish-mash of junk that people no longer want, and they pretty much closed down a few months after they open. You’re right about getting something interesting – I found some ahem, Who novels in fantastic condition that I couldn’t resist getting, just because.
It’s such a shame that no one looks at second hand bookstores in Malaysia the same way you do. Most of our bookstores are brand new (I can’t think of any second hand ones anymore) – the best being my favourite, Kinokuniya. If only they were as prolific, books wouldn’t be so expensive here. The average book here is RM 30 onwards (about 6 pounds, but about 3 times the cost of an average meal in KL) – there’s just not much of a reading habit here at all.
Hi Adlina, thanks for commenting! It’s interesting that you mention (ahem!) Who novels. They were published here in paperback by Target and when I was a teenager, I acquired most of them for about 25p a pop. Now they’re seen as collectable and go for £5-£10 each. Stupidly, a few years back I gave my collection away (I was going through a pretentious “I’m too grown-up for these now” phase) – I couldn’t afford to start collecting them again!
Although prices are rising, I certainly think books are less culturally valued over here even in the few years since I was growing up. Bookshops are closing all the time, which is why it’s nice to see a new one open up down the road from me. I was really struck by how different it is in Paris, where books are EVERYWHERE!
I’m with the ‘esteemed academic’ I’m afraid. I find any shopping a tiresome experience and anything that adds efficiency to the process is more than welcome.
It is very rare that I would find a book through random browsing as I tend to discover titles through reading other books or media such as radio or magazines. No bookshop can compete with the selection of Amazon’s second hand market place – I recently found a copy of an obscure Horror novel that had been out of print for twenty years. It would have been impossible to source this locally. It is useful to note that the retailer on the other end of this transaction was a small independent and without Amazon he would never have been able to make the sale.
Books themselves are sacred objects and I love the having, holding and collecting of them, but I care not a jot for how they are purchased.
In response to your point to Adlina, one way of measuring the cultural value of books to the UK is to look at the number of books we publish each year compared to other countries.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Books_published_per_country_per_year
The book loving French produce 17% of the UK’s output! It is not a myth that the UK is literary nation and it is something about our culture that I think we should be very proud.
I suppose I’m so attached to the ritual of browsing that it’s become entirely bound up with my experience of having, holding and collecting. You’re quite right, of course – Amazon marketplace sellers have become indispensable and for speedy and efficient shopping, there’s nothing better. But then I think our relationship to that particular aspect of book buying is quite different: I’m happy to spend an hour in a bookshop and leave empty-handed, just for the opportunity to amble around the shelves. I imagine you’d find that pretty tiresome!
I do think that exploring the space of a bookshop is utterly different to finding books online. You were looking for the twenty-year old horror, or you were led to it through a connected title. I like the unpredictability of the bargain shelf!
You’ve called me out on the UK-France comparison, and rightly so. I reckon I was taken in by all those bookstalls on the Seine! Just because bookshops are disappearing, that doesn’t mean we’re valuing books less as a nation. As you say, we are a literary nation (underlined by Adlina’s comment) and I hope it stays that way.