Marks & Co., London
Years ago, I stumbled across Helene Hanff’s 84, Charing Cross Road, a record of the correspondence between Helene, a snarky Manhattan writer, and Frank Doel, acquirer of rare editions at an antiquarian bookstore named Marks & Co., in England. I fell instantly in love: with Frank, Helene, and the dusty, jumbled bookstore, itself a tangible character in the story. The tale was later turned into a play and then a movie, starring Anne Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins, which is perfect to watch on a gray winter afternoon, under a cozy blanket with chocolate and coffee–and a cat or two.
Bookstores like that one, or the fictional Flourish and Blotts shop in the Harry Potter series, are now too often the settings in novels rather than addresses on a real map. I prefer old-school books with creaky spines and pages marked with notes in the margins over the shiny, precise Kindles and Nooks with pages that turn with an elegant swipe rather than a lick of the finger and a leftward toss. New is popular. Bookstores now have less tolerance for lingering over leathery used volumes. Covers must be eye-catching and colorful, the newest and freshest within a few steps of the entrance. After a few short weeks, the shelves are swept clean and their contents tossed onto the “clearance” pile, to make way for the even-newer to serve the waning attention span of the modern American.
The lure of the corner book store is irresistible. Whether it’s a cookie cutter chain store or a mysteries-only shop with a resident cat languidly posed across the Dick Francis shelf, the smell of print-on-page and the potential of all those uncracked spines is a siren’s call of temptation for people like me. The best bookstores have managed to maintain an atmosphere that caters to lovers of books, without too much peripheral merchandising. I’ve been in a few that I’d consider national treasures.
There’s the Tattered Cover in Denver, an enormous indie bookstore open for over 40 years. It has overstuffed chairs that beckon you to stay and read a chapter or two of a new or used volume. I discovered this piece of heaven in college. Sadly, they refused to let me use it as my dorm room.
I wandered for hours through Powell’s in Portland, Oregon, which takes up a city block and has a charming children’s section.
In my neck of the woods, co-owned by bestselling author Ann Patchett and publishing veteran Karen Hayes, Parnassus is nestled in a small corner in a bustling area of Nashville. It’s an independent jewel of a bookstore that hosts a steady stream of author events for its community of book lovers. Adding to its charm and personality, you likely will be greeted by one of many of the store’s shop dogs.
A friend recommended The Strand Bookstore on the corner of 12th and Broad in Manhattan. On a rainy day visit, I dashed inside and browsed 
clear through lunch, marveling at the rare titles and unique categories in the eclectic atmosphere. Good thing I had a subway ride back to the hotel, which limited the number of bags I could reasonably carry with me.
When we were first married, my husband and I haunted the famous Davis-Kidd Booksellers every weekend in Knoxville until it closed. It became our favorite date night. It was dangerously just down the street from our first apartment and it threatened to ruin us financially. Rent or books? Groceries or books? It’s not always as clear-cut as you might imagine!
The common denominator of these bookstore royalty is the personal connection they all strive for, whether they take up several stories on a city block, or they’re in a tight corner in an overlooked alleyway. It is so easy today to remain isolated, with books arriving at your doorstep via a credit card and mouse click. At bookstores like these, if you’re a regular, the staff knows your tastes and can recommend reads they know you’ll love. You can chat with other bibliophiles who rave about something they’ve just read because it’s just that good, not necessarily because it has the right ranking or the right reviewers. You can meet authors and tell them how their words changed you.
The antique booksellers at 84, Charing Cross Road have long gone, and the location has housed many things since; a wine shop, a restaurant, and currently a McDonald’s (blasphemy)! Fortunately, the truth of the story remains. The impact a simple bookstore and its gentle owners can have on a person runs deep, spanning decades and continents. In a letter to her friend in 1969, Helene wrote: “If you happen to pass by 84, Charing Cross Road, kiss it for me! I owe it that much.” I know the feeling.
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How dare they not let you use it as a dorm!!!
There is nothing like going into a bookstore and browsing and browsing. I will purchase from an online store, if it’s a book not easily found, but otherwise, the real deal for me all the way.
Your bookstores sound wonderful. I think someone should do city tours of bookstores…
Sandie, city tours of bookstores–that would be a great topic for a cool travel book. Get started on that, will ya?
I love antique book shops. The ambience is so different than a commercial one.
I love when shops have a resident dog or cat in them! As for a wonderful store of new and used books, we have Haslam’s (http://www.haslams.com/). It’s in St. Petersburg (Florida) across the bay from where I live in Tampa. It’s been around since 1933 and I hope it never goes away.
My brother lives there! I’ll have to alert his wife to Haslam’s, or maybe save it for my next visit. Thanks for the tip!
I loved 84, Charing Cross Road, too. Read it so many years ago. And I want to visit The Strand Bookstore in NYC when I visit again. I love independent bookshops best, but sometimes a trip to Barnes & Noble works as well. Especially at night if I have no real plans and want to feel part of a group, as I drink coffee and watch everyone on their computers and pretend we are all friends working on our books. Yes, sometimes I need a life! Great post, Bonnie.
Oh, I love 84, Charing Cross Road! Fabulous book. I read it one sitting while hanging in a chair hammock suspended from a tree in my backyard. Fabulous book. And I love your descriptions of these iconic bookstores across America. Every bookstore should have a few good book dogs. Long live indie bookstores!
What wonderful examples! That reminds me of a fabulous used-book shop in the French Quarter of New Orleans that I used to frequent every time I visited. I can’t remember the name, but I loved its low ceilings, crooked floor, and mismatched shelves…and the resident cat, Boudreau, who’d bring you his cat toy and demand to be played with while you tried to browse. That was many years ago, and I found myself worried about Boudreau–and the bookstore–during Hurricane Katrina. It had that much of an impact.
Ooh, it sounds perfect! I’d have loved to have wandered in and made friends with the feisty Boudreau!
A whole city block? That’s incredible. I was recently in Dublin, in a pretty big store, but that would still be dwarfed in comparison. And yes, when telling Julie about my fantasy bookstore, I completely forgot to say it should have a dog. Or cat. Or parrot, even.
Thanks for the nudge to read 84, Charing Cross Road. I don’t think I have but am adding it to the list immediately.
Pauline, you will LOVE 84, Charing Cross Road. Move it up on your TBR list. It’s a slim book and one you will cherish. A classic!