This month, Travel + Leisure magazine is running an article naming what they consider to be the
best bookstores in America. They chose some absolute gems--I've been to half of the 14 shops they picked, in cities as diverse as Miami, San Francisco, Denver, and DC (local favorite
Politics and Prose is featured!). Overall, it was a solid lineup, although it's shocking that
the Strand in New York City didn't make the cut and that the authors overlooked Boston altogether. Still, I love that a magazine aimed at travel chose to focus on indie bookstores. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes to me.
Nothing against national chain bookstores--they fill a need, and I spend more time in Barnes & Noble than most. But they offer a cookie-cutter shopping experience from one end of the country to the other. Almost all Barnes & Nobles share the same off-yellow walls, green carpet, dark brown shelves, orange and white signs, and scent of Starbucks coffee wafting over from the cafe. Except for the content of the Local History shelf, you'd be hard pressed to tell whether you were in Minnesota or Louisiana. It's great if you're just looking for a book, but if you're out of town, there's no special reason to seek one out because the one in the city you're visiting will be just like the one at home.
But if you were dropped blindfolded into an independent bookstore somewhere in the country, you could probably make a pretty good guess about where you were. Great indies are the furthest thing from interchangeable--their atmosphere, stock, clientele, and sellers are all precisely suited to that specific place. If independent bookstores aren't intimately attuned to their communities, they don't survive.
For me, poking through an unfamiliar city's flagship indie book haunt can be as illuminating as exploring its museums and landmarks. If you want to meet Portland, Oregon, it's fine to visit its famous rose garden (with other out-of-towners), but you'll gain a lot more insight about why that community is special if you go to
Powell's, get lost in the rooms, and spend a few minutes chatting with the bookseller in your favorite department. That bookstore might be my favorite city block on Planet Earth, but it just wouldn't be possible to run someplace like that in DC. Powell's store is almost 70,000 square feet and has more than a million volumes, which is far beyond what DC is capable of supporting, despite the fact that the two cities are almost exactly the same size. That says something cool and interesting about Portland, don't you think?
You can get a sense of place by trying to put your finger on what makes each one of these stores unique. Our beloved shops in Washington--
Politics and Prose and
Kramerbooks--are only a fraction of the size of Powell's, but they offer exceptionally extensive collections of current affairs, policy, and history. P&P's clientele is noticeably older than the indies in most other cities, and there are way more suited-up after-work types in DC. Even though DC has a thriving arts community, a store like New York's
Rizzoli Bookstore, which specializes in high-end design, art, photography, and foreign-language collections, would never survive here.
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| Rizzoli Bookstore, New York City |
Last year, I was chatting with the bookseller ringing me up at
Housing Works, a fantastic used bookstore in New York City. He noticed that I had bought something from the
New York Review Books reissue series and mentioned that he hadn't yet encountered a book in that series that he hadn't loved. I said that I generally agreed, except that I hadn't enjoyed one in particular called
My Dog Tulip by J.R. Ackerley. Incredibly, he had read it too. !!! That would never have happened in DC, at least when it comes to literary fiction that doesn't show up on a bestseller list. Political biographies, sure, but not a six decade-old, treacly essay by a gay British journalist about how much he loved his ill-behaved German Shepherd. In my 20 years in DC, nothing like that has ever happened. I think that says something cool and interesting about New York.
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| Housing Works, New York City |
In any case, I have to applaud T+L for turning people on to some wonderful shops. If it were my list, I would have added these places:
Idlewild Books in New York City, near Union Square. Idlewild is a tiny jewel. It's a beautifully curated second-floor shop dedicated exclusively to travel reading--it's my own personal nirvana. :) They shelve all their books according to destination, so if you're planning a trip (or are just fantasizing about one) to Switzerland or South Africa or El Salvador, you'll find the guidebooks grouped with nonfiction and novels relevant to each area. Every item in the store is lovingly handpicked, and the staff know the books inside and out. It might be the only bookstore I've ever visited where I could close my eyes, pull any book off the shelf at random, and always end up with something I'm interested in reading.
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| Harvard Book Store, Cambridge, Massachusetts |
Harvard Book Store in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I love it when bookstores sell both new and used books, like Harvard Book Store does. Best of both worlds, right? They've got a terrific selection of new books upstairs, and downstairs they have an extensive selection of remaindered books, many from university presses, as well as a large collection of interesting used books. One thing about Cambridge--the people there are
readers, and its used bookstores are treasure troves. Because of all the universities around, you really never know what you'll find. I just wish they had a little more room so that they could sell you a cup of coffee and let you relax at a table with a stack of possibilities before making final purchase decisions. But it's Boston and people want their Dunkin' Donuts coffee anyway, I guess. :)
McNally Jackson in New York. Another NYC bookstore that has it all: great selection, cool ambiance, knowledgeable staff, a serviceable cafe, and seats scattered throughout so you can take a load off and make purchasing decisions in a leisurely fashion. Like Idlewild, McNally Jackson shelves its fiction according to the nationality of the author, which is fun if you're interested in modern Germany, say, or are looking for your next big fat Russian novel.
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| Strand Bookstore, New York |
The Strand. I'm dumbfounded that this wasn't on T+L's list. "18 Miles of new, used, and rare books. Since 1927." In Manhattan, for crying out loud. Really, what else needs to be said?
What did T+L and I miss? What are your favorite bookstores? Share your favorites in the comments below!