Bookshop Hunting in the UK

Marilyn Thiele

It’s an ongoing joke in our family that whenever I travel, the first thing I want to see in any new city is the bookshops. My husband and son accept, but do not understand, that someone who spends every working hour with books would seek them out on vacation. They don’t grasp that being with books all day is not work, but pleasure. The other aspects of running a business are a lot of work, but in other people’s shops I have only the delight and comfort of shelves upon shelves of books.

I realized why I seek out bookshops last week, on my second day in London. (The first had been spent recovering from an overnight flight.)  I had actually planned to purchase books this trip, not for myself, but for my son, who lives in London. I knew he would like the Lewis Man trilogy by Peter May, which I have been purchasing from the UK for my shop because only the first is available in the US, and that just in hardcover. My son has always appreciated my selections for him, but it seemed silly to carry books back to where they had originated. I asked him where I might find a bookshop close by, and he directed me to Waterstones in Trafalgar Square. Although I used to avoid chain bookstores, even they have my sympathy these days. As soon as I entered, I felt a sense of peace, of being at home, that dissipated the discomfort of an unfamiliar city. As I scanned the shelves looking for the books on my list, I had to resist the desire to grab everything, reminding myself that many of these volumes were in my own shop. Addiction is a powerful force!

I entered the store with the intent to purchase three books and rediscovered a marketing tool that was effective on even one who should be wary of it. The books I wanted were all “Buy one, get one half price.” Easy to justify four books, then. But I walked out with six, feeling I had resisted great temptation. My first sense of unease was at the checkout counter. A sign informed me that with the purchase of a certain amount, I could get a free K***** (that brand name e-reader which is becoming a generic term, to my dismay). Ouch! I chatted a bit with the clerk, since the store was not busy, and he ruefully admitted that Waterstones had had to make “a deal with the devil.” We commiserated about the state of bricks-and-mortar bookselling. Still, I felt my craving had been temporarily satisfied and that the world was a happier place.

After a visit to Lynne in Derbyshire, and a harrowing night of train delays, recounted in last week’s posts, we had a day of glorious sun and warm temperatures in Edinburgh. As we toured the city, I realized it was a lovely place to be not just because of the historic buildings and relief from the dreary weather, but also because it seemed there was a tiny bookshop in every nook and cranny of the ancient streets. Of course, I had to peak into each of them. I make it a practice to purchase something whenever I visit another independent bookshop, but could not because of the limits of what I could transport. My husband and son were valorous and successful in restraining me. It seems to me that Edinburgh is the last city bastion of small independents, some selling new, some used, and many offering antiquarian books. If the rest of the world continues on its path, I may have to retire there, despite the fact that I know I saw it on the one day a year of lovely weather.

On our return to London, I hoped to spend some time in the Bloomsbury area, where I have been told there is another outpost of small bookshops. We visited the British Museum, in the same part of the city, but it was pouring rain and I did not want to explore the side streets. I planned to check on the Internet to be sure shops still exist there, or whether they have been obliterated as quickly as so many others. The Internet at our hotel was not working (again) and my foray to Starbucks yielded only a brief connection to the outside world.  Word of mouth seemed to indicate, however, that there were not many small shops left in that area. I did hear about Hatchards, a three story independent near Picadilly Circus, but I could only push the family so far; I started hearing words like “intervention” and decided to go along with a boat trip on the Thames to Greenwich and a day trip to Canterbury.

Canterbury is a charming town of cobblestone streets and small shops and restaurants. After a lengthy visit to the cathedral, we wandered around taking in the pedestrian-friendly blocks off limits to cars. I realized that the town was geared to tourists like us just as it had been primed for the pilgrims of past centuries. There were not many bookshops, but I noticed other small independent establishments dealing in yarn for knitting or sewing fabric and notions. These, too, are a disappearing breed. There were a few, but not an overwhelming number, of worldwide chain stores here, but I would not be surprised to see more on my next trip. It seems that no matter where in the world you go, you can buy the same items from the same stores. Glasgow’s shopping didn’t offer me more than I could get in my local mall. As rents rise, only the big retailers can afford to be in certain areas, and the small shopkeeper is forced to close or move to a less traveled location. My focus is on bookshops, but I have seen many vendors of unusual or specialized items having to close because of high rents and low sales volumes.

I did not get to visit Hay-on-Wye, the town of bookshops, this trip, but hope to next time. Lorna Barrett’s Booktown Mysteries now seem to me to present a concept that I wish would become a reality in the US: a town devoted to bookshops of all kinds, where those of us still seeking a good browse among the paper artifacts can go for a pilgrimage. Perhaps the charming streets of Edinburgh will maintain their proliferation of shops; if the historic lanes are not bulldozed for larger commerce, there will be no desire for those specializing in acres of hand lotion and perfume to take over the tiny establishments and increase the rents. One can only hope.

All in all, it was a glorious holiday. Visiting with my son, seeing more of the endless history the UK has to offer, and just being away from the daily routine. I did come home, though, with a deeper concern than I had before about the future of the bookshop and small retailers in general, realizing that the changes are not unique to the US. Still, I am happy to return to my little corner of the world, and keep it going as long as I am able. And anxious to travel more before all I can see is generic merchandise.

Comments

[Jeff Cohen]

Nice to see you at the airport, Marilyn! Sorry I couldn't stop and chat longer!

[Marilyn Thiele]

Good to see you too. I understand you had a higher mission; I was sad from just having left my child, you anxious to see yours. I hope she had a fantastic experience!