The Good, The Bad, And The Sad

On the same day, I got a good Facebook message about a bookstore and I got a sad Facebook message about a bookstore.

The good Facebook message came from France: “Thank you, Douglas E. Schneider for the wonderful suggestion.”  My friends, before they left on vacation, had asked me what they should see in Paris. 

They were thanking me because I had suggested a bookstore: Shakespeare And Company at 37 Rue de la Bucherie.  I assumed that the bookstore had not changed since I had a good experience visiting it forty years ago --- and I was correct.

 

I had described Shakespeare And Company to my friends as a bookstore filled with the aura of the Beat Generation that hung out there.  When you step inside, you can almost believe that you are breathing the same air that William S. Burroughs breathed.

However, not all my bookstore experiences have been good.

When I lived in Seattle, there was a bookstore one block from where I worked.  On lunch break, I went over there to buy a book.  I stepped into the bookstore and saw a chill sweep over the staff.  A man had just entered their feminist bookstore.  I could feel the disdain as a clerk reluctantly sold me a book.  I thanked my lucky stars that the book I purchased was written by a woman.

When I visited Hong Kong, I entered a bookstore and was immediately entranced by the music they were playing: serene songs sung by an angelic choir of Chinese children.  I could swear that one of the songs was a subdued version of Oh, Susannah.

I pointed to the speakers in the ceiling and told the Hong Kong clerk that I wanted to buy the music that was playing.  He had no idea what I was talking about.  I tried charade mode; I tried speaking slowing; I tried speaking in elementary words.  Finally, the clerk understood and I got my music.  However ,the notes are in Chinese, so I cannot tell if that really was Oh, Susannah or not.

When I moved to London, I was excited to visit the world’s largest bookstore, called Foyle’s.  My excitement dissipated once I entered the store and found out that the entire bookstore was arranged by publisher.  I had no idea how to find a book.

There was a woman in one room who looked like she might be on the staff, but I wasn’t sure.  “Excuse me, are you a customer or do you work here?”

The woman turned her British eyes on me and replied, “What does it look like?”

I almost had a meltdown.  I almost said, “Lady, I am a foreigner here in your country and I am learning how to find my way around and now I am in a bookstore and I need help and I have no idea how to ask for help.”

I forgot what I really said to her.  I did get the book I wanted, but I never went back to Foyle’s.

The sad Facebook message came from St. Louis.  The Archive Bookstore announced: “We have reached the last page of our story. It was interesting, it was exciting, it was enriching, it was heartbreaking, and now it is over. Farewell to the good times, the good books, the good people who shared our story.”

The Archive was a used bookstore, which even had a resident Labrador retriever.  I once did a reading there from my book Puppy Out Of Breath. 

I am sad that The Archive closed.  But I know that the format of our reading material is changing and the way we purchase our reading material is changing.  Someday, saying ‘I went into a bookstore to buy a book’ will sound as quaint as saying ‘I went into a Western Union office to send a telegram’.

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Here is a 4-minute YouTube description of Shakespeare And Company:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JUpSR9fhQDM

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com