Books about books.

Currently reading.

A well written book about the history of books, publishing, bookselling, and Buzbee's love of books. Laugh out loud funny in places, and alway interesting.

Bookray

Erishkigal (UT)
6of8 (MD) (Int'l)
lils74 (Nepal)(Int'l)
sarabe1 (Sweden) (EU)
ApoloniaX (Germany) (EU)
babydoll857 (UK)
lucy-lemon (UK)
cally-c (UK)
The original ray is completed and is now on a journey of the reader's choosing

Usual rules of bookrings applies here -- if at all possible read within 30 days of receipt, PM the next in line for address, and get it off pronto. Last person who gets it may do with it as they wish.

On its way to Utah.

This arrived in Monday's mail; I've been swamped with last minute changes/repairs/dressing for "Oliver" but now it's open, and I'm done till I get the frantic "We broke X, last night!" call.
So I'l get started on the bookshop~~thanks for including me!

See me writing on my virtual blackboard? I must write 100 times : I have been a bad bookcrosser; I will not be a bad bookcrosser again. I have been a bad bookcrosser: I will not be a bad bookcrosser again. I have been.......

My apologies all, for holding up this gem of a book~~ I am sorry.

I found the book much too delicious to race through. Instead, I read bit by bit, allowing the book to send me rambling into my own memories of books and bookstores.
And no, I didn't take this long in the reading, I only meant to set it aside till my show was up and I had time to write a thorough journal. But we all know about the road of good intentions....and now I've taken so longer that I no longer remember what I wanted to comment on....

With one exception. I spent a couple of decades in and around Bisbee, Arizona, an old copper mining town turned artist colony. Quirky and unconventional, it was the perfect place for Walter Swan to open his One Book Bookshop. What a character Walter was! And I still have a copy of “me 'n henry.” And for more of this, you'll have to await Buzbee's telling :-)

I'll have this in the mail Mon. or Tues.

edited to add it went out on Tues, Dec. 7th

This book was waiting for me when I got back from visiting my family over Christmas, but I was unable to get it journalled until today. In the meantime, I have read it and thoroughly enjoyed it.

I felt a bond with the author when he mentioned books that he enjoyed in elementary school, ordered from the Weekly Reader, including Follow My Leader (which I probably read 50 times at that age) and the Encyclopedia Brown series. I agreed with his friend who advised him that the most important influence in creating a literate child is the presence of books in the home and parents who read, regardless of the genre. And when he spoke of the joy he got as a publishing rep, sharing a book he loved with staff of the stores he visited by comping them a free copy, I thought he would definitely approve of Book Crossing.

Also had to agree with his idea that every citizen should have to perform 2 years of mandatory retail service, because it would make people behave better. Two Christmases in the toy department during the Power Rangers craze have certainly had an impact on my shopping behavior.

I did think it was interesting that, while he addressed some of the early developments of e-books like Nook and Kindle, the book predated the recent popularity of those gadgets. However, as a fellow book lover, I have to believe that real books will always have an important place in our world, no matter how popular electric books become.

I will pop this in the mail to lils74 in Nepal as soon as I get her address.

Off to Nepal to lils74. US Post Office said it should take about 7 to 10 days to get there -- hope they are right.

I found this in my mailbox this morning, and while having lunch already read a few pages. Am loving the concept already--real, live books are my thing, and I just LOVE bookstores! Thanks for sending it, 6of8, along with the BC labels AND a surprise book! So kind of you!

Oh my goodness, I am only 43 pages in but just have to rave to someone! This is such a fantastic book--makes me want to be a BAD Bookcrosser and hide it under my pillow for good! (Don't worry, only joking ;)!) Seriously though, it's just amazing how the author manages to capture the perfect warm, cozy way I feel about books!

Posted this on, day before yesterday, to Sarabe1, from the UK where I'm visiting at the moment.
Oh what a fantastic book! I really feel enriched for having read it. I learned so much about the history of the printed page and what has brought us to where we are, as well as the history of the booksellers themselves and their trade, past and present. It has actually affected the way I feel about books and bookstores and booksellers in general, I've realized over the last few days as I pop in and out of the bookstores here in London. I find myself remembering lines from the book, and it's certainly given me a great appreciation for the people behind the stores I have always loved. A great, great book. Thank you for letting me participate in this ring, it was fantastic.

Looking forward to reading this!

Unfortunately, this book didn't give me very much. I do love books and book shops, but found this memoir full of cliches and rather boring...
It will be on its way to Germany as soon as I get ApoloniaX's address, and I hope you'll like it better!

Received this in the mail today. Thanks, sarabe1. And thanks for hosting this ray, Secretariat.
Will start reading this weekend.

A book by a booklover, written for other booklovers, about books and booksellers...
BookCrossers' delight :-)
My mind kept wandering away... to books I read as a child and as a grown-up, bookstores I've been to... there's so much in this book that the reader will relate to, and then all those little pieces of information, about the history of bookselling, about publishers, reading habits, printing...
A lovely read, recommendable!
ETA May 1: Still no answer to my PMs to babydoll857 and her profile doesn't say anything about being on holiday, so I asked lucy-lemon for her address.

In the meantime I got both babydoll857's (who had moved house and thus didn't have broadband for a while) and lucy-lemon's address. Sending the book to babydoll857 now (lucy-lemon will be on holiday by mid May anyway).

Received in the post. I look forward to reading this. Thank you.

I really enjoyed this book - it is as someone else has already said a Bookcrosser's delight! As so many people have raved about it I was pondering what I found to be its shortcomings and I would say that the historical sections are definitely its strongpoints for me. The anecdotal stuff about the author's experiences in bookshops comes across as a little humourless and rambling. A sterner editor would have been a bonus I think. I do think this may also be a cultural thing - being from the UK rather than the US I wonder if we take anything as seriously as Mr. Buzbee seems to! However, I read an American book by a librarian about his experiences and it was absolutely crazy so maybe it's just Mr. Buzbee's personality!

I have made notes on the bookshops around the world which he highlights at the back though with the intention to visit them if I'm ever there. So maybe I DO take bookshops as seriously as he does!

Apologies - this arrived last week & I forgot to 'catch' it.
Thank you for sending & including me in this ray, I'll read it asap.

I loved reading this, it took me right back to my days working in a bookshop.
Thanks for including me in this ray.

Sent to Annimanni as part of the wishlist tag game.

The book arrived safely in Finland, thank you very much!

This was just as enjoyable as I thought it would be :) I particularly enjoyed the stories of Buzbee's personal experiences with books and bookstores. Recommended reading for all bookcrossers!

Next off to kirjakko as part of the Finnish wishlist tag game.

On its way to kirjakko.

(Beautiful title and cover, by the way.)

And finally today the book reached me. Looks like my kind of book as I have worked in a bookshop and I turn into a shopaholic almost always when I enter one. Great Britain is truly the greatest bookshopping country: I've roamed around from Hay-On-Wye to Wigtown, putting my nose in every Oxfam shop and jumble-sale in between...
Looking forward to reading this. Lovely to see that so many familiar "faces" have already been at it! Hi guys!

Where have you sat, Little Book, for almost four long years? Actually nowadays the days are long and years short - and the book piles high!
I am merely on page 34, but I have to say that people who come to kill time at a bookstore for hours on end, reading the books and not having the slightest intention of buying anything, aren't really the kind of readers bookshop keepers like. I remember when Cafe Aalto was built in the Academic Bookstore - the staff hated the idea. It took up precious space from books and surely it meant that people would take books there and spill coffee and whatnot on them. It would encourage people to read books in the shop and not buy them. I don't know if the sign is still there, but there used to be one which said you can't take books you haven't purchased into the cafeteria area.
Buzbee liked the shop he worked at best in early mornings, before customers came. I'm not a morning-person, so my favourite time was in the evening, when customers had left - it was calm and quiet and dust was settling in again. The Academic Bookstore was at that time the biggest bookshop in Europe title-wise. We were proud of it and the staff was encouraged to read, read and read some more. We were allowed to lend books from the shop as you sell better if you know the product. We felt superior to the competing chain 'Suomalainen Kirjakauppa' ('The Finnish Bookshop') where the staff wasn't into books, they sold them like nails or apples. Customers came in and told how they had asked for 'War and Peace' at Suomalainen and they were asked: "Who is it by?" They bought bulks of popular titles and their prices were lower. They didn't have as much variety, the didn't have the knowledgeable staff, they didn't have the service - but they are the ones that a thriving today (30+ years later), have a shop in each town (The Academic Bookstore used to have a shop in every university city, not anymore) whereas The Academic Bookstore first sold its best windows to Starbucks and last October the whole shop was sold to a Swedish publisher, Bonniers. Bonniers came in with a big broom and dusted out people who had worked there for over thirty years. So sad, but luckily I was there when the going was still good.
Like ApoloniaX said, mind keeps wondering off to shops, books, clients, childhood and what not when reading this. Even if I was a trained bookshop keeper I had never realized, before reading BC journal entries, how a book is not read the same way by two people - or even by the same reader in a different time - because it is not only the story in the book we experience, it is all those memories and connections our brain processes when we read.

Childhood memories:
My parents and older brothers read to me as I wasn't to learn to read before I went to school. All my brothers had been able to read and they were more or less pain in teachers' rectum area as they were bored at school. Winnie-The-Pooh, Wind in the Willows, Pippi Longstocking, Moomins... all the usual stuff. Although Moomins are actually fairy-tales for adults.
Father had connections to publishing houses, so books came in parcels, I don't really remember going to bookshops as a kid. But parcels came often and we picked what we liked and the rest were sold or given away as presents. I did have a library card, although there was not much need for libraries. I borrowed some Blytons and some horse stories when I was at the 'book-a-day' age. I did have problems returning the books, though.
I read a book about a family living in the Helsinki Zoo, as the father run the zoo. I pestered my parents for not being zookeepers and they tried to make me value what we had - somebody would we happy with all these books.
"Stupid books, anyone can have books, but why can't you be zookeepers and I could have a tiger cub or a baby monkey at home??"

More early memories:
For some reason as a kid I liked to read the same books time and again. Beginning a new book was always an Effort, reading those I knew was like returning home. So for great many years I read the Hound of the Baskervilles as my train read at the beginning of summer holiday. We didn't have a car, so we travelled by train and taxi to our summer cottage, which was in the middle of a forest with no inside loo or running water. No telly either, but luckily our landlord had one + girls my age, so I mainly ate and slept at home, otherwise I was somewhere with the girls.
But I so remember those train trips, as we entertained ourselves by counting cows we saw from the train window - and there were plenty back then - and by reading. No iPads or other gadgets.

I did like Sherlock Holmes and then came Agatha Christie. I think I've read all her books, many of them more than once. Cozy mysteries, nothing too violent or gruesome. That came later in the form of 'all the Holocaust books' I could lay my hands on. Many people I know have had the same urge sometime in their youth and like me, when they've had enough, they hardly ever pick a book of that subject. What would Freud have said? Well, actually he would have been very sad, as he lost all those family members who remained in the occupied Europe. His sisters were over 80 years old and the were taken to the camps. Some managed to emigrate to Canada, I think. It's all told in the Freud Museum in Hampstead, London, in the house where Freud spent his last years as a refugee.

I didn't read Freud, but rather young found all those great animal stories. Buzbee mentions Jacques Cousteau and I, too, have a copy of his Silent World. Family Adamson should not be mixt up with the Addam's Family. The Adamsons had Elsa, the lioness, and Pippa, the gepard. Then there was Jane Goodall and her chimps and Gerald Durrell and his family. And then of course came Mr Herriot, MRCVS. There was no return......

My tablet's battery went flat last night and now I have scribbled down a long list of bookish things that have popped into my head all because of this little book. You want to hear them? I'll tell them anyhow...
About my Academic career (in the bookstore, that is. The closest I've gotten to higher education was when I crossed the bridge from Windsor and walked down to see Eton): For some reason unknown to everybody I was placed in Linguistics and Schoolbooks. The only foreign language I spoke was English, so most of the time I wished clients would only ask what time it was, cause I had no idea what was in the language books - I didn't even know what their titles meant. We only had one Arabic textbook, so I felt pretty confident when I showed it to the man who wanted one. "Miss, you are holding it upside down!" As often as I could I ventured to the next department, Animals & Nature, where I sold dog books to my heart's content. Why do I tell this? Because the retail-thing 6of8 mentioned. There is hardly anything worse than Schoolbook dept. when schools are about to begin. Pupils get free books from school between classes 1-9. When they enter high school, they have to buy books themselves. It is amazing how many students leave it to the last day, although they've gotten those lists months ahead. Most of them do not have the lists anymore. They do not understand that not all schools use the same books. For their religion-lectures they want a book with Jesus hanging on the cross. I'm afraid that is not very original, I think three books met with that criteria. A biology book with a plant and an animal on the cover? Rightie-o. It takes ages to guess which books they need. And they are not alone. They have brought their parents along. Or sent just the parents. And there are hundreds of these students there. And they all want your help. I've got the scars to prove it.

I was kidnapped to the countryside without my book, as my workmate's car needed urgent care and her four dogs urgent transportation. So all I can do is reminiscent.
Of great bookstores there is one I fell in love with in 1985 when I found Helene Hannf's 84 Charring Cross Road. I loved writing letters, so I can well imagine how it all came about. Nowadays, when everything is sent as e-mails, there won't be that much left of our thoughts - thanks to the delete button. What a shop, what a client, what a story!

And if you haven't read Helene Hanff - do so NOW.

Okay, hope that I don't confuse anyone by chiming in here. I just wanted to say how much I have enjoyed getting the entries from kirjakko over the last few days. I have found them every bit as fun to read as the book itself.

Thank you, 6of8, I was afraid you came back to tell me to shut up and give the book away😉! I don't write diaries anymore and letters to only three other dodos. Judging by my older relatives my family name should be Alzheimer (even a hotel receptionist in Ireland thought so this May, as I got my room key with a card saying my name was Alzheimer!), so I've decided to write down things that come to mind when reading a book - then I can always come back to these pages and see what has happened to me.
If for once I comment something that was actually said in the book (and not merely in mi silly head): Already in 1650 a Cambridge Professor said that Oxford students learn more sitting in a coffee house than attending to their more formal studies. Nothing has changed in 350 years (this is me again) as Stephen Fry wrote in his memoir that he attended three lectures during his Oxford years. He mentioned two by name and said he can't remember the third, but he is sure there was one more.

This book has become very dear to me. Literally. I was fined 60€ today because of it. I was reading it for so long in the morning that I was going to be late for work. I needed to pick something up on my way there and I thought I'd win some minutes by parking right in front of the door, although parking is not encouraged there - actually it's forbidden - but I'd just be in and out in a jiffy. How the ticket got there before I was back I can't imagine - "It's a kind of Magic." And all because of this book and 6of8's JE which needed my immediate commenting.

By the way, I've been writing these JEs on my tablet, which keeps changing words and spelling. For the worse. I wouldn't mind if great literature poured out, but no such luck. I hope you don't get a new e-mail each time I find an error.

I haven't finished the book yet - nearly there - but I have something like 19 bookish things I still want to comment here (I've written them down). The battery of this thing is low again and I need to hang the laundry, so feel free to do something else, this might take a while. I am about to tell you about my visits to the modern Shakespeare & Co in Paris and to Another Country in Berlin.

I first travelled to Paris in 1986 on an interrail ticket. I was meaning to go through Europe straight to Britain, like I had done on my previous interrail trip two years earlier. This time my eldest brother and his family lived on the outskirts of Paris (Le Vesinet) and my brother number three and his girlfriend were interrailing there as well, so Mum persuaded me to travel with them and go to Britain from there. I agreed, although Britain was where my heart laid (and still lays).
We arrived to Paris Gare de Nord (main railway station) and went to the tourist info. NOBODY spoke English!!! Hello! This is your capital, this is where all Europian trains come and you do not speak English. You look bored and lift your shoulders.
There was a heat-wave and the workers of all public transportations were on strike. I said I would take the next train to the coast and leave this godforsaken country, but I was persuaded to come and see my relatives having come this far. This was before cell phones, but my sister-in-law was at home and said my brother would pick us up on his way home from work in the evening. So we HAD TO spend the day on the hot streets of Paris and we walked to Notre Dame. There my brother's girlfriend Alice said she'd like to find Shakespeare & Co. It took some searching and has done so each and every time I've been there. I don't know why I have a blind spot for that shop, I circle round and round and then suddenly it's there.
Well, at least they spoke English there and had English books, so it was ok. We saw books crammed from floor to cealing and an elderly guy keeping the shop and later I've realized that I've bought books from the famous George Whitman, who came to Paris from America and opened this shop in 1951 (Le Mistral it was called then, Shakespeare & Co from 1964 onwards in honour of Sylvia Beach, the owner of the original Shakespeare & Co). I didn't know the shop was that special before I read Jeremy Mercher's 'Books, Baguettes and Bedbugs', where he told how poor and often alcoholic writers lived in the shop for a week or some years and worked for their upkeep. How many of the broader shelves were actually turned into bunks in the evening. A very good book, if you are looking for something to read.
George got a daughter at the age of 68 (it's easier for guys) and Sylvia keeps the shop today. George died at the age of 98 in 2011. He can be seen in many entertaining videoclips in the YouTube. Having seen the kitchen of Shakespeare & Co on the film I am amazed that he lived that long. He was also rather carefree with fire, you can see how he had a "haircut" in his shop by lighting up his hair. When it was of desired leanght he tapped his head until the flames died.
Buzbee loves Paris. I have to say my first impression was not that rosy. We spent the following day in Versailles, which was on route to my brother's work place, but the heat and strike continued and I had had enough of the French for 16 years. I had vowed never to return, but it's best never say never. In 2002 a client of ours won a long weekend for two in any European capital and as the European Winner Dog Show was held in Paris that year, Paris it was. Her boyfriend had just walked out on her and I had presumably succeeded once in my life in customer service, as she asked me to go along. The French had picked some English during those 16 years, there were no strikes and Paris was actually quite nice. Found also a nice Canadian bookshop in the Latin Quarters. But I do not agree with Buzbee: Paris is not the book capital of the world. I think that must be London Town, where in Charring Cross Road you literally just zigzag across the street and move from one bookshop to another. And bookshops are plentiful elsewhere in London as well.
Our clients (different from that previous one) have a liking of Paris (and us) and we got an invitation to a birthday party in Moulin Rouge in - probably 2011. We had to pay for the trip there, but they offered us a Paris-by-night ride in 40-year-old Renaults and an evening in Moulin Rouge. You just can't say no to an offer like that (17 other guests had thought likewise). As luck would have it, my workmate's brother had just been posted in Paris a month before and we stayed at his flat near Trocadero in the 16th arr.
Moulin Rouge was ok, but once in a lifetime was enough. The dancers were skinny professionals and I'm not a man, so I don't know if women with smaller breasts than those of the male dancers' are worth all that fuss.
But I got another chance to visit Shakespeare & Co and this time I knew my Mercher and had a look at the shop through new eyes. Now I was able to spot the bunks and there was a piano upstairs where two young American girls were playing four-handedly just for fun when their Mom was bookhunting and wow, they were talented. They hadn't noticed that in the end they had quite an audience.
Many of the books had a stamp saying "not for sale", as some books you can only read in the shop and some you can also borrow - something you would not expect to find in a bookSHOP.
Duty calls. Will continue with Another Country, Germany.

In 2014 a friend of mine turned 50 and she wanted to spend a week in Berlin in May with her three best friends. You wonder what I was doing there, but there I was. I had found "Meet a Greeter" service from the net already for one of my visits to Paris and it had been a great success. In many big cities there are volunteers, who are not professional guides, but people who know their neighbourhood well and have time to walk around with tourists and tell good stories. No more than six persons in a group, usually for two hours. Free of charge.
Michael was our Berlin Greeter, a 60+ gentleman, who had asked very thoroughly about our interests and with German precision gave us maps where bookshops with English titles or yarn shops with all colours of the rainbow (there were two nutty knitters in our group) were well marked, as were everything else we liked. Those places we could visit on our own time and Michael gave us a four-hour-tour around the 'most important places' in Berlin following our wishes (Berlin during the Wall and Jewish Berlin during WW2 (the birthday girl being married to a jew)). It was +34 C degrees and I thought I was going to die. We did have a stop for lemonade and another for lunch (our treat for Michael, who was working overtime).
"How can it be this hot", we were wondering and Michael said:
"It iz mai revenge!"
"Peg-a-pardon?" [Finnish pronunciation for "I beg your pardon"].
Michael slowly pulled an A4-size picture out of his briefcase. It was him standing in the middle of the Senate Square in Helsinki. His face was blue and he had a new winter-coat. Sleeth was flying horizontally.
"It iz me in Helsinki too veeks ago."
Indeed, we had had a rather cold spell in May. The group had come on a cruise ship in their spring clothes. It was a Sunday and shops opened first at noon.
"Ve veer freezing! Mr Stockmann (a department store) opened hiz zop at tvelve. I bought a vintercoat."
We were walking in the charming old area of Kreuzberg where the tour finally ended and Michael pointed a bookshop to me. My friends wanted to have a cold beer and I went to see Another Country.

It was a colourful, yet somewhat shabby shop. A few rooms of books upstairs, with lots of chairs and some sofas. And books with colour codes instead of prices. The meaning of the colours was explained on the wall. Some books were marked "For lending only".
Downstairs were lots of coffee tables with a bottle in the middle of each, with a stump of real candle sticking out. Empty beer bottles, boxfuls of them. Massive drinking had taken place here. Some more books and a really hag of a large woman sitting there, looking as if it was not one of her best days. A bit scary, to tell the truth. I returned upstairs.
I found a few books which were indeed for sale and gave them to the not-very-German looking girl behind the counter. It turned out she was an Italian trainee and this was her third week at the shop and in Berlin. She said she was very lucky having gotten the job and the shop was so exiting; film evenings on Tuesdays, dinner on Friday nights - today, if you'd like to join. Lots of expats come. They start at 8 and the food will be ready by 9.30. (That explains the empty bottles). Sophie-the-owner cooks. She is a good cook. And then we have talks on different topics on some other evenings, it's all on the shop's website. And this shop is also a library, as you might have noticed from some of the books which weren't for sale. We don't have anything like this in Italy. Sophie is very dedicated to this shop.
There was a picture of a bearded man on the wall and how was it that I happened to ask who he was. He was the owner of the shop when it first opened.
"What happened to him?" I asked.
"You saw her downstairs. Sophie used to be a man."

I bet the Friday night dinner would have been a colourful event, but if food was first available at 9.30. pm the night was going to be long. And having seen the cook and her mood was not in the least apetizing. Only in Berlin!

Finished!
I've also heard that the first big threat to books and reading was considered to be the bicycle, which sounds really goofy. Were people really cycling around to their heart's content and forgetting to read?
Today a pet shop keeper visited us and said she was giving up her two franchise shops. She looked really tired, had lost weight and looked ten years older than before. She said she'd been working 70 hours a week. For a long time. She was proud to say her shops were making profit, but mentioned that her worst competitors were not the biggest chain's shops, but a German internet pet shop which was able to sell for almost the same price she was paying for her stock. And they had free delivery to the client's door. Yep, it is owned by a vet, so they also deliver all the Veterinary Diets as well. Luckily the food business has never been big in our clinic, so it does not really affect us.
But The Big Bad Fox is out there for bookshops as well (didn't you just love "You've Got Mail"?) - Amazon. I'm very thankful Dad died before the Internet and Amazon as we would probably had gone without food, toys or space as kids. Even I made some pretty big investments there when I first found it. It had all the books you wanted and those you didn't even know existed, but wanted. The funny thing is that you didn't feel that happy when the books came. I realized I am a hunter by nature and this was too easy. It is not as satisfying as travelling around Britain with a rucksack on your back and finding odd shops, odd people in them and - having gone through piles and piles of books - a treasure! When my shelves started to moan I began to hunt for others. That was even better. You went through the same motions, oh joy - found the book - and in the end you got your money back and didn't have to store the thing.
That reminds me of a book hunt I did for Dad probably 30 years ago. He wanted the letters of Ivy Compton-Burnett. I had been interrailing in Britain for almost a month and my last stop was London at my brother's godmother. My rucksack was bursting and my purse was not. I went to Charring Cross Road and found the letters he wanted. The shop had them (was it two or three volumes, can't remember) either all as hardcovers or one volume as a paperback. It was a lot cheaper, being on its own, and of course it was much lighter to carry. So I took it. Mom phoned when she knew I had arrived to London (no cell phones, remember) and wanted to hear my voice. She passed the phone to Dad who chit-chatted a bit and then asked if I had found anything from his wishlist. I mentioned the letters and that he was lucky, cause one volume was cheaper.
"A paperback? You could have had hardcovers and you've taken ONE paperback. Are you out of your mind? I don't want it. Go and get the other one." His voice could have carried from Finland even without the phone. The problem was that I was leaving the next day and didn't really have time for another shopping spree. The fairy godmother came to my rescue.
"I can buy the paperback from you. Her letters are surely interesting. I will buy the hardcover and post it to your Father." Bless her.

There is a meet-up tomorrow and I'll take this book over, if I can make it that early (10 am and it's almost an hour away, madness!). But I'll carry on with my list of things I wanted to tell. Nobody likes to read a mile-long JE, so I'll make them nice and short. But I have to do the beginnings now, so I won't change the order once the book has found a new reader.

Edit: In Finland Mother Nature sees that we read at least during winter instead of cycling around (pic).

Buzbee mentions that dress code among bookshop keepers is casual, although he met some better dressed 'bookshop dandies' as a book rep. To my experience most second-hand bookshop keepers are men, some of whom look like something the cat has brought in, they seem to wear the same clothes all through their working life without washing them (as did my maths teacher, I think his old pullover must have stood rigid on the floor if he ever took it off). There was one who kept shop for 63 years - God knows how old he was! - and looked like he didn't wash either. Actually he probably didn't, but I'll be telling more about him later, when I'm telling about the bookshop keeper who vanished. Apart from these characters I would say that bookshop keepers tend to dress better than me. I've never seen Cecil Hagelstam without a jacket (his antiquarian shop is among the oldest in Helsinki and certainly the most expensive), and he is anything but dandy. I've never analysed this, but I think it shows respect to the client (although I find C. Hagelstam arrogant, but perhaps he shows respect to those clients he wants to please. His brother Wentzel is in antiques and a totally different kettle of fish, an adorable gentleman, always on a good mood) and seriousness about his business. My dad used to try other shops first, but if he couldn't find what he wanted, he went to Hagelstam's and sighingly paid the price which was probably two or three times more than others would have asked. Thus I found it hilarious that when I first went bookhunting in London Town, I came across a short alley with the most expensive antiquarian bookshops on both sides - and the place was called Cecil Court.
Then there was of course the legendary second hand bookshop 'Hiltunen' in the very heart of Helsinki, probably on the most valuable location between the Market Square and the Senate Square. He proudly told that as a fatherless boy he was put to daycare in his grandfather's antiquarian bookshop at the age of six and so he had learned the ropes early on. He always wore a bow tie and - hmm, what is the word for the garment men wear under their jacket - a waistcoat? If you'll google Seppo Hiltunen, you can see for yourself. He was a very cultured man, very polite and a real wizard in bookselling. With the highest rent in town he had the lowest prices. True, he also paid very little for the books he bought in, but as many shops soon have the problem with the 'sediment', those not-so-good books nobody wants and which may become the majority of their stock if they are not careful, Hiltunen managed to get rid of everything by charging so little. He also had a friend who had a flea-market stall, so when he bought books he put them in two piles: one was for books he paid a namely price for and the other was going straight to flea-market and he would not pay for them, but the client didn't have to take them back and they would not end up in the recycling bin either. He said his secret was the fast turnover. The books did not stay in his shelves for long as they were so cheap, but if you are asking 10€ for a book which only sits in your shelf, it doesn't profit anything. And with a rapidly changing stock he also had customers coming back all the time to check what was new. I remember once when I was having a vacation I decided to do some serious culling of my shelves. Every day of that week I first took the books to the closest sh-bookshop who only took some and paid a good price and the rest I took to Hiltunen, who apologisingly paid a very meagre price, but took the rest. The stock in the first shop was so messy and crowded that you hardly fitted in and nothing seemed to move there within that week. Hiltunen had immaculate order, the shop never appeared too crowded by books and each and every day I found something new to take home, as his stock kept changing all the time. Those who knew to ask some 'better' titles (which were not in the shelves) by name, found out that Hiltunen had a secret backroom where only he went to collect the book asked for, and that usually was more expensive. Mr Hiltunen passed away a year ago at the age of 75 and I'm not the only one who misses him greatly.

Edit: 28th Aug 2016: I've just heard that they've put a memorial plaque of Hiltunen on the wall of the house where his shop was. I've been told that normally you have to be dead at least ten years to get one, but Hiltunen obviously had a bargain on this one, too.

The shop is actually still a sh-bookshop and I sold them some books in July on the condition that they could pay me later, directly to my account. There has to be a first time for everything, but obviously they live from hand to mouth and are hoping to sell the books first. They said 'A couple of weeks', but when four weeks had passed I re-sent them my bank account number just in case. I got an annoyed answer telling he had said 6-8 weeks (must be losing mi hearing) and there are several others to be paid before me. If I am in dire street, I should let them know and they will let me jump the queue. I am still waiting.

It was probably back in the winter of 1988 when my Dad showed me a newspaper article about a book village in Wales. I was going to make yet another interrail trip to the UK the next summer, so I saved the article and put it somewhere in my room. Big Mistake. What went in the room, stayed in the room. Somewhere in the room. Came spring and I had no idea where to find the article. Two options: either clean the room or trust that someone in Britain would know what this village with a funny long name was called. Option two it was to be!
I landed in Dover and there was a very nice sh-bookshop. I started to chat with the owner and told him about the article and that for the life of me I can't remember the name of the village. "It was somewhere in Wales, have you heard of it?" What a silly question, of course he knew all about Hay, everybody in book business knew.
"Yes, it's called Hay-On-Wye. It's very well-known. But what newspaper was the article in?"
"Oh, you wouldn't know it, it was a Finnish newspaper."
"Finland, eh? I've met a Finn once before. She used to work in a bookshop in Colchester."
"Ah, you don't mean Alice M., do you?"
The man stared at me, puzzled.
"Yes, do you know her?"
"Yes, she used to date my brother."
A long story followed how Alice (who is half a Finn, her father being British) had also baby-sitted his children and actually his youngest daughter was named after Alice (who, by the way, got her name from Alice in Wonderland). He asked if I had time to wait, so he could write Alice a letter. Of course I had, this was so bizarre. There were some 4,5 million Finns at that time and all he did was mention having met one and named the place and immediately I knew who he meant.
I didn't have Alice's address on me, but promised to send the letter to her from Finland. When I got back home I phoned Alice and was told that "Alice doesn't live here anymore, but she happens to be visiting me" (those good old-fashioned telephones which were firmly attached to the house, not to the person). So Alice did get her letter, thanks to Hay-On-Wye.

Getting to Hay wasn't that easy. The nearest town which could be reached by train was Hereford and from there only one bus went into Hay and one came out per day. That is plenty by Welsh standards. I've once tried to reach a Welsh village only to find out that a bus went there twice a week! But the trip to Hay was certainly worth the trouble. Hay is a lovely old village near Welsh border. At that time there were 2000 inhabitants and twenty-two sh-bookshops. Heaven!
Even at a B&B everybody assumed you were there for serious book-hunting. They asked tentatively what your particular interest was - who knows, you might collect the same subject i.e. be a competitor - and were visibly happy to learn that I was no threat to anyone. Who in his right mind would collect books about animals in general and dog/vet books in particular? So each time I saw them on the street they came to tell me where they had seen books which would interest me. Great comradeship.

The bookshops came in all sizes, the smallest being the Poetry Book Shop, which of course had poetry only. They even had two Finnish poets translated into English.
There was the Castle Bookshop which had cheaper books on stalls outside, with a bit of rain cover on them and a note saying: "The Honesty Bookshop: If you can't find anybody, put the money in the box, please." There wasn't anybody, so I used the box, but had to return the following day to ask the shopkeeper did it really, actually work. He almost didn't understand my question. In the end, when my message got through, he said horrified: "Who would steal books??" I sent a card to the Academic Bookstore and told them they could save in staff expences by putting a note and a bucket in the middle of the shop. The card has now reached them, some 30 years later. They have sacked a great many people, but the bucket is still missing.

Then there was the Cinema Bookshop, which had taken over an old cinema. It was the largest of them all, a huge place with narrow corridors, stairs up and down, nooks and crannies. Very easy to get lost in, so every so often there was a map on the wall telling "You are here". The shop would never had been approved by Finnish fire authorities.

A bit outside of the town lies Baskerville Hall Hotel, which I found much later. It is The House Conan Doyle describes in the Hound of the Baskervilles. He knew the owners, stayed there (it was a private house back then) and later wrote to them and asked if he could use it as the setting of his latest book. He got their permission, but they loved their peace and quiet and it was agreed that he should 'place' the house elsewhere. True Sherlockians have been up and down Dartmoor looking for this house and have stated that it must be a fictional place. Well, the hall of this house is just like Conan Doyle described it, with two winding staircases taking you up to first floor (in Britain our first floor is their ground floor, remember?) and outside there is that gate where Sir Charles Baskerville had his heart attack. Unfortunately the people who are keeping the hotel are more into sports than books, so although the connection is told in leaflets, nothing much is done to give the place the feel it should have, but all sorts of sporting devices can be hired instead.

Keep it simple. Yesterday I almost came late for work as I was happily writing a JE and lost the sense of time.
Buzbee mentiones Hay-On-Wye and he ought to, as it is the Mekka of booklovers. And it is a delightful village, but there was a time when it was one of those dying rural villages. Then it got a King and everything changed, but I'm not writing about Hay here, or I am trying not to write about it with little success. Buzbee didn't mention Wigtown, which is a much less known book town in Scotland. Not even the tourist info in Fort William knew about it, but they kindly found out how to get there and I did. Get there. That was in 1997 - gaa - 19 years ago!
Where as Hay is a village with small streets up and down every which way and you are easily lost (but not for long as it is a very compact little village), Wigtown has a long main street and most shops are along it, although there are some sidestreets with more shops. To my delight there was also a shop specialized in animal books, dogs in particular, namely 'Paws for thought', but either it's not in the net or it has perished since. Wigtown wasn't very old at that time and there weren't that many customers about and the shops weren't bursting with books which often is the case of an older bookshop - in good and bad. Perhaps due to the shape of the village, Hay is much cosier than Wigtown, but if I'm ever in that neighbourhood again, I will certainly revisit it and see how it has grown out of its baby shoes or is the Big Bad Amazon forcing it to stay in diapers.
I should have began with Tobermory, because I got there first. I was on a trip of a lifetime, whale-watching in the Hebrides. Ten passengers, three crew members, ten days. I hadn't read the small print of the brochure, so I slept in a fo'c'sle (or foxhole, which was how I heard it) with seven men! Don't ever call Brits conventional! Great trip, we only stopped shopping once, in the tiny village of Tobermory. They had a shop which was a grocery store, bookshop and post-office all in one. And the bookshop had a small trasure, a book called 'Old Vets', where the writer had interviewed really old British vets and wrote down their stories. Back in Finland I had tried to pester an old WW2 vet (as in veteran and veterinarian) to write his memoir, but having read 'Old Vets' I realized I could do it for him - and I did. My book came out in 2007.

Damnation, late again!

My favourite SH bookshop in London Town is in Notting Hill Gate. It's called 'Music & Goods Exchange' and I spotted it from a bus window, stepped out and went to investigate. It looked suspicious. The window had a hard rock look and I thought I might be wasting my time going in. I'm glad I did. Not only do they have a very good selection of interesting biographies, BUT they think my interest in literature is rubbish! Almost everything I want can be found in their huge bargain basement. The whole basement used to be priced 10p each for the first couple of years, but last time I was over they had risen their prices to a hideous 20p each. It is a treasure cave. Their pricing system is very honest to the buyer, but it looks ugly. They put a sticker on the front cover and the first time they sell the book, it costs say 3£. If it is taken back and sold again, it costs 2£ and so forth, which is all marked on the sticker [I'll try to take a photo of it]. And those stickers will be there even after Donald Trump has messed the world peace.

A bookstore chain called Borders appeared in the UK and Ireland and I think it was an American company. They had the best animal book departments I've seen and very good sales personel i.e. you were left alone as long as needed, but you could easily find someone when you wanted advice and they were knowledgeable and friendly. I'm sorry to say they've disappeared from the British Isles as far as I know.

Waterstone is still very much alive, a big chain and usually they have the cosy old-fashioned bookstore feel in their shops. I always pop in to the Hampstead branch and if I'm near Piccadilly I try to say hello to that huge store they have there (it's probably their biggest store). And guess what? I think this can only happen in Britain. They have this law that shops are allowed to sell their products only after 10 am on Sundays. Correct. The law does not say anything about when they can open a shop. We had once a BC-meeting at the 6th floor cafe of Waterstone's at 10 am on a Sunday. I was early, the shop was open, but they had signs everywhere saying that you are welcome to browse, but we can sell you books only after 10 o'clock! And there were loads of people browsing there. I went up to the cafe, found a large table, spread my books there and went to order. "Sorry, Madame, you are welcome to sit down, but we can serve you only after 10 am." It was just amazing. I would imagine Finns obeing the 10 am rule, but they would not open the doors even one minute early. Hired people working an hour before the shop can make any profit is unheard of. But that is the Britain we all know and love 😄.

It was probably in 2012 when I was in Ireland and visited a crime book shop in Dublin. There was a young computer nerd sitting behind the till, totally absorbed in his computer world. I had been walking all day and decided to cut corners. I asked if they had any crime stories where a vet was involved in some way. He hardly looked at me, hammered the keyboard, said they had two and picked them out for me. I bought one (still unread, shame on me), but as an old bookshop keeper thought that this is a sad road the book industry has taken, when people who work at a bookshop need only to be able to press buttons, they need not to read the books anymore.
We continued to Malahide and there was a small bookshop in the tiny village. We went in and heard a conversation between three customers and the shopkeeper. Those ladies were off to a holiday and came to have something light to read on the beach. The shopkeeper cleverly introduced some new books, told a bit about their plots and then said which would on her opinion be perfect for the beach and which would need more concentration. She was a very good storyteller, so she sold all those books, some for the trip and the others to be read when back home again. When the ladies had left I went to congratulate her and told that she had restored my faith in the book-selling profession - after which I told her about my visit to the crime book shop. She said this shop is a family business and they sit together on all meals, reading books or discussing them and she, her husband and their daughter all not only love books, but love to help people find the right books for them. What a lovely lady. My friend bought one of the books she had recommended to the ladies and the shopkeeper asked where we were from. Finland was close enough to Sweden as she said that then we would have read the Millennium trilogy. She had heard Larsson had died, but didn't know how. Her eyes were gleaming when we told the story - "That is so tragic, I can't wait to tell my husband!" (And all the customers, I'm sure).

So many bookshops, so many memories...

Arkadia / Kirjamakasiini / The shopkeeper who vanished.

Odd pairs - pipes & books, vet & book. Teaching a man to read. Elisabeth. Martti goes shopping.

Goodbye, little book. I am up. I have been up several times. You know that sound when a dog vomits? You know that if you fly from the bed and open the door in a nanosecond, you might save the carpet. I wasn't fast enough this morning.

Edit: Great! The book went back to oofiri, who already knows about these goofy JEs. Let's see what she thinks about the book.

To be read, eventually. Thanks, kirjakko, looking forward to more journal entries :-)

I'm hard into books, and also bookshops. This was a nice read, a peek into the back room. Thanks, kirjakko & the rest!

Back to kirjakko, who has an intended reader in mind.

It was not me who was Kirjakko's intended reader in mind. I did not even remember to journal my grabbing the book before Kirjakko had time to put it into her bag.

Poor me: I did not find the Library until I was about ten years old. By that time I had already read our 1-volume encyclopedia, 2-volume gardening book and some other books I don't remember the name. My father died when I was six and after that there was not much bying books at our house. There was also a book case of about 200 books in our school. At the beginning of each termin everybody was given a book. After one week it was brought back and given to the pupil sitting next to you. Our teacher was kind and gave the key of the book case to me and my friend and in a few weeks we read all the books. It was a good thing that the books were not the same as in the Library.
The gardening book told about Scorzonera hispanica, black salsify or Spanish salsify which I had never seen. The book said it is delicious. I decided that some day I would eat it. It took almost 30 years before that day came.

During my early childhood there was no bookshop in our village. So when one of my little brothers or two of them tore up the math book of my next brother Mother had to travel 100 kms to the next town to buy a new book, because the school would give only one math book.
I was no salesman for books but I was a salesgirl for Christmas cards many times when I was 9-14 years old. The Grocer's sold some cards but many people wanted something else. I got the cards by postorder and paid them later after selling the cards. These cards had more glitter than those at the Grocer's.

The second half of the book was not so interesting as the first half.
Now I shall return the book to Kirjakko.
---

When I was in my early teens, a bookshop opened at our village. I bought Värikuvakasvio, a book of plants which might be called Color Image Herbarium in English and started learning the names of plants. I made long walks with the book. Once I was laying on the grass reading in our yard when I noticed a curious plant next to me and I thought "There is no plant like that one." But there was! It looked kind of dead plant to me.
Mäntykukka (Monotropa hypopitys) has many names in Englis: Dutchman's pipe, false beech-drops, pinesap, or yellow bird's-nest. Unlike most plants, it does not contain chlorophyll. That's why it is so odd.

It is a shame that I have not visited Shakespeare & Co. Usually I like to visit book shops everywhere and buy a book or two even if I don't know the language.

Kirjakko got the book back at the mini meet-up in Helsinki.
Merry Christmas!

This is my # 141 in
"KEEP THEM MOVING 2016" Challenge arranged by Booklady331.

The Yellow Light shines on me again! Good timing, I will probably see my ex-workmate around Christmas and she was the one who wanted to read this.
Annelis, all I can say is that you have to return to Paris and visit Shakespeare & Co now that you know about it. But if you are very very very nice you can not only lend my Brideshead Revisited CD read by Darling Jeremy Honeytongue Irons, but also Mercher's 'Books, Baguettes and Bedbugs' (a non-BC-book) while waiting for your trip to Paris materialize.

Pic: Don't you just love this lamp? I admire it in a shop window whenever I pass it.

On the 13th day of Christmas Elisabeth finally got this book.

Pic: Last opportunity to take a photo of this year's Christmas tree in our yard, tomorrow it will be stripped and taken away.

Elisabeth read the book right away and loved it. It described bookshops well. Her daughter likes to read the book next.

Elisabeth added that she particularly liked how people could spend time at a bookshop, have tea or coffee - smoke even - and discuss books, "Just like it used to be at the Academic Bookstore, where you would meet people who loved books and reading and had something else in their head than shopping. Knowledgable, educated people who had done interesting things and read interesting books. Or written them."