Some people remember places they have visited by the restaurants they go to and the food they eat there. I remember places by their bookstores.
The first bookstore I got to know well was in Detroit Lakes, Minnesota. In the back of the shop was a small shelf with a handful of science fiction and fantasy books. I was 14 years old, had recently read “The Chronicles of Narnia,” and was looking for something similar. That is where I discovered J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Fellowship of the Ring,” Anne McCaffrey’s “The Dragonriders of Pern” and Ursula K. Le Guin’s “A Wizard of Earthsea.” Reading those books was a revelation, and I am grateful to whoever owned that little bookstore for opening a door to a new and wonderful world.
Two or three times a year my family would make a trip to Fargo, North Dakota, where we would visit the West Acres Shopping Center, North Dakota’s largest mall. Among its many stores was a B. Dalton Bookseller which was a rapidly expanding chain in the 1970s. The store was bright, characterless and included something for just about everybody’s reading tastes. I could always find something there, but it wasn’t the kind of place where one wanted to spend hours just browsing.
For that, I had to wait until I went off to college in St. Paul, where I found a used bookstore along Snelling Avenue that had an eccentric collection of old titles, like Andrew Lang’s “Blue Fairy Book,” with illustrations by H.J. Ford. Just down the street was the Macalester College bookstore, which had the region’s best assortment of philosophy books. It is where I purchased a volume containing all 28 of Plato’s dialogues.
I had had my eye on that particular book for months but was always a little short on cash. Then on a visit home during spring break, my grandpa opened his wallet and handed me his last $20 bill. “Go out and have a good time,” he said. “Don’t spend it all on books.” I didn’t spend it all on books, just half of it. I took a date out with the remaining $10, which covered beer and peanuts. I didn’t get a second date, but I had Plato to keep me company.
Within a couple decades Amazon would come along and put the squeeze on independent bookstores and chain stores alike. Heavy discounting and convenience made it difficult to compete with online sales. Time and again I would travel through some town, looking for a bookstore I had visited in the past, only to find a coffee shop, cafe or tattoo parlor on the street where it used to be.
But then something happened that nobody could have predicted. Independent bookstores made a resurgence, with their number doubling since 2016 to about 2,500. Nearly 200 new stores are expected to open in the next year.
A white paper from the Harvard Business School attributes the surprising growth of independent book stores to three factors: community, curation and convening.
Independent bookstores have discovered that they can be community gathering places, often located in historic downtowns. Many focus on curating a unique collection, sometimes focusing on local authors and themes, other times specializing on a certain genre, like mystery, history or nature. Some have become event centers, hosting book signings, reading groups, concerts and game nights.
Browsing the shelves of a well-stocked bookstore is like walking through a crowd. You never know who you will encounter. There is the likelihood of coming across an old friend, meeting a new acquaintance, having a conversation that opens up new possibilities and insights. Visiting a bookstore with friends is even better, offering the chance to make introductions. “Oh, do you know this book? I think you would like it.”
One of the most interesting findings of recent research on social and economic mobility is that the neighborhood in which one grows up is the chief factor determining whether a child born into poverty can rise up into the middle class. The reason for that is the friends one makes while young introduce new possibilities for one’s future, offering views of a life that goes beyond what one experiences at home. Good friends end up shaping one’s identity in positive and substantial ways.
As far as I know, nobody has thoroughly studied the influence books have on the future lives of young people. But I know that, in my case at least, books opened up a world that I could otherwise not have imagined. They allowed me to shape an identity in companionship with the characters I admired most. And my access to those books came from the owner of a little bookstore in a small town.
I’d like to thank all those who own, manage and tend the 2,500 bookstores across our nation. You provide a place for all of us introverts to get away from the extroverts, while still satisfying our need to socialize. You open up new worlds, and possibilities for new friendships, to everyone who comes through your doors.
