2009 10 05 |
Last week, I made a day long tour of Downtown Halifax’s used bookstores. A friend of mine came from out of town and we spent hours perusing dusty stacks of books. Such an activity might sound like Dante’s third level of hell to some, but we found it most agreeable. I came away with a terrific edition of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment from Dustjacket, in Maritime Centre. I also picked up a collection of golden age detective short stories by Dorothy Sayers, from JW Doull. I’ve never read Sayers, but this same friend, who thankfully introduced me to the wonderful G.K. Chesterton, recommends her highly. Sayers was an unofficial member of “The Inklings,” the exclusive group of literary minded Oxford gentlemen, led by C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, who used to meet weekly in the 1930s and ‘40s. Among the first women to receive a degree from Oxford, I suppose it would have been too much to hope that Sayers could become an official Inkling as well.
Despite losing The Book Room and Frog Hollow in recent months, we’re lucky to have such a plethora of bookshops left in our Downtown. It is a rarity in North American downtowns, and becoming increasingly so. What Chapters could not kill, the Internet is chipping away at more successfully, because of the added customer service. Internet sites give you customized recommendations, and you can seek out online reviews; for specific items one can go online and track down a book far more quickly than traipsing about from store to store. But I hope the used bookstore will always be with us. Walking leisurely amongst those stacks is like being privileged to peruse someone’s private library, and picking for yourself the world into which you would like to disappear. Finding something you didn’t go looking for; that’s the joy of the used bookstore.