The Bookstore of the Universe

Little satisfies me more than holding a bound book, a pleasure since I borrowed from the Children's Room of my local Carnegie-endowed public library, a ten-minute walk from home. I can still smell the bouquet of books, floor wax, and mineral water that flowed from the terrazzo bubbler. 

The Library was deeply local. Until the late '60s, the Hemingway short stories known as "the Nick Adams stories" which were set in the area and contained unflattering characterizations of not-hard-to-guess residents, were absent from its shelves. The librarian called my mother when I was in high school and wanted to check out John O'Hara's "Butterfield8", which was kept on the lone "Adults Only" shelf. (Mom said, "Give her any book she wants." Mrs. McCune said, "But she goes to a Catholic school!" Mom repeated her request.)



Bookstores are a favourite haunt, but with the resurgence of my thrift-store habit when our grandson was born, I started to pick up donated children's books, and found a bonus for myself: hardcovers or quality paperbacks priced below a café au lait.

I especially enjoy the role of chance. Since March 2020, "chance" carries an ominous overtone, but not all fates are furies. I stand in front of shelves and wish, "Give me a good read, O Goddess of the Written Word."

The Universe gave me Madeleine Thien's haunting "Do Not Say We Have Nothing"; Elena Ferrante's "Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay", and Julian Barnes' "Nothing to Be Frightened Of". I like to find clues left by the past owners; one of my purchases was inscribed "To James, With All the Love and Kisses".

I encouraged  Le Duc, who has a ferocious book-buying habit, to try; on one trip, he scored a Frank Zappa biography and "The Road". 


There are genres I don't read (romance, sci-fi, military history) but every time, I spot classics or no-longer-current novels for three dollars. Used bookstores are great too, but I especially like the mission of non-profit thrifts who operate extensive job-training programs.

The Universe has contracted in another thrift-store area: the level of casual clothes donated has taken a dive: good sweaters, tops and athletic wear. The thrift is where acrylic spends eternity. 

I'm betting that women aren't donating good clothes because there's hardly anywhere to go, so wear what they have. The as-new quality (or if super-lucky designer) sportswear that made thrifting a treasure hunt now stays in their closets.

The Thrift Universe still shimmers beneficently for dressier business clothes. Recently, I spotted drop-dead blazers: an impeccable ecru Stella McCartney, a leopard-print Lafayette148, for only $12 each. But I don't need more jackets and it seems few women do. When the fashion-show proxy known as "the office" returns, will those be desirable again?

And when bins are stuffed with masks because we don't need them anymore, will that be a happy day!


Comments

Laura J said…
Gosh that photo brought back memories. While I have bought books at thrift stores, I generally don’t go very often since there are none accessible by transit (at least easily). I’m a library user first but lately have been consciously ordering regularly from our local bookstore. They deliver by bicycle! I’m worried that local bookstores will not survive ...we’ve lost most of ours. Before Covid there was a great fundraiser Brooke sale in town which had great buys.
LauraH said…
Lacking local thrifts, I have taken to dropping by our used book stores. We're lucky to have two excellent stores close by. It's such a thrill to find something you have had in mind for years or fill a gap in a much loved series.
royleen said…
That Library looks exactly like the one I walked to in my youth. Also a Carnegie Library. I remember my mom saying “Of course you can use the adults section” when I found the children’s section too limiting. I love librarians!
Anonymous said…
The thrift in my area is terrible. They get too many donations and will tell you to leave books or brand new shoes in the rain in the parking lot. I buy mainly remainder books and then donate them to a used bookstore. The store ships the ones they can't sell to shelters and prisons. IMHO they are more charitable than the charity is.
Wizelliott said…
I really had to do a double take when I saw this photo. It looks just like the wonderful Robbins Library that I grew up with in Massachusetts. Such a beautiful environment to read in. Giant reading room with high ceilings, oak chairs and marble floors. I still get a thrill walking through the front doors. As a child, there was a separated children’s library with my favorite book “Snip Snap Snur”. As a teenager, Harpers Bazaar was always waiting for me in a big wingback chair on a Saturday afternoon, for free. Thanks for the walk down memory lane.
Sam said…
My mother & I had similar story when our tiny town librarian thought James Michener's Hawaii was unsuitable reading for a fifth grader. A very good book it was, too!
Susan said…
My father's office was right next door to the Carnegie Public Library in the small Texas town where I grew up. During the summer, I would go to work with him in the morning and spend my day at the library. Sometimes we would have lunch across the street at Kress's, which was a five and dime store. Great memories of sitting on the floor in the children's section and reading to my heart's content.
annie said…
Oh, my. What memories this post brought back to me. I lived in Washington, D.C. and the Georgetown Public Library was the closest. The scent of the card catalog stays with me to this day. And the highly polished floors. And the treasure trove of books. In the summer, I could kill at least one book a day. The librarian would only let me check out five at a time. So I took my 30 minute walk uphill more than once a week! The children's department was on the second floor. You can imagine that I went through most of those books before I finished the 8th grade. I wanted to read a book by Rose Franken, "Claudia," but it was downstairs in the adult department. The librarian said I couldn't check out books from the adult department until I was 14. The pleasure I got from the library led me to become a librarian.
Jane in London said…
And I see the book goddess has also led you to a copy of Evelyn Waugh's Scoop.

As the nights draw still further in, what joy to lose oneself in the madness and machinations of the 'Daily Beast' and Boot's progress as an innocent abroad.

Seeing it has made me want to re-read it! We have a wonderful Oxfam book shop nearby; perhaps I should take the serendipity plunge once it reopens after our current lockdown.

Jane in London

Duchesse said…
Laura J: Wonderful to support local bookstores too. My joke is that Le Duc more than fulfills that wish, so I balance the dent to to budget with my thrifted (and then re-donated) choices.

Laura H: Used bookstores are good too and often the staff make recommendations, and there is the book sale at U of T (which I. realize might be suspended now) and thrifts with book sections not that far away if you are so inclined.

royleen: Yay, Mom! The librarians who acted as censors in my small town seemed to think it was a professional duty.

Anon@ 6:00 p.m. Oh no, that sounds awful and what a way to discourage donations! Remaindered books are an excellent strategy, thanks for the idea. Thanks for your comment but please sign it with your nom de plume even if you choose the Anonymous setting.

Jane in London: Somehow Waugh fits these crazy times.

annie: I love this story, and still have great affection for libraries. I mourn the quality of the early 20th century public libraries with their brass and polish. I liked the relaxed modern libraries where we took our children, but the grandeur of a reading room with those beautiful wooden poles that held newspapers...! There is nothing like an old public library.

Susan: What a sweet memory, and of the days when leaving a small child in a library was normal and accepted by all. Ours was near a drug store with a real soda fountain, remember those? My sister would sometimes take me there after the library closed. One of her girlfriends worked there and if we bought two Brown Cows, we somehow were charged only for one.


Wizelliott: Snipp Snapp Sunurr: What a buried trove of joy you unearthed with those words. Those Classical Revival Carnegie Libraries were architecturally consistent and much statelier than the later styles. Often, a gem in a small town.

Sam: And an ambitious book for a young reader.

Jane in London: Waugh feels appropriate for these crazy times. The thrift a short walk from my apartment is lavishly stocked and it's fun to see all kinds of people browsing. Also a fantastic source for cook books.

Bunny said…
Wonderful post, Duchesse. My last post retirement and favorite job ever was working in a library that was also "deeply local" for 7 years that I will treasure . It was a vital part of our small community and working there brought me so many dear friends and an involvement with the community that I so miss in my current "retirement" far away. I had the mom who came in to get "Fifty shades of Gray" for her 16 year old daughter to read and thought that was a really good idea. We had a section on "Westerns" and it was quite popular with the post 75 years of age gentlemen who came in. They clamored for new titles and had dreams of being Zane Gray. I could go on. Your post brought back wonderful memories.

As far as the Thrifts, I haven't seen decent clothing in them in a long time and I love to thrift! My theory is people are living in fast fashion and turning it over just as fast and that's what we are finding in the big Goodwills and Sallie Maes. My best option is a small church affiliated shop only open two days a week in a wealthy neighborhood. Seems that as the older parishioners pass on, this is where their closets are laid to rest and you can still get a great cashmere sweater or coat. Being one who will take apart a garment made of a fine textile, I love these finds and this place still gives me opportunities. For the most part, I have given up on finding anything worth wearing or remaking in the bigger thrift stores. There is just no quality any more, just re-used fast fashion.
Beth said…
Hmmm...where was that leopard blazer??? ;-)
Tom said…
Beautiful post and title. I stopped going to thrift stores a bit before the shut down. My house is about to explode and I did not want my first retirement task to be massive decluttering (which I find dispiriting and exhausting). 10 months later, I'm still teaching (on-line) and still decluttering.

I've been giving 80% of my extra bookiage to the New Orleans Friends of the Library and 20% as trade-in to the wonderful Blue Cypress Books of New Orleans. My daughter is using the credit to build her own library. It's hard for me to give away books, but I like seeing them go to a great organization that provides books to schools and to help keep a small biz going.

Years ago, I found the book Embers at the thrift. I had never heard of it. It is wonderful and became my son's favorite book. Totally fortuitous. READ IT!

Also fortuitous--though creepy. I bought a literary theory book at the thrift. Inside was an email from a teacher (name and school address) to a former student. She had evidently asked him for grad school recommendations and said "I had a crush on you." Now she should not have done that (students do a lot of dumb things--it's ok). His 2 page single-spaced response began with some good professional advice and went into descriptions of the skin peeking out of the top of her jeans and so on into R-rated territory. It was obviously a practiced response. EWWW. You know TOM didn't write this but he would say HI!
Duchesse said…
Bunny: I do still find the very occasional quality piece, and lots of activewear. (Why? I suppose women enrol in a program of some sort and then decide not to go?) But lacking your skills, it has to be a real stroke of luck because I'm not pulling clothes apart.

Beth: Well, gone now as we'd expect but I will keep my eye out for someone wearing it ;) On the same trip I also spotted a blush pink ça va de soie cashmere cardi, size small (and cropped) that was only missing its sole button. Easy fix.

E. (Tom): I always cite you as my inspiration to go back to the thrifting I did in my 20s to early 30s. Thank you for the book recommendation. So you finally found a new home for your books! As for the prof/student exchange, double EWWW. And do young women •naively• write that? Not to say he should have responded even if she intended to see where her admission would lead. This sounds like a short story idea, imagine what Joyce Carol Oates would do with it.

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