Las Vegas Review-Journal (Sunday)
Don’t judge this bookseller by his cantankerous cover
If you like your bookstores warm and cozy and your booksellers chatty, you might not like Shaun Bythell or his shop.
You might, however, like his memoir, which is entertaining and dryly humorous, despite Bythell’s apparent loathing of most humans.
In particular, he detests his customers: those who want to chat; those who hang around for hours but don’t buy anything; those who try to bargain down prices, and — understandably — those who check their phones to see if they can get the books cheaper on Amazon.
The ideal customer, he tells us, is the steadfast Mr. Deacon, who “never browses and only ever comes in when he knows exactly what he wants.” Even better, Mr. Deacon never chats.
Bythell’s misanthropic memoir, “The Diary of a Bookseller,” covers one year in the life of the Bookshop, his used books mart in a drafty stone house in Wigtown, Scotland.
Over the course of that year, not much happens. He sells some books. The computer goes down. The front window leaks during a driving rain. Bythell’s girlfriend (as perky as he is grumpy) visits from London. He drives out into the countryside to buy books from people who are downsizing. His cat goes missing. His cat returns.
And yet, “Diary” is fascinating.
Despite Bythell’s taciturn ways, I found myself liking him, if only for his eloquent, measured seething about things he cannot control — his messy customers; his quirky staff (assistant Nicky — who calls Bythell “the ginger conundrum” — is constantly shelving books where he cannot find them); and, above all, the “relentless march of Amazon,” which, he notes, threatens not only his store, but all bookstores, as well as distributors, publishers and authors.
Here and there, a bit of humanity shines through. When an elderly man is delighted to find an old book with his father’s name inscribed on the first page, Bythell — ginger conundrum that he is — lets him have it for free.
And while he is too restrained to express regret or joy, it is clear that Bythell is, if not happy, at least content.
“Whatever is required to keep this ship afloat will be done,” he writes near the end. “This life is infinitely preferable to working for someone else.”