Turning over a new leaf
Physical books have survived the digital age and independent bookshops are booming. Stephen Wade investigates the new reading culture of ‘comfort, choice and chat’
Stephen Wade enjoys a browse in the new breed of bookshops
With the reading habit came the relentless desire for self-improvement
NOT long ago, people went to a bookshop to buy a book. Spending cash on the latest bestseller often happened because there was a favourable review in the papers. Shoppers browsed, of course, but bookshops were about shelves of books. It was all about buying and selling. Now, a visit to a bookshop is an essential part of our cultural landscape, in the same way as going to the theatre or an art gallery is. There has been a stealthy revolution in the reading culture of actual material books and it has survived the e-book challenge.
Two hundred years ago, booksellers were publishers. Their footfall was as likely to consist of struggling poets or sermon writers eager to find someone to print their work as a book-buyer. Purchasing books was reserved for the well-heeled and, if a person browsed, it was because they had been checked out before entering. Shoplifters knew that books were valuable.
In Victorian times, the growth of the circulating libraries and the domination of the book market by Mudie’s and Smith’s echoed the arrival of the new rich, then burgeoned further when the railways arrived and the three-volume novel became essential for a slow journey. With the reading habit came the relentless desire for self-improvement in the exciting new world of knowledge, boosted by everything from Darwin’s The Origin of Species (1859) to the 1870 Education Act.
Now, there has been a new revolution in that reading culture. The independent-bookshop owners and managers have understood that what they must offer is something more than merely books. After the disappearance of Borders in city centres and the limited range of works discounted on supermarket shelves, simply being among books has become cool. A good bookshop in today’s multimedia world has to offer high-quality coffee and food, comfortable seating, activities such as reading groups, play areas for children and abundant evidence that the shop in question is run by people who love and respect books, who want everyone to share their passion for the written word.
Book-ish, a vibrant bookshop and cafe in the village of Crickhowell, Powys, defines its milieu succinctly: ‘Bookish: person or way of life devoted to reading and study.’ There are specialist shops (foreign literature, poetry, health and wellbeing) and there are shops dedicated to defined aspects of the reading culture, such as Readinglasses in Wigtown (Scotland’s National Book Town), which wants to
attract women readers primarily. Jacqui Robertson, the proprietor, boasts: ‘ReadingLasses is the only women’s bookshop in Britain and our front room is dedicated to books by and about women.’
The diversity in the range of the independent shops is staggering. In Cardiff, Octavo’s Bookshop & Cafe is a wine bar with book-lined shelves that add to the ambience; the St Ives Bookseller tells you that ‘once you’ve bought your new book, you can read it looking out onto the bay, pasty in hand’. Books for Cooks in Notting Hill, London W11, says exactly what it is and so does Word Power Books in Edinburgh, which is ‘an unashamedly political hub of independent thought’.
This resurgence of the independents was celebrated in June this year by author Damian Barr, who works hard to preserve the tradition of the salon for literary folk. He pointed out that there are almost 900 bookshops in the UK now. The British Book Awards have the Independent Bookshop of the Year and, in 2019, 48 shops entered, with Edinburgh’s Golden Hare Books taking home the prize.
What makes for success, then, in this brave new world of books? Brett Wolstencroft, of Daunt Books in Marylebone and other London venues, reminds us that Daunt has been in existence since 1990, in premises that were occupied by Francis Edwards booksellers in Edwardian times. Daunt is a survivor, so Mr Wolstencroft’s comments are expressed with authority: ‘The intention then, as now, was to arrange books principally by country, whatever the nature of the book—fiction or non-fiction—and, in so doing, create wonderful browsing.’
Browsing is certainly a factor in what customers need, but more is asked for overall. If we check out a bookshop away from the metropolis, it’s possible to see all the necessary provisions for growing a bookshop community. There’s no better source of information on this than Sheridan Swinson, who has the Aardvark Bookery in Brampton Bryan, north Herefordshire. Buzzing with activity, it’s a template for what an independent shop should be. ‘There must be more than one string to your bow and you must also sell online,’ advises Mr Swinson. ‘In terms of footfall, there will be quiet times, but open when you say you will.’
Aardvark is in a rural location, stocking more than 50,000 titles, but that doesn’t mean that days will all be quiet. Mr Swinson has events, art exhibitions, a cafe (the chocolate tiffin is the best-seller) and even more adventurous affairs, such as a visit by Civil War re-enactment enthusiasts. There’s a large book room specifically for children and a solid stock of art books to match the exhibitions. He produces thousands of brochures and these appear in supermarkets and garden centres, as well as heritage centres. One customer recently travelled from Sheffield to collect a particular book—he wanted more than an online order.
The notion of working hard to make a reading community is a priority for many and Joff Gainey, at his Bookstop Cafe at the top of Lincoln’s Steep Hill, is a remarkable example of this. He tried readings, but his space is very limited. The next move was to concentrate on books by local writers, stocking several copies of each title and inviting customers in his coffee shop to
read and order. They can even mark a page, come back and decide on a purchase later. The key elements in such bookshops’ rise to popularity might be summed up as comfort, choice and chat. This is the basis of everything, but we should add children, cafe and culture. The key word ‘culture’ is often conveyed by showcasing the staff’s enthusiasms in their reading, but it may also comprise writing competitions and even musical performances. I have found the latter in both my local Oxfam shop and in Foyles, Charing Cross Road, London WC2. What about the celebrity bookshops? They often crop up in the ‘book towns’—a related phenomenon to bookshops, with several around now, from Wigtown to Sedbergh and, of course, Hay-on-wye. Hay has arguably the most mediahyped shop in years past: Richard Booth’s enormous store, which is now a bookshop and cinema. Fifteen years ago, I met Mr Booth and he spoke about the many famous writers who called into the shop. Then, it was
charming, somewhat dust-coated, but with a massive, overwhelming stock. Today, it’s very different. It is, as its website proclaims, ‘light and airy’ and holds pilates and yoga classes, as well as showing films.
In my experience (and I write as a confirmed bibliophile with a private library of 8,000 volumes), the siren-like appeal of an independent bookshop is that of an allinclusive buzz of activity, where granddad sifts through the military history shelves,
the children have opened a picture book and assorted couples and thoughtful individuals (probably writers and poets) are dotted around the coffee shop, with paperbacks stacked in front of them or by their side. Many shops now provide selections of books on trolleys or carousels close to the cafe tables. The invitation is clear: drink, nibble snacks, chatter away with friends and walk out with a book. You will be on trend—and you will want to return.