Jeffery A.
Yelp
I like order. I like the peace. It's what attracts me to bookstores (that and the books).
I'm a fanatic when it comes to books. Being a fanatic is a weakness, the fanatic is always concealing a secret doubt. A longing to be somewhere, someplace, someone else that just maybe...they can never be.
Reading is not merely for knowledge, it's empathy. Reading teaches us to put ourselves in another's shoes. The sociopath/psychopath doesn't read, I think, he watches, he studies.
Not that I don't have sociopathic tendencies, we all do. I just own mine. I'm driven.
What a beautiful find for a book store. So delicately peaceful, full of a menagerie of book lovers, and hushed tranquility. Palatial red carpeted isles overflowing with bound knowledge, and someone to direct you with oracular clairvoyance to your desired destination.
My desire:
Marco Pierre White's classic cookbook: White Heat
I was looking for a first addition and at a reasonable price. You'd think that the place to find this would be in his home country. Having been originally published in 1990, and hitting a price spike after his Hell's Kitchen success, I was informed that such a unicorn dose not exist, most especially in the U.K.
I bought it new.
I did meet many likeminded cooking enthusiasts and had a robust exchange of ideas and favorites (they were very impressed by my recent visits to Antica Macelleria Cecchini and even more so by my knowledge of the duck shepherds pie at Balthazar).
"By God! A Yank with standards!"
The top floor:
Used book section is loaded with rare finds!
Hemingway's (First addition, superb dust jacket) Men Without Women (£195), and Winner Take Nothing (£395) both of which were fun to hold but For Whom the Bell Tolls would have been a deal breaker (and pocket, I'm sure). Then there was poor Graham Greene's The End of the Affair (£95).
It's soon to be a relic, a bookstore dedicated to selling books, not coffee. Thank you for keeping it real. A place for readers.
That was something my grandad taught me.
Real men? They wash the dishes, they eat quiche (and any damned thing he set in front of them), and they read books.
Aloha