Thursday night we learned that one of our favourite people in the world, Nancy Buckingham, died. Some of you may have known Nancy. Nancy was a bookseller. She was an excellent bookseller. She was a mentor to both of us. She was the first person to teach us our trade and develop in us a love of bookselling.
Nancy was more than a bookseller, of course, but to us she was the first true bookseller we ever met. We’ve met all sorts of booksellers in our twenty plus years in the trade and none were like Nancy. Perhaps this is because we got to know her so well. She dodged the cliches many booksellers fall into. She was unpretentious, forthright, deeply intelligent, passionate, and generous to those she trusted.
Often, when we are faced with a business challenge we ask ourselves, “What would Nancy do?” This has been a refrain of ours since the beginning. In recent years we spent time with her and were deeply validated by her approval of some of the, ahem, unconventional choices we have made with our business. Nancy had a way of doing things. Wondering how she would do it is always, and always will be, an essential step for us. She had an eye for detail, both bibliographically and business-wise, something that, if you spend time with used booksellers, is not common.
She taught us how to catalogue. She taught us how to price books. She taught us how to arrange a shop. How to treat customers. How to bring your dog to work. How to be generous with good people. How to protect what you care about. How to desire Ancient Knights from the Days of Yore. How to fight for book culture. How to be happy.
She was so good at her job no one really knew how good at her job she was. She blended seamlessly into the trade. Few knew her well. Few knew how talented she was at making a shop hum. She cared for order, good sense, good taste, good jokes, good ideas, and Styx. Also Gowan. When Gowan joined Styx she was over the moon. Neither of us like Styx, but it was never a problem. She was class.
How it came that we ended up working for her seems more to do with luck than anything. London is big, and there are always people looking to work in a bookshop. How she ended up with two fraught and ambitious nerds like us clinging to her heels fills us with the upmost sympathy. We must have been awful. We were never easy to work with, but she taught both of us to try and work like it meant something. She showed us that there’s pride in bookselling, that it is a trade and a vocation.
Neither of us really know how much she influenced us. She was one of those people. She was one of those people that hold the world together. Her tribe was small, and we were fortunate to be a part of it. Those who knew her cared for her deeply. She scoffed it off, as classy people do. Nothing really stuck to Nancy. You could tell, though, that she blushed inside when thinking that a part of the nerdy world found her and befriended her and we were two of those people for a time and still are.
During lockdown, Nancy came by the shop to see what we had done with things. We sat in the cozy chairs at the front of the store and talked about the past, the present, and her uncertain future. She was extraordinarily at peace with things, unsentimental. She said we had done well. “This is a good bookstore,” she said. Coming from her… we fain independence but need approval just like anyone else. Nancy’s approval of our little corner in the world laid a foundational block in time.
Those words brought a whole part of our life home.
Much love,
Jason and Vanessa
