Three major collections have come into the shop this past week: signed first editions, underground comix, and pop-up books. We are delighted by all three. It does take a bit of a shift in the brain to hop from austere international literature to boobs and spaceships, but we are not complaining. As souls in the contemporary world, we can live comfortably with our cognitive dissonance. In fact, the inventory of a used bookshop, at least that of a generalist, is a lovely expression of cultural dissonance, unless you’re a snob. In that case, your shelves heave with pretentiousness in the form of “high” literature, and the piles of boobies on spaceships will not stand. Fortunately, we do not suffer from this aspirational bookselling. We love our comix as much as we love our literature. Both share a bedroom and are, in our house, deeply in love.
There is no telling what will walk through the door, or WHO will walk through the door for that matter. Many members came to see us this past week. One brought a dog that, in an unexpected way, calmed the normally spazzy Cooper right down. This was an Old Soul dog. She walked in, standing tall up to Jason’s waist, and sat down like the kinder version of Zuul’s hellhounds. Her gaze was calm. Her gait was almost human. She looked at us gently, disdaining not to destroy us, and elbowed to the floor to rest. Cooper barked. The dog did not move. Three minutes later Cooper, was lying right next to her almost asleep. WE were almost lying next to her almost asleep. It almost became HER bookshop, and us her book clerks, so great was her dominion over the place.
Perhaps, in the next few weeks, if a snowstorm arrives, this mighty, massive hound will come to us bearing bags of books on her back. We will let her in. We will make an offering. She will set down her pack and assure us that all is well and good. Maybe by then, she will have a coyote friend as well. (We did see a coyote near the Blackfriars office recently). The two animals will make an offer on our bookstore, and being much afraid (the kind of assurance only fear can offer) we will concede and give them everything. However, being kind and gentle creatures (the coyote now being completely transformed into a resident of the Peaceable Kingdom) they will not accept our offer, and simply say, “Cash or trade, whatever you think is best.” We will offer them both. They accept the trade. They take a book or two with them.
Little did we know forest animals get together to drink wine and have a book club by the Thames River the last Thursday of every month. Our shop is now their local bookshop. Henceforth, on the daily, raccoons, coyotes, dogs, even cats, come to us to drop off books for trade. How this motley crew of inter-species literati decides WHICH book to read each month is beyond us. We feel too baffled to ask. It even worse in the summer when we’ll sometimes have a food truck parked in our parking lot. Word will get out and ALL THE ANIMALS from the neighbourhood will show up, hogging the line so no humans can order anything. We apologize in advance to our human friends and customers: “Such are the challenges of success.”
We welcome them all.
Much love,
Jason and Vanessa
