Last month, the Guardian published an article on how “young people are shunning AI algorithms and online retailers to experience the joy of visiting bookshops.” The article makes me feel excited, and matches my experience going to a bookshop.
I go to bookshops to explore, to wander, to learn. I enjoy walking in the front door and seeing what new books are out, from the new titles from authors I love to the releases whose authors I have not heard of and look fascinating. I like going to my favourite sections – fiction, poetry, and reference – often with no particular book in mind. I want to discover new titles; to be delighted.
I have found many books that have gone one to become among my favourites by walking through bookstores. I first learned about The Poetry Pharmacy, a series of collected poems grouped by moments in life, from a bookstore. I found more translated fiction books that I went on to enjoy, like Days at the Morisaki Bookshop and Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop.
Sometimes, a title catches my eye, then I spend a few minutes reading through different parts of the book. For reference works, I often open the book to a random page and read a few paragraphs. Sometimes I read a page. More often than not, I end up leaving the store not only having purchased the book but also with new things to think about on my way back home from the bookshop.
When I am in a bookshop, I often forget about the time. Instead, I become immersed in all of the titles around me. I think about how much knowledge there is and how many stories there are contained within the shelves, and how a new story or interest could be as far as a shelf away. I like it when I find an island of books on a table where I see a book I have enjoyed, then other books that feel the same. The titles have been curated by someone. I love this feeling.
From the vastness of a chain store to the warmth of a used bookstore with a personality that imbues you with a sense of delight, bookshops have made my day many a time this year.
