Some words for Independent Bookshop Week
A celebration of one of the most important spaces in my life.
I was asked to write a few words on the importance of independent bookshops for the week of celebrations #IBW. So here they are.
Each independent bookshop is unique, with its own personality, its own quiet triumphs, its own peccadilloes, and I have a different relationship with each one I frequent. They are places of reflection and discovery, renewal, and familiarity. The best ones offer a space where, in this world of welter, we can take our time, we can console ourselves and be inspired in the infinity of literature. When we browse, we do so in the heightened expectation that stumbling upon a particular item that fits in the palm of your hand can change the way you see the world, and the way you see yourself. They do not dazzle, they do not bluster, and they refuse, in their hearts, to push confection over nourishment (although l've never been in one that doesn't love a sweet tooth, too). These are serious places for the lovers of life.
You see, they are not simply suppliers of produce, although they do that, of course, and those dedicated folk who work the riches of the dusted aisles are more likely than not the sort to give pastoral attention to the individual book-buyer's needs (we all know this - they are famous for it). These places house the notes to the endless conversation that humankind is having with itself. And we can walk right in and snaffle it up.
I try to avoid romantic notions when I can, so I won't say these places are cathedrals, or beating hearts, or even that they are memorials to a time when intellectual pursuits were held in better regard; but I will say the independent bookshop is a symbol of the best of us as a society. They are run by passionate entrepreneurs who are, it seems, in my experience, unencumbered by the capitalists' lust for the rip off. These bookshops are honest places. They are places that respect reading, they respect the notion of curiosity, self-improvement, of compassion, of generosity, of progress, of community, of a higher power - that is, the human uniqueness of pairing ideas with style. We must hold on to these places because we must hold on to places that believe in humanity and humanness. And we must champion them, because by doing so we champion the best in us.
Gary Raymond is a novelist, author, playwright, critic, and broadcaster. In 2012, he co-founded Wales Arts Review, was its editor for ten years. His latest book, Abandon All Hope: A Personal Journey Through the History of Welsh Literature is out now with Calon Books.