It’s all over the library and bookish blogs that Cody’s, Berkeley’s great bookstore, has closed its doors. No doubt I should have some deep policy insight about how this tragedy could have been averted, and about its implications for the future, but I don’t. Rather, I’m taking a little time to remember and to mourn.
Perhaps 30 years ago, my father visited me in Ann Arbor and we went to Borders (The idea that fathers and sons should hang out in bookstores together is one of the things that I am both remembering and, prospectively, mourning.) This was before Borders had become a chain, back when Ann Arbor was its only store, and Dad remarked that it was really quite wonderful that Ann Arbor had a bookstore that reminded him of Cody’s, the best of all of the college town bookstores. And Cody’s remained the standard, even as Borders got glitzy and became a mall store in college town clothing.
On my last visit to Cody’s (and how was I to know that it was to be the very last?) the checkout clerk, looking at what I had bought, engaged in a conversation that led to my buying William Maxwell’s “So Long See You Tomorrow.” The title of the book makes the loss of Cody’s all the more powerful. And of course the clerk ran circles around “readers who bought X also bought Y.”
Great bookstores are places where one can reliably expect to be in the presence of books and the people who love them. There should be one around every corner, and certainly one in every university town, and Cody’s is gone. Weeping and gnashing of teeth are in order.
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I just love this blog, but I wish Paul would write more often. I always look forward to a new post.
July 21, 2008 @ 2:22 pm
A late comment as this posting was just brought to my attention.
The closing of Cody’s was indeed a sad moment for anyone involved in the world of books. If Fred Cody had still been alive he might not have made some of the decisions that Andy Ross did and perhaps it could have hung on a bit longer but in the end consumers play a big hand in whether a good bookstore lives or dies and how much we hold dear a friendly bricks and mortar store or instant gratification, such as too many of us get with the use of Amazon. It starts with a random search and then ends tragically by pushing the button ADD TO SHOPPING CART: It’s all too easy and then we are lamenting the loss of the independent bookstore without realizing that we’ve played a very active role in putting our friends and neighbors out of business.
I believe that Karl Pohrt of Shaman Drum, our neighborhood independent bookstore would like nothing better than to walk into his store to see fathers and sons and whole families browsing his shelves, alas its off to the mall we go, or we push the button ADD TO SHOPPING CART we make this decision every day!
November 25, 2008 @ 12:17 pm
Ah, yes, the wonderful independent bookstores. Remember The Wooden Spoon Bookstore in AA? It was a whole intellectual experience just to browse there. And I still miss it when I walk to the Farmers’ Market. Well, not to wax too nostalgic here nor to be too defeatist, those of us who care can still work against the too-easy “convenience” of the push-button ADD TO SHOPPING CART mentality by remembering to make every effort to visit and support the remaining independent bookstores while there still are some around.
November 26, 2008 @ 8:36 am
The Wooden Spoon was before my time but thank goodness for Kerrytown! The one interesting neighborhood left or rejuvenated in Ann Arbor. Whole Saturday mornings can be consumed with the Farmers’ Market, getting a coffee, a little shopping at the Co-op, a browse in the used bookstore, running into friends’ and neighbors’, this is what defines community and the community should be celebrated and encouraged as often as possible!
November 26, 2008 @ 10:09 am