Why a Bookstore is a Perfect Refuge for Our Troubled Times

A shelter from the storm

As we finally start to emerge from the hardest, strangest year that most of us have ever experienced, the global focus is on immunization, and rightly so (get the shot if you haven’t yet). But while Pfizer and Moderna have a vaccine to protect us from COVID-19, there’s no magic injection for the psychological part of what we’ve all lived through. And while it may sound counterintuitive given that we’ve been isolated from each other for so long, what many of us need is a refuge.

One place has always been such a refuge, and one of the most frustrating aspects of quarantines and lockdowns is that we have been separated from these havens that we took for granted for so long. For book lovers, the place that has always been a shelter in the storm is the local bookstore, though too often we see it simply as a means to an end, the end being a place to get books. Bookstores are a marketplace, yes, but they are an oasis as well.

How exactly does a bookstore function as a refuge in the midst of the storm of chaos we face every day? The answer will differ somewhat for every individual, but some common factors make it such a refuge.

For those of you who remember the TV series Cheers, the tag line was: “sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name.” We crave community as humans, which is why the pandemic has been so devastating to us mentally and physically, and we can get that community in any number of places, from bars to baseball games. But we can’t get it in the same way we get it in a bookstore.

When you walk into a bookstore, the one thing that you know is that you are surrounded by people who read; otherwise, they wouldn’t be there buying books. The number of readers has always been small as a percentage of the population, and being around others who share your passion for books and reading, you instantly feel a sense of fraternity you can’t get most places. Though you may not know the person lingering in the science-fiction section, you do know that they’re a kindred spirit.

Before you roll your eyes, “kindred spirit” is not too strong a term. When is the last time you were anywhere other than a bookstore where, as you pulled down the item you were looking at, a total stranger standing next to you said, “I really loved that one!” and then started a discussion with you about why? That just doesn’t happen in other places.

I’ll bet that during the conversation about that book or that author (which will likely lead to a conversation about other books and other authors), some things definitely will not come up. They include religion, political beliefs, and pretty much any of the hot-button issues of the day. You’re not going to get into those things because you’re talking about books.

I’m not saying those things don’t matter to readers; of course, they do. But at that moment, you are talking about books, and it’s one of those rare moments of common ground we all need more of right now. It’s a brief respite from the garbage we are inundated with all day, every day.

The bookstore may be the last place left on earth where we feel comfortable sharing our opinion on something with a total stranger without fear of it erupting into gunfire. That, my friends, is a refuge.

You cynics and pot-stirrers out there may ask, “what if I happen to be standing in the politics section of the bookstore?” My reply is to get the hell out of the politics section. All you’ll find there is Marx (which is gibberish) and ghost-written autobiographies of current politicians. Get back to the literature section where you belong; it’s the only place where the authors tell the truth.

I mentioned the line from Cheers earlier about going somewhere where everybody knows your name. What happens if you’re alone in the store? Is it still a refuge? Absolutely, maybe even more so for some of us. But in reality, you are never completely alone in a bookstore. Consider the following hypothetical situation.

It’s pouring down rain. You have just endured a 2-hour commute from work through hail and lightning that normally takes 20 minutes. You are wound tighter than a piano string. You really need to unwind, but right now, a $10 margarita just isn’t going to do the trick. Almost on auto-pilot, your car ends up in the parking lot of your local indie bookstore, which because of the rain, is totally deserted except for you.

You jump out, trying in vain to stay dry and enter the store. After immediately feeling a sense of calm (and I dare you to walk into any bookstore at any time and not feel a sense of calm), you encounter the bookstore owner. If you’re a regular customer at your local indie (and you better be), that bookstore owner knows you. If you are there with any regularity, they’ve gotten to know you better than some of your friends do.

Part of that is good business because you want to know your customers. But it goes way beyond that. At a time when brick-and-mortar retail everywhere is dying, that lone face that greets you as you step in from the storm made a conscious choice to go into a segment of the retail industry that’s about as lucrative as opening a manual typewriter repair shop. They aren’t there for the money; they’re there for the books. And they’re there for you.

They are part of the refuge regardless of their personality, and there are as many different personalities of booksellers as there are bookstores. They run the gamut from super-sweet like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail to the surly, drunken, chain-smoking Bernard Black of Black Books. In fact, the more eccentric they are, the more fun they tend to be.

After spending all day in an office where your boss of ten years still calls you Bob even though your name is Stephen, having your local bookseller say, “Hey Stephen, I just got in a new novel from that Peruvian author you like so much” is a refuge indeed. Being around someone who cares enough to remember and keep an eye out for books you will enjoy goes beyond simple customer service.

There’s one last thing about the feeling of refuge a bookstore can give, and it ties back to that hypothetical rainstorm you just drove through. Consider the difference in how you felt between inching along blindly in a metal box versus being in a cozy shop surrounded by books as the storm rages outside. The rain itself hasn’t changed, but the bookstore has transformed it from a malevolent force seeking to kill you to a calming background sound as you wander the shelves.

Bookstores truly are a refuge available to all of us. Take some time this week to spend a few blissful moments in one yourself. You’ll be glad you did.

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