Introduction
The smell of bookshops is universal. It is the scent of paper and ink, of warmth and comfort. It smells like home. Whenever I feel homesick for my book community in St. Louis, I can visit a bookstore, and the smell transports me 4,000 miles away. My bookish friends jokingly call me a bibliophile, which is someone who loves to collect and read books. If you glance at my overflowing bookshelf and piles of books on the floor of my bedroom, you will see that this title is well-earned and I wear it proudly! Independent bookstores were fundamental to the current state of my room as well as my strong ties to the St. Louis book community. These shops are more than just places to buy books; they are community centers for local readers and offer valuable insight into the book community of that neighborhood or borough. They teach you valuable life lessons that impact your personal development. During my semester abroad, I delved into the London book community by visiting ten independent bookstores. I wanted to create a bridge between my love of books in my daily life in St. Louis and my study abroad experience in London. While I could write thousands of words for each spot I explored, I decided to highlight four of the most impactful independent bookstores. Throughout my exploration of London's bookstores, I have gained a better insight into London culture and a deeper understanding of the publishing industry.
The Bookstores
Hatchards
Hatchards is a very fitting way to start for two reasons. Not only is it the first bookstore I visited in London, but it is also the oldest bookshop in London, dating back to 1797. Hatchards welcomes you with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a beautiful wooden staircase, enticing you to explore the other four floors. While wandering aimlessly from religion to romance, I noticed how many grandparents and parents were book-shopping with young children. This was a cultural similarity that I did not expect when I began this project. My love of reading came from my grandmother and mother. They were the ones who first introduced me to public libraries and independent bookstores. They instilled those values in me at a young age, much like the Londoners in Hatchards. At the same time, there is this cultural difference found in the ages of the independent bookstores in St. Louis and London. The oldest independent bookstore in St. Louis - Left Bank Books - was founded in 1969. My favorite bookstore is Novel Neighbor, and they were founded in 2014. These stores are young compared to Hatchards. This made me reflect on how the history of the St. Louis book community is inaccessible to my generation because so many older independent bookstores are no longer open. While in London, one could shop in Hatchards for their entire life and pass down this bookstore to their children and grandchildren. While sitting curled up in a comfortable chair on the second floor of Hatchards, I realized that I had never asked my grandmother or mother where they shopped for books as children. Now, I know that many independent bookstores in St. Louis have closed down in recent years, especially in the neighborhoods my grandmother and mother grew up in. Hatchards taught me that if we are to carry on the legacy of our loved ones in the book community, we must know them, their stories, and their local independent bookstores (even if they are just memories now). If their bookstores are open today, it is our duty and obligation to protect them and maintain them for our children. Hatchards is a great example for St. Louis about the importance of preserving independent bookstores for future generations.
Gay’s the Word
One of my funniest moments in London happened in Waterstones. I was chatting with a friend about a book display and she jokingly said, "I wonder how much money the publishing company paid to have Waterstones put that up". An employee walked by and said, "A lot!". While it is a hilarious moment, it reveals the truth about the bookstore industry. In so many major chain bookstores, everything from the window displays to themed bookends is controlled by the publishing companies. The local Londoners in stores like Waterstones or Foyles get very little input on what novels are spotlighted. However, in independent stores, the voices of the booksellers are the focal point. I go to independent bookstores because I want to hear from real people. I experienced the loudest voices in Gay's the Word. Gay's the Word was founded in 1979 as a safe haven for the queer community and their allies to connect over a shared love of reading. I want to highlight this bookstore because St. Louis does not have any queer-focused bookshops. It is usually just a small section (sometimes hidden in the back) or books found sprinkled into other genres, causing the reader to go on a scavenger hunt throughout the store. Something that surprised me about Gay's the Word is the welcoming environment that is offered to each reader who steps out of the rainy London weather and into this warm little bookshop. My favorite part was the little hand-written plaques scattered throughout the store. From memoirs to romance novels to queer theory texts, they highlighted booksellers' and local readers' book recommendations. Even British strangers were chatting with me about their favorite novels written by queer British citizens because they felt emboldened by the plaques. I discovered a plethora of novels that I have never seen displayed at a Waterstones or my local Barnes and Noble. A warm connection sparks when you share your favorite book with a new friend. Gay's the Word taught me that independent bookstores create this environment by amplifying and honoring the voices of their local employees. Even when major chains copy these plaques, how can we fully trust what they are saying? We must invest in the voices of independent bookstores like Gay's the Word because they are authentic and we can feel the emotion behind them.
The Poetry Pharmacy
I must confess that I did not enjoy or understand the appeal of poetry before coming to London. I found it needlessly hard to understand, mind-numbingly boring, and impersonal. As an English major, I read a little poetry for my classes, although I never seek it outside the classroom. I visited The Poetry Pharmacy because it was a recommendation from a new British friend (yes, she does love poetry). The Poetry Pharmacy was built on the idea that the poetry one reads has a profound impact on one's mood. To accomplish this, their London booksellers pick bite-sized pieces of poetry that follow a common theme and put them in pills to offer as a type of "prescription". Hidden above the hustle and bustle of Oxford Street, the shop instantly calms its patients with its friendly staff, a curated selection of poetry, and an old wooden medicine cabinet filled with bottled prescriptions. While reading some of the poetry in the bottle I bought, I was struck by how many of the poets were from London. London has a rich literary history, specifically in poetry. Thousands of poets have called London home and taken the city as inspiration for their work. The Poetry Pharmacy introduced me to this hidden part of London's literature by encouraging me to engage in British poetry in a unique way. Each piece of poetry connected me to a new place in London and inspired me to view these places differently. For example, I read T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land on London Bridge because he specifically calls out this bridge in his poems. While reading, his work became so much more tangible and poignant. This also caused me to go hunting for poets' blue plaques spread across London. London's blue plaques are fund by English Heritage, who work to highlight the notable people who have lived and worked in London. Because I was chasing after poets from Elizabeth Barrett to Oscar Wilde, I found myself visiting parts of the city that I would never have gone to on my own. The Poetry Pharmacy motivated me to visit the places where these authors lived while writing poetry about London. They encouraged me to dive deeper into the poetry. The Poetry Pharmacy taught me about the important relationship between literature and London (as well as helping me see the value of poetry).
Word on the Water
There is a saying in St. Louis that you can get almost anywhere in the city in about 35 minutes by car. This joke highlights the essential nature of having a car and being able to drive to live in St. Louis. It is especially important if you want to visit independent bookstores. For context, Main Street Books is the closest independent bookstore to my house, and it is located 25 minutes away. Novel Neighbor is a grueling 40 minutes and includes driving on four different highways. Unlike St. Louis, London's independent bookstores are extremely accessible by foot. In St. Louis, the independent bookstores are spread out from other restaurants, stores, or entertainment. However, in London, you can walk down the street and discover a new independent bookstore. Funny enough, but that was exactly how I found Word on the Water for the first time. I'm not sure if I would have explored Word on the Water if I had not been walking around the area after visiting the British Library. It is a bookshop situated on a boat in Regent's Canal. Something very special about Word on the Water is that one cannot physically access this independent bookstore by car. You must travel down a stone staircase and walk along the riverside to reach the boat. This spotlights how important foot traffic is for independent bookstores in London because London is such a walkable city. Because everyone drives in St. Louis, independent bookstores do not depend on people just stumbling into the store after work or out shopping for groceries. We have to be very intentional to access independent bookstores in St. Louis. In London, walking plays an important role in independent bookstores reaching new customers (including myself). There is a poetic beauty in being able to constantly discover a new independent bookstore just by walking. London's independent bookstores are magical places that one can just discover by happenstance, much like the closet in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Word on the Water taught me how much walking has a role in so many aspects of London life, including the book community and independent bookstores.
Conclusion
It can be so easy to never venture past your chain bookstores. They are convenient, readily accessible, and quick. However, chain bookstores are not an accurate reflection of a city, especially in a city like London. Independent bookstores are the heart and soul of London's book community. They teach non-natives valuable lessons about the city, its people, and its culture. London's independent bookstores also have given me so much during my time exploring. I have engaged in meaningful conversations with countless British readers throughout the semester. Former strangers are now close friends that I hope to carry on long after my feet have left London. I have become a better blog writer through my exploration because I have encountered new authors who inspire me to try different writing techniques and continue to develop my skills. I read books that I never would have picked out on my own, which pushes me to diversify my bookshelves. London's independent bookstores also made me challenge what it means to be a bibliophile. A bibliophile needs to be conscious of where they are buying their books because our money is a tool we can use to support independent bookstores. This is a call to action for all bibliophiles out there. Independent bookstores are dying off. Notice how many chains populate the streets of London. Our buying habits are a reflection of what we love, and we should use our money to uplift independent bookstores that accurately portray the city they are situated in. For me, this call to action means supporting independent bookstores in London, a city that has given me so much these past four months. At each of the bookstores I wrote about, I have a book to take home with me as a keepsake, as well as to say thank you for helping with this paper and giving me a new view of London. They are the best souvenirs a bibliophile could ask for!