antiquarian treasureJun 14 '00 Write an essay on this topic.With so many fantastic online book moguls, bestsellers are just a click away, and search engines make finding titles a breeze. Images and descriptions are conjured up in just moments. Discounts abound. Customized lists of reccommendations are clearly an electronic illusion of personal customer care and service, but delight nonetheless. Delicious eye-candy envelopes the whole experience, offering more products, more bargains, more services... a myriad of promises of newer, faster, better... newer, faster, better... I, for one, find all of this horribly appealing. Keyword: Updike. Why, yes, right there it is. And look, 30% off. What, free shipping, this week only? Well then by all means, add to shopping cart immediately. Look, there's that book of short stories, too. And, hmmm, how about a little DVD , while I'm at it? Yes – click – send to the usual address. Email confirmation arriving right about... now. Package arriving in 3-5 days. Whew. That was exhilarating. Not for one moment do I mean to condemn the delightful, quick-as-a-flash, never-leave-the-desk, one-click, online shopping experience. In fact, I think I myself have achieved Preferred status at Amazon.com. And yet, while this method of shopping clearly has its merits, my loyalties will forever be with the faintly musty, distinctly dusty, cluttered, dimly-lit antiquarian bookshops of the world. The online giants are great if you're looking for a French students' dictionary, a Penguin Classic, or you want to assemble a comparative list of current in-print Bible translations. But while paperbacks are certainly economical, they cannot compare to the aesthetics and sturdiness of a good cloth-bound, and you're unlikely to find a good copy of Aristotle's Metaphysics. Not only does the old bookshop have a certain undeniable charm, but it is also a veritable treasure-trove of high-quality classics and collectibles. Sure, you might have to squat, dig a little, even climb a ladder – you'll inevitably have to leave your desk chair – but where else can you find a beautiful old Dante or a nice, sturdy, hardback Anna Karenina? Where else can you discover your ardent interest in vintage mysteries or antique car manuals? Where else might you actually hold in your hands a first edition of Hemingway (albeit gingerly, unless you, unlike I, can afford the $3000 price tag)? Where else can you rediscover a copy of the lovely old fairy-tale book with watercolor illustrations that your grandmother used to read to you? Where else could you hope to run across that out-of-print favorite? An antiquarian bookstore offers you something no dot.com ever could (unless clicking "Search" gives you some sense of accomplishment): the opportunity to conduct your own hunt, and the chance to make your own fantastic discoveries. And all this with a fat cat likely to be wrapping itself about your ankles. Sure, if you need something specific, modern, fast, and easy, the conveniences of e-commerce probably have it a click or two away, just waiting for an address label with your name on it. But if you have the time, the curiousity, or the inclination, I highly reccommend finding the quiet, bookshelf-lined shop sure to be hiding somewhere in your area. It may not offer a free moccachino with your $20 purchase, it may be a bit cluttered, it may be completely unpredictable – but isn't there something refreshing... indeed, irresistably appealing... about that? So get out there. The good people at barnesandnoble.com will do fine without you just this once.  |
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