I was heading for my favourite bookshop in New York City; The Strand, in this case the smaller of the locations on Columbus Avenue on the Upper West Side. My son- in- law’s words were echoing in my ears: if we want to have good bookshops in our neighbourhood then we must use them. Indeed, obviously. However, the weight of my suitcase is always in my mind and the issue of luggage has saved me an awful lot of money over the past years.
The Strand is a delightful wander which I do every year but I have only just read about its history. A thoroughly family run business, it is now in its third generation of owners. The main shop is in lower Manhattan, an area I don’t go to very frequently but it is huge, selling rare, antiquarian books as well as those more modern. I think a visit will have to be on my list for next time. Amusingly, the shops are called the Strand because of the London street of that name. The family think it was a place frequented by famous writers e.g. Dickens, Pepys and Samuel Johnson. I wonder about the veracity but I like the thought.
Anyway, I did of course buy a book. A small, nicely produced hardback took my fancy, by a writer I enjoy: Claire Keegan. (see Readings.) I will admit to noting down 4 other titles that will probably be purchased in a weak moment on my iPad and I also bought a fridge magnet that says: I am a book hoarder. The word ‘hoarder’ is crossed out, replaced instead by ‘collector.’ I wonder about the veracity of that too!