The Anatomy of a (Mon)Dragon

When you first enter Mondragon, you do not actually enter the physical store. Instead, you enter a long hallway that leads up into the apartments. The hallway is lined with books. If you remember from my last post, this is the hallway in which people take free magazines, post flyers for local events, and sometimes take the occasional book or two for reading when the store is closed. The front door to Mondragon sits among these shelves of books like the teeth to the mouth of a dragon.

 

You enter the store and enter the “Front Room” (as labelled by Sarajane). Like the hallway, it is cluttered with books. Everywhere your eye can see, there is most likely a book. Except when there’s not. When there’s not, there is art from local artists or a record player that exudes the sounds of jazz. To your right is where the worker sits, usually surrounded by books. And then in a little corner of the Front Room is a free coffee nook. You can take a mug and pour some coffee or hot water for tea and add whatever you like to make your coffee exactly the way you wish.

***

Just beyond the coffee nook is a hallway. There are three options to go down. There is the “Side Room,” the bathroom, and the “Middle Room.” You go to the Side Room and see, again, a cluttering of books and art. In front of you is a bench and table. To your left there is a hole in the wall. This bookshop used to be a doctor’s office and the Side Room used to be where the receptionists would sit. As you peruse the selection of books, you notice that they mostly deal with international history. When you start travelling on your right side, you start with US History from the beginning. As you move along, you get to the International History section. This section takes up the largest wall in this room. The next section of books you hit then is the Economics section. Before you know it, you are back in the hallway.

***

You continue into the Middle Room. As usual, this room is packed with books, more so than the rest due to the island in the middle of the room housing their Shakespeare collection. The amount of books in this room may intimidate you, so you decide to check out half of the collection of books in this room before you head on over to the room full of novels. As you do this, you see a selection of plays from various playwrights throughout history. And before you head into the hall, you stop to look at a small wall of books covering film and media.

You step into the hall and see a small bookshelf covering a miscellaneous selection of genres from sports to literary criticism to comedy.

***

You finally find the “Back Room.” The Back Room has a lot of books but surprisingly not as many as the other rooms. One and a quarter walls are covered with fiction top to bottom. Rare copies of fiction are placed at the top of the shelves to be displayed. Three quarters of another wall is a mixture of nonfiction, poetry, and literary criticism. At the end of this grouping of books, on a table by the window, sits a table with baskets of records of many genres and a variety of sizes. Looking through the fiction section, you find books that you have seen before or heard of before. You pick up the ones that have been recommended to you.

***

Leaving the Back Room, you go back down the hallway, but now from a different angle. You can see the Front Room through the cut out where the register sits.

You enter the Middle Room again, but now, the room seems less full than before. This time, you venture to the sections that you missed. You pass the LGBTQ/ Women/ Africana/ Indiginous Studies section. This section is larger than you expected; most used book stores don’t carry a section on diversity specifically. On the same wall, there are sections on Culture, Philosophy, and Art. And finally, there is a small collection of Graphic Novels. If you do not know where to look, you might miss them. This section is the smallest and in a tiny bookcase under a window. You have never heard of most of the Graphic Novels in this section. But, there are some that look really interesting to you.

***

By the time you return to the tiny hallway between the three first rooms, you realize you have finished drinking your coffee and have been done for a while. You make a stop in the bathroom to drop your mug off in the washing basket.

You then reenter the Front Room and realize you have missed so many books in this room. As a matter of fact, you have missed walls of books. When you explore, you find a section on Agriculture and Gardening, Cooking, Music Theory, and a small section on Birth/Life/Sex/Death which is mostly a tiny religious/ spiritual section. While in the Front Room, Tiger will probably snuggle up to you as you sit and look through the sections.

You buy the books you want after having a pleasant conversation with the owner about gardening and/or books and/or Tiger. Like that, you exit the store the way you came in.

***

Mondragon has a large, large, collection of books. As stated in previous posts, this collection is made up entirely of donated books from people in the surrounding area. Benjamin’s idea of a collection of books is particularly interesting, especially when analyzing Mondragon. Benjamin says, “The period, the region, the craftsmanship, the former ownership– for a true collector the whole background of an item adds up to a magic encyclopedia whose quintessence is the fate of his object.” (Benjamin 60). While Mondragon may not sell their rare books in store, every book feels rare in the way they are marketed. First, the experience of browsing allows the consumer to find treasures within the store, like the Graphic Novel section. Mondragon does not have the newest books coming out of the press, but what they do have are books with a history. In some books you can see the yellowing of the page, pen markings of certain sections, or the wear and tear on the bottom of a book from being taken on and off shelves. When a consumer shops used, they shop the history of the book. Like I said in my previous post, Mondragon feels like a shrine to books. But, along with being a shrine, it also destroys books. Sarajane categorizes and picks out books specifically to be used for craft nights in which people take apart a book and use it to create art. This art can be seen all around the store. This complicates Benjamin’s position before because, in a way, this destruction of books is a destruction of a collection. I am continually mystified by people who worship the physical object. Bookriot, a website for the modern bookworm, reported on the destruction of books in an article called, “Books Are Not Sacred Objects.” In this article they argue that books are simply an object. They quote Rachel Fehrschleiser, an editor in Big Six publishing,

“They used words like ‘sacred’ and ‘deface’ and ‘murder.’ My best guess is that these people have little experience working in a bookstore, library, or publishing house. Books are made from wood pulp. If they don’t sell, to wood pulp they return.” (Schinsky).

This goes back to an important part of Mondragon’s identity. Mondragon is a store that is conscientious to world politics and environmental conservation. With this destruction of books, they reduce, reuse, and recycle. Their stock is in a constant state of renewal. In my group’s interview with Sarajane, she told us that her office is cluttered with donated books that she simply cannot put out due to the large volume of books already in the store. This process of recycling books helps create more room in the sore, reduce waste in dumps, and still worships the book, but in a different way.

_________

MAP

Map courtesy of Sarajane Snyder.

IMAGES

Photos courtesy of Richard Berwind

SOURCES

Benjamin, Walter. “Illuminations.” Schocken Books: New York.

Schinsky, Rebecca J. “Books Are Not Sacred Objects.” BOOK RIOT, Riot New Media Group, 20 Aug. 2012, bookriot.com/2012/08/20/books-are-not-sacred-objects/.

Snyder, Sarajane. Personal interview. 22 February 2019.

Square Books Space: Floor by Floor Evolution

Square Books, in all its glory.

           The sun is shining, and a calm breeze blows past me as I stand within Courthouse square, located in Oxford, Mississippi. My eyes glance from the Lafayette Courthouse, to the orange, aged building before me; Square Books. The building itself looks spotless, as if it were only there for not even a decade, even though it’s probably older than most. While the building isn’t a skyscraper, it stands tall at three stories. I can see within the window display a sign welcoming any and all who pass the location. In reality, I am sitting atop a comfy computer chair, staring at a zoomed-in version of Google-Maps, with a succulent PBR next to me. Virtually, however, the confines are what we consider place, are distorted, and I am standing right in the heart of Lafayette County. In exploring the independent bookstore that is Square Books, it is important to always pay attention to what each section adds to the overall definition of the stores individual space, and place.

BEFORE READING ON..

           Before stepping foot in any bookstore, let alone any establishment whatsoever, it is important to understand that there is a certain bias to the store itself. Staying in terms of independent bookstores, every single bookstore has an owner, who themselves have their own opinions on literature. As renowned book-collector Walter Benjamin, in his piece Illuminations, every collector has a passion for literature, and said passion “borders on the chaotic” (Benjamin 60). While bigger bookstore chains may have a wider pool to choose from, independent bookstores rely on the collecting of books by a small group of individuals. Selections may vary, and border on the line of obsession. Remember, though, it’s healthy.


 1. The Ground Floor: A Face Full of the South

           The ground floor of a bookstore, in terms of individual expression, shows off the heart of what that specific bookstore entails. Walking into Square Books, at first glance, my eyes quickly skim the surrounding environment. There are intricate carpets amongst the floor, as well as bookshelves as far as the eye can see. Peering at the massive bookshelf on the other side of the bookstore, one can tell how significant “Mississippi Literature” is to Square Books, as it encompasses of the wall. Apart from having its own section, another section of the ground floor is dedicated to“Mississippi Mysteries”, which encompasses mystery novels written by Mississippian authors. Just from looking at these sections alone, one can surmise that the identity of Southern literature—specifically Mississippian literature—is quintessential to the independent bookstore’s identity. Apart from the southern literature, the ground floor itself encompasses a wide variety of texts, such as “Just-in Hardcovers”, and even a section on business. From an entry level glance, Square Books as a place is deeply rooted within Southern literature, yet it offers literature that includes other audiences.There are two staircases that lead to the second level of Square Books, both having artistic steps labeled with the sections that reside at the upper levels of the store.

The rugs guide you throughout the store.

2. The Second Floor: An Ode to Things Forgotten

           In terms of hierarchy, the second floor can be described as “second best”, or rather what is considered the middle-tier of literature. Square Book’s infrastructure, however, does not entail a second floor, but rather a narrow hallway with several bookshelves, overlooking the ground floor. Subjects such as “Religion”, “Sexuality”, and “Philosophy” can be found within narrow walkway between two staircases. The space itself is small, which causes me to perceive the bookstore as not deeming those subjects as important as the other categories in the store. Instead, they have tucked them neatly aside, away from the main gaze of their audience. The works of Foucault, and Camus, are in a manner of speaking forgotten amongst the sea of literature that Square Books possesses.

           Consider, though, the addition that the overlook of the store adds to the definition of Square Book’s place. If the hallway isn’t crowded, one can stand freely, and look out onto the rest of the other occupants of the store, in an anthropological game of sorts. Imagine for a second viewing people walking around the store, and picking out Mississippian mysteries. You can see the type of people that choose certain types of literature, as well as what demographic of individuals frequent the store. While it may seem strange, in this addition of self-reflection, Square Books grows as a place. It is a bookstore that you can not only peruse literature, but also a hub of literary culture, that allows for a special ocular analysis.

The view is breathtaking, to say the least.

3. The Third Floor: Faulkner, and Food

           As with the other floors in the conception of space hierarchy, the third floor signifies the area which should encompass the crème de la crème, or the best of the best. I am met with “Sociology” on my left, and “Music”, “Poetry”, “African-American literature”, “Nature”, and “Science” to my far left. In my own opinion most of these subjects deserve to be at the top, however the order by which they are categorized has left me in a questionable state. Why is “Sociology” the first bookshelf I see? Why are “Nature” and “Science” on opposite sides of the same bookshelf? Furthermore, why is “Nature” at the top of the bookstore, whereas “Philosophy” is only on the second floor? Obviously, Square Books as a place must value Nature above Philosophy, which isn’t necessarily a negative attribute to have. It does however assist in defining where Square Books places emphasis.

The best photograph that could be found of the questionably categorized bookshelves.

           Walking past the questionably ordered bookshelves, as well as the wide exit/entrance staircase, I find myself standing within a cafe within a bookstore. And it isn’t even a Starbucks! The cafe doesn’t take up a majority of the third floor, and even has seating for those who care to chat and drink coffee while they read. As a place, Square Books offers not only literature, but an environment in which one can eat, and interact socially with others. The walls of the cafe, which act as walls for the room past it, are lined with “On Writing”, “Literary Non-Fiction” and “Southern Studies”.

           It is past the cafe, inside of the smaller section where the true treasure of Square Books lies. To my right, I can vividly make out a large display entitled “Faulkner”, where the owner has consciously ordered all of Faulkner’s works into one corner of the floor. Not only do his works garner their own section in Square books, but literature that critiques his own work have their own section as well, appropriately located on the bookshelf right next to it.

Faulkner: King of Oxford, Ms

           Let us take another approach to understanding the attraction that is the Faulkner corner. As Clifford states, in his piece “On Collecting Art and Culture”, a bookstore acts in an ethnographic fashion, as each individual bookshelf acts as “diverse experiences and facts” that are “selected, gathered, detached from their original temporal occasions, and given enduring value in a new arrangement” (Clifford 231). In both collecting, and displaying the works of Faulkner in a special manner, Richard Howarth, owner of Square Books, has detached Faulkner from his original time period, and has instead acts as a new arrangement.  Faulkner acts as an emblem for Square Books, as he emphasizes the literary side of Oxford, Ms in its entirety.


Sources

Written

Benjamin, Walter. “Unpacking My Library.” Illuminations. Ed. Hannah Arendt. Trans. Harry Zohn. N.p.: n.p., n.d. 59-67. Print.

Clifford, James. “On Collecting Art and Culture.”

Floor Layouts

Thinglink.com

 

 

Change and Permanence: Space and Objects in Gotham Book Mart

Space and Objects: An Evolution

The evolution of Gotham Book Mart (GBM) can be observed through examining the way in which the space of its locations, and the objects that inhabited these spaces, changed over time. More specifically, in this post I am going to compare GBM’s first location in the theater district to its third location on 47th St by observing the ways in which space and objects defined the store’s approach to book selling and the way in which it fostered a community of people passionate about books and literature.

A Cozy, Humble Shop

Prior to Frances Steloff opening GBM in 1920, she had had experience in the world of publishing but very little background in business and book selling. As a result, her venture into the world of book selling was an experiment, one that took a number of trials and errors in order for her to become successful. From the start, Steloff faced issues of space and inventory with the shop. For starters, the shop itself was not very large, which limited Steloff’s options for managing the space. Additionally, Steloff’s initial inventory of books was small, especially for a store where the primary products were books. Steloff, however, was able to overcome these challenges. Though her space was limited, she was able to use the shop’s cozy, humble atmosphere to her advantage. The shop was furnished to feel like a homey nook where the customer went not solely to purchase a product, but to enjoy the literature that she was purchasing. The front room contained “shelves, [a] fireplace flanked by two glass-enclosed cases,…and [a] long table running down the middle” (Rodgers 77), as well as “a rocker, three straight chairs, a typewriter with an oilcloth hood, a few framed pictures” (60). Steloff transformed the humble space into a homey, welcoming environment. As Benjamin declares of book collectors—which I believe is aptly applicable to booksellers—Steloff was developing “a relationship to objects which does not emphasize their functional, utilitarian value…but studies and loves them as the scene, the stage, of their fate” (Benjamin 60). Steloff was no longer simply selling a product but an experience. The challenges associated with GBM’s limited stock of books were also circumvented through Steloff’s style of running the shop. Steloff allowed customers to peruse her collection of books at their discretion, and did not attempt to direct the traffic of customers. The space of the shop reflects this: there are no aisles to confine the customer, but rather an open space in which the customer can roam at her leisure. Steloff understood that, as a novice book seller, she had a lot to learn from her customers and their tastes, so she let them navigate through the shop as they pleased. GBM’s customer base at its first location, which was in the heart of the theater district, was largely made up of people associated with the stage; as a result, Steloff began to stock dramatic literature and texts related to theater. Due to “her customers educat[ing] her,” writes Rodgers, “not preference but haphazard pressures1 turned her into a specialist in two profitable fields: art and theater” (74). Steloff’s customer’s responded favorably to her effort to adapt to their tastes. Rodgers relays the following anecdote in support of this: “A handsome young fellow stood staring into her three by three front window…He spoke first: ‘How much for the theater costume book spread open in her display case?’ It was her most expensive single volume. She hardly dared to answer: ‘It’s fifteen dollars.’” Despite the steep price, the young man purchased the whole collection without hesitation.
Mastery of the Trade

Comparing the space of GBM’s first location in the theater district to its third, and most successful, location on 47th St draws sharp contrasts. The shop on 47th St “had about three times as much space” (Rodgers 179) as the second location, which itself was much larger than the first location. This larger space, combined with the twenty-five years of book selling experience that Steloff accrued prior to moving to 47th St., afforded her greater creative control over the stock, space, and layout of the shop than ever before. Compared to when she first opened GBM, Steloff’s relationship with the customer had achieve a sort of balance: she still paid attention to the taste of the customer, but it no longer dictated the space and inventory of the shop—rather, Steloff was able to exercise her impact and influence to help shape customer’s taste in return. The space of the store on 47th St., unlike the first location, was divided into aisles that were flanked with bookshelves. This arrangement of bookshelves gave the store on 47th St. a greater sense of “place” by “carving out ‘permanences’ from the flow of processes creating spatio-temporality” (Cresswell 57). These “permanences”—or bookshelves—were “not eternal but always subject to time as ‘perpetually perishing’” (Cresswell 57)—i.e., the books on the shelves were constantly being sold, restocked, and updated. The customer could still roam at her leisure, but the aisles and categorization inventory directed the traffic of the shop. For example, Steloff devoted a bookshelf at the front of the store to small literary magazines and up-and-coming authors’ first works—her way of promoting literature that her customers may not be familiar with but that deserves attention.

In addition to manipulating the internal structure of the store, Steloff took advantage of the back courtyard to hold readings and garden parties to promote new publications and foster a strong community that bonded over books. Steloff was not shy about applying structural ‘permanences’ to the space of the courtyard as well: as opposed to leaving an open space for people to mingle freely while socializing, she constructed rows of tables displaying books to circumscribe and border the interactions.

Steloff’s ambitions to shape the perspective of those who came in contact with GBM was not limited to customers who physically entered the store. Rather, Steloff was willing to use the space and objects of her store to make an impression on the world outside. For example, the front display window often contained controversial literature, which was meant to intrigue and provoke passersby. GBM was also known for carrying banned or censored literature, which eventually drew the attention of the authorities and resulted in a run-in with the law for GBM. From the arrangement of bookshelves to the acts of protest against censorship, the evolution of GBM from its inception through its hey-day reflects the way in which space and objects—concepts that we hardly consider on a day-to-day basis, and when we do, think of as innocuous—can have a major impact on the world within and without.

 

 

1I.e., the tastes and whims of her customers.

 

 

Works Cited
Benjamin, Walter, Hannah Arendt, and Harry Zohn. Illuminations. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1968. Print.
Cresswell, Tim. Place: A Short Introduction. Malden, MA: Blackwell Pub., 2004. Print.
Rogers, W. G. Wise Men Fish Here: The Story of Frances Steloff and the Gotham Book Mart. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1965.               Print.

 

On the Shelves of Gotham Book Mart

Gotham Book was always a traditionally small and cozy space. The very first location was a brownstone basement and Steloff would put books outside for customers to look at and to entice them inside. The inventory of that location involved into mostly theater and costume books because of the clientele, which started Gotham Book Mart off on its reputation for having rare and hard to find books available. The second location was much larger, though still cramped inside, as the space was packed with books and the aisles were narrow in order to fit as many shelves as possible. In the second location, there was a backyard and garden space where Steloff would hold parties and talks, with tables for outdoor book displays. I’m going to focus on Gotham’s Diamond District location, 41 West 47th Street, which is where the shop spent the majority of its time.

In 1946, Gotham Book Mart moved a few minutes away from its previous location to a new, bigger space. The new building didn’t have a backyard, but it had a back room and multiple stories that Steloff could make use of. In the book In Touch With Genius she talks of how many of her customers didn’t even realize she was in a new location, due to it being so close to the old one. Instead, they just remark about how she’d widened the aisles and added a back room.

Gotham Book Mart specialized in rare books that were difficult to obtain, and that stayed true throughout its moves. Steloff organized her stock into three basic categories: new, secondhand, and rare. The experimental writers were kept separate on the shelves from the more traditional writers and there was a section for first editions as well. On the ground floor of the building, there was a back room filled with shelves on which rested the rare books. There was also a locked case that contained especially rare and fragile books, and the customers weren’t allowed to handle those books without an employee looking over them. In the corner of the back room, there was a Buddha statue and a bronze bust of James Joyce done by Jo Davidson and autographed in the original clay by Joyce himself. Most of the things in the room were on wheels or were collapsible so that they could be easily moved out of the room and folding chairs could be moved in the case of a lecture or reading being held there.

The cellar was off limits to non-staff and contained Gotham Book Mart’s overflow stock and books that Steloff was holding on to until they could be sold, since there was not a return policy with the publishers until later and Steloff was fond of holding onto books until there was a desire for them. This book storage cellar was generally referred to as “the cellar”. The second floor of the shop was a gallery where Gotham Book Mart would display various artists’ pieces and hold exhibitions. The James Joyce Society also held meeting in the second floor gallery after it was founded. Steloff lived in an apartment on the third floor, which had French doors leading out to a balcony that faced and overlooked 47th street. After her death, the third floor apartment was converted into a rare books room. The fourth floor was likely used for further storage, and the fifth floor became the living quarters for Andreas Brown, to whom Steloff had sold the store at that point.

Sources don’t really go into specifics about what genres graced the shelves of Gotham Book Mart, just that they were generally rare and secondhand books, as well as new books by unknown of little known authors. I imagine that there were still a number of theater or costume books left over from Steloff’s time in the theater district, as well as some titles deemed obscene that Steloff defended. In her memoir, she mentions a man coming in and looking for a book with an illustration of a specific stained glass pattern, which, after looking through several books of stained glass illustrations, he was able to find. She also stocked small literary magazines and new publications from poets and authors that she felt deserved recognition and that she wanted to help. These were usually displayed towards the front of the store in her other locations, so I assume that it would be the same in the 41 West 47th Street location. After Steloff’s death and Brown took over running Gotham Book Mart, the stock changed slightly. The store still specialized in rare and secondhand books, but they also branched out into other merchandise, such as T-shirts that were sold in conjunction with gallery showings for different artists.

Something Benjamin talks about in his article, Unpacking My Library, is that things have value, but the value that it has comes from the person inspecting it or possessing it. Things are only valuable if people want them, which is something Steloff knew. This principle was mostly the reason beh

ind her buying up the last of someone’s print run and keeping them for years until someone came in who wanted them and who would buy them. Instead of putting these books on the shelves as soon as she obtained them and not getting a lot of money for them, she would instead wait until they became a little more difficult to find or perhaps until the authors was better known and people wanted to read their earlier works. By waiting for the value people placed on these books to increase, Steloff could get more money for them, so they also became more valuable to her as time went by. The idea of having a responsibility to your books or to your collection can also be applied to Gotham Book Mart, especially the rare books that customers weren’t allowed to handle without supervision. Gotham had a responsibility to protect these rare and sometimes fragile books and it was also the customer’s responsibility to treat these books well and to protect them.

Gotham Book Mart, even in its larger locations, was always jammed full of books, with books filling the shelves, stacked on top of the shelves and on tables between the shelves. It exuded a cozy atmosphere and surrounded the customer with literature and pictures of literary figures, so that he customer was completely immersed in books and in literature.

 

Sources

Text

Benjamin, Unpacking My Bookstore

Frances Steloff, In Touch With Genius

Web

http://www.newyorkboundbooks.com/2013/08/19/wise-men-fish-here/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gotham_Book_Mart

http://www.nytimes.com/2001/07/24/arts/literary-fishing-hole-gets-a-for-sale-sign-bookshop-seeking-less-chaotic-home.html

http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2002/05/13/020513ta_talk_sheehan

Images

http://www.flashpointmag.com/butecam3.htm

http://lynngilbert.wordpress.com