We Are Dancing Animals
Top Shelf #6 (06.17.24)
Something I’ve been thinking a lot about during the last 6 1/2 weeks of owning a bookstore is this: why do we need independent bookstores? What’s the point? When you can click a button and a book shows up on your front stoop the next day (or the next hour), what’s up with these little shops with books?
Why?
What I’ve seen over the last 6 1/2 week is that the fundamental difference is human involvement. When someone buys a book from Amazon, generally they’re going online to get a specific book. They look it up—it takes three to five seconds. They find it. They click the buy button. The whole process could be done in 30 seconds. The next day, the book magically appears in a little cardboard box.
No human interaction needed. Nothing unpredictable. Nothing magical or unexpected. Just click. Click. Click. Arrive.
That’s a lot of nothing.
But when someone buys a book from a bookstore?
They have to take time to go there, or at least to message us . . . time equals commitment and investment. There is value in exploring books with another human.
A friend of mine, John Blase, shared this on Instagram the other day (at least I think it was John . . . sorry if it wasn’t you, John):
Kurt Vonnegut tells his wife he’s going out to buy an envelope:
“Oh, she says, well, you’re not a poor man. You know, why don’t you go online and buy a hundred uevenleopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I’m going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope. I meet a lot of people. And see some great looking babies. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And I’ll ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don’t know. The moral of the story is—we’re here on Earth to fart around. And of course, the computers will do us out of that. And what the computer people don’t realize, or don’t care, is we’re dancing animals. You know, we love to move around. And it’s like we’re not supposed to dance anymore.”
We’re here to fart around.
The computers will do us out of that.
It’s like we’re not supposed to dance anymore.
A woman came into the store who had an upcoming trip and wanted to buy a book to take with her, so she started telling Maile about the kinds of books she likes. Lighter reads, but also with an edge of darkness.
The two of them wandered the shelves for a bit, Maile pointing out a title here or there, but nothing quite hit the mark.
Then Maile remembered the small stash of books we keep under the front desk, a few favorites we only break out if we think they’ll be perfect (we stole this idea from I Cheerfully Refuse).
(If you ever want to know what’s there, just come into the store and ask what we’ve got behind the desk. It changes from time to time.)
Maile pulled out the book I Am the Messenger by Marcus Zusak, a laugh-out-loud funny book that is easy to read but also goes deep (and somewhat dark) in its exploration of the sadness of some people’s everyday lives.
I can promise you with 99% certainty that this woman never would have come upon this book without Maile’s recommendation. Yet there it is, a beautiful book, a wonderful story, going out into someone else’s hands.
Finding the right book for someone is very much like a dance.
We’re dancing animals.
I know, I know . . . some of you are wondering when I’m going to get to the book part of Top Shelf.
Here we go: three books I’ve read recently and think you should too.
Trust is Hernan Diaz’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel about Andrew Bevel and his wife Mildred, whose story unfolds in four different narratives as the book progresses—first, in a novel (within the book) that was based on their lives; second, from Andrew’s perspective; third, from one of his assistants he brought in to help retell his life story; and, finally, from the perspective of Mildred.
Trust is fascinating. I loved the opening voice, found Andrew’s first-person narrative in part two rather staid and pompous (I’m sure it was intended, but it did lose my interest a bit), and then raced through the final two parts.
It’s a story about perspective, power, and who gets to tell the stories of our lives. Who is telling the truth about the lives of Andrew and Mildred? Was she insane? Who was responsible for their success? Highly recommended.
Trust is available in hard cover for $28.00.
While we vacationed in Florida last week, it rained. Day after day. We squeaked in a few trips to the beach and pickle ball games with the kids (also, sometimes, in the rain), but on the stormy days we made the most of it by eating lots of ice cream (shout out to Jeni’s and Orange Octopus), playing board games, and watching Alone.
We also visited a few bookstores.
One such independent bookstore in downtown Sarasota is called Bookstore1, a beautifully laid out book-Mecca filled with kind employees and so many books. Scott in particular was a joy to speak with and has threatened to come visit us in Lancaster.
While we were there, I noticed a book that had a description as being one that the entire staff recommended. Done. I bought it and read it in a few days. The book is called Dayswork by Chris Bachelder and Jennifer Habel, and I’ve never read anything like it.
Written in short, isolated paragraphs, the narrator tells the story of her exploration into the life of Herman Melville. Yes, the Moby Dick guy. And you get small glimpses into the narrator’s life, but for the most part it’s kind of a biography . . . except when it isn’t.
If you have any interest in that period of American authors (think Hawthorne and Dickinson), or Moby Dick, or how biographers decide what to include (and what not to include . . . and what’s true . . . and what’s probably not true), I would definitely check this one out.
There’s also a sweetness to it, as it’s written while this tiny family is in isolation during Covid, all trying to do what they need to do to get through it, and their interactions are so plain and everyday and relatable. I wish she would have explored that element of the story a bit more.
Dayswork is available in hardcover for $26.95.
The last book for today is one I had the honor of reading and endorsing. This is what I wrote about it:
“While so many in our world are concerned with self-preservation, this book encourages us to see the isolated among us and extend a hand of love. Sarah’s words are a beautiful invitation into a different way of being.”
The book is The Way of Belonging by Sarah E. Westfall. It’s part memoir, part exploration of belonging, community, loneliness, and awareness.
“No one is a stranger to loneliness. Despite how social we are via text, chat, and notifications, we are far from being truly connected. We all want someone else to really see us and choose us for who we are. We want a place to finally fit in. But what if finding the right people or the right place is not the answer?”
Available in paperback for $18.00
And while you’re here, if you’d like to purchase both The Way of Belonging AND Lore Wilbert ’s new book, The Understory, we’re running a special—both books for $33.
To order these books, or any other book on your mind, or to ask any book questions you might have, email us your order at hello@nooks.gallery. All orders over $25 receive free shipping. Our deepest thanks to those of you who buy your books from us—every single order that comes through is so exciting! And you help keep the dream of a our independent bookstore alive.
Join us for some upcoming events at Nooks!
A conversation with Ned Bustard and Douglas McKelvey, creators of Every Moment Holy!
An evening with Christie Purifoy, author of Garden Maker and Placemaker!
An afternoon with Auntie Anne Beiler, founder of Auntie Anne Soft Pretzels, where we’ll talk about her new cookbook and the childhood stories that go with them!
What have you read recently that has knocked your socks off?
Why do you think independent bookstores should exist?
I love bookstores because the people who work there love books. Maybe that's a "duh" statement, but walking into a bookstore anywhere in the world is like finding a friend. I love the moment when I hold a book in my hands and place it on the counter and the bookstore clerk has a comment about it or the author. Indie bookstores are havens for readers, as are libraries. There is just something so comforting about being surrounded by books.
I have chills because that woman was me and I Am the Messenger was *exactly* the book I was looking for! And you're right, I never would have found it without Maile 💛