I resisted going and salvaging for the deals in the store close down for a long time.
I love bookstores. Even in the "chain" era for everything, the smell of books, the weight of them in my hand, makes me feel like a school girl again. Yes I am one of those who reads - a lot. I am far off from being a literary pro though, I admit I've read and still read a lot of, what you would call, beach novels. Nonetheless, one thing that remained with me over the years is the joy I feel when I spend hours reading, finding myself smiling while doing so. Many times I cried, too.
Book stores.. Libraries.. Small local book shops.. They all have a part in my heart. Something about shelves of books, I don't know what it is, but it makes me feel cozy and happy. One of the things I remember about the house I was born to is the living room and shelves and shelves of books. Both my parents are more than well read, but my father especially loved books. I inherited his love of books. It was a great pride for me to have my own shelves stuffed with books in my own room. When I visited places, bookstores and old passages filled with second hand bookshops would be the first places I would go. I know it is not exactly logical to keep books. After all, they live on your walls for years without you touching them. Rarely we read a book twice. But something about them, just being there, is so comforting.
Last summer, I helped my dad, after some serious determination on his part, go through thousands of books we had at home, select only a few to keep and give the rest to a house with children. It was a very emotional experience, especially for him. But he soldiered through it and we packed about 15 boxes full with books to give away. If it was me I would still have kept at least half of them. We spent a day going through them, and he touched every one of those books, I'm sure every one brought back memories. A few of those memories he shared with me while having a cup of coffee in our breaks. I was very sad for him, I know it was too hard to let go of those books. Some of them he had had for more than 30-40 years. I tried to tell him that he didn't need to get rid of all of them, but apart from the few that he kept, he packed all the rest. He said, if he can't do it today, he will never do it. And today was the day to let go.
I got rid of many of my books as well. I do not keep a lot at my parents' home any more. After living away for 10 years, now I have a few books and two canvas boxes: one has few stuffed animals I want to keep for the sake of my childhood, and one with other sentimental stuff: letters, old glasses, yearbooks etc. Still, the books I parted with were not even close to being as important to me as the ones in those 15 boxes to my father.
Now, in my own apartment, I only have a select few. I try to get rid of most, and I try to avoid buying. For a girl whose recent past and very likely future involves a lot of moving, it is not such a great investment, and books are not cheap either. One way of keeping myself checked is to visit Aunt Agatha's now and then. It is a local mystery book shop, very old school, books not in real order of anything, mostly second hand, crowded tightly in shelves. They hold book club meetings there too, I once walked in while they were discussing a book. Several young and old Ann Arborites, sitting in a U shape around the shelves in the middle of the shop. It made me smile. I also like that shop not only because it is local, but also because Agatha Christi was an early love of mine when I was a kid. When I was emptying my shelves last summer along with my dad, I got rid of more than 30 books, easily, of hers. All were second hand, and read with love, by many until me, then by me. And I am sure they will be read by many after me.
I am also trying to adapt to the new age of "reading" on mobile devices that are lighter than one single book but can carry thousands in it. It is not the same though. I can never trade the feeling of holding a real book in my hands to an e-reader or worse, an audiobook. I think they have their uses, but they can never ever replace books.
So today I was in Arborland to finally buy a new pair of Chuck Taylors. The two pairs I have been wearing for 8-9 years have no soles left. One pair I left at home with strict orders to my mom to dispose of it, knowing I wouldn't do it myself if I took them back with me. And procrastinating for years to replace the last pair, a couple of weeks ago I wore them two days in a row which left my feet in need of some TLC. So today I drove to DSW with my $20 coupon to get another pair.
On my way out, I eyed the huge "Closing" banner over borders. I have refused to go in there so far. Today I felt it was time.
Everything was gone. Every installment was on sale, along with the books and CDs and DVDs and everything else. Even the syrup containers they used in the coffee shop were being sold, for 50 cents each. It was so sad.
There was no order. Instead, there were empty shelves and big signs of sales. It still felt like a bookstore though. I find it a lovely feature of some book shops to have no order, for example. It is one of those isolating and cold features of being a chain bookstore to have too much order and too much attention to displays. I like it when it is a little chaotic. You find unexpected bits of love hidden in unexpected shelves within that chaos sometimes.
I walked around a little. I was looking for a Maeve Binchy book, one of my favorite authors to date, so maybe I could buy it a little cheaper. Of course, most books were gone, including the one I was looking for. But I felt like staying. I wandered around a little bit more. I looked at books, and at the people.. And I felt so sad. I genuinely felt so sad to see a bookstore closing. Especially one that is, although a chain, still local. One that I came to many many times and spent hours in. Tears almost showed up in my eyes. I'm sure people thought I was crazy. When I was paying, when the cashier asked me how I was, I couldn't help but say "I'm sad." He looked at me weirdly. I noticed none of the people that worked there, whom I have seen many times, looked sad. That made me even sadder. I kept repeating myself, saying how sad it was to see this store closing, and the cashier did not even respond to me.
Before leaving the store, I stood by the doors for a few more minutes. I wondered what this store would be next. I looked inside the store, to the back where all the shelves were empty.. I felt empty. I wished the store farewell and left.
I knew I was going to write this blog while I was standing in front of the doors, with my last purchase from Borders in Arborland in my arms. I rescued a two-novel copy of Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities and Great Expectations, as well as a fairly expensive audiobook, although it was 50% off, called Bad Things Happen by Harry Dolan, which I totally got suckered into simply because it was set in Ann Arbor. And the icing on the cake was when I saw the whole seven season package of the Golden Girls while paying, sitting at the lower back shelf, 50% off.
Farewell Borders Arborland. I had many pleasant hours spent under your roof. And I wish Borders, after 40 years of being Borders, the best of luck to get back on its feet.
