My life in bookshops
a personal history of a life of browsing
by JAMES GAULT

In the years BA (Before Amazon), bookshops were the most important places in a writer’s life, for where else could the public access those thousands and thousands of words diligent authors had churned out to amuse and delight the great public? Nowadays, with on-line shopping, e-books and who knows what future innovations, the high-street bookshop is at least a threatened if not an endangered species. So, as a personal valediction to them before they disappear from the face of the earth, let me take you on a tour of some of the important bookshops in my life.
I’ve been around for a long time, but the world has had bookshops for a whole lot longer than it’s had me. They preceded printing; the Greeks and the Romans had them, and they were encouraged in the early Muslim world. The medieval monasteries were the early source of hand-scribed books in the Christian world.
But while Islam promoted the distribution of books and learning, the Christian world restricted it. In England, booksellers formed guilds while in France booksellers needed to have a licence. This was not just to protect trade, but to inhibit the distribution of seditious writing. Thankfully, censorship has at last pretty well disappeared, in the West at least.
We’re currently undergoing a major revolution in bookselling; but there have been others. Firstly, the invention of printing meant that books could be produced cheaply in great numbers. Much later, the rise in literacy levels following the introduction of state education led to increases in demand for those books, and the golden age of the bookshop started. And then, most significantly for me if not for the world, in the mid-sixties of the twentieth century, I appeared on the scene as a bookshop customer
In the years BA (Before Amazon), bookshops were the most important places in a writer’s life, for where else could the public access those thousands and thousands of words diligent authors had churned out to amuse and delight the great public? Nowadays, with on-line shopping, e-books and who knows what future innovations, the high-street bookshop is at least a threatened if not an endangered species. So, as a personal valediction to them before they disappear from the face of the earth, let me take you on a tour of some of the important bookshops in my life.
I’ve been around for a long time, but the world has had bookshops for a whole lot longer than it’s had me. They preceded printing; the Greeks and the Romans had them, and they were encouraged in the early Muslim world. The medieval monasteries were the early source of hand-scribed books in the Christian world.
But while Islam promoted the distribution of books and learning, the Christian world restricted it. In England, booksellers formed guilds while in France booksellers needed to have a licence. This was not just to protect trade, but to inhibit the distribution of seditious writing. Thankfully, censorship has at last pretty well disappeared, in the West at least.
We’re currently undergoing a major revolution in bookselling; but there have been others. Firstly, the invention of printing meant that books could be produced cheaply in great numbers. Much later, the rise in literacy levels following the introduction of state education led to increases in demand for those books, and the golden age of the bookshop started. And then, most significantly for me if not for the world, in the mid-sixties of the twentieth century, I appeared on the scene as a bookshop customer

As a child, I read only books I had borrowed from the public library or from school, or had been given as presents by relatives. But when I went to University, I had to buy books for myself, and here is where I started: John Smith and Son of Glasgow. You will see that it had new and second-hand books, and as an impecunious student I often had to resort to the latter. The branch in the picture was near Glasgow University, but it had gone by my time, so I used the main one in St Vincent St in the city centre. Sadly, that too has now disappeared.

Foyles in London was a famous name in 1966 when I was working there during the university summer holidays. Working split-shifts in a restaurant, I had a lot of free time in the afternoons to read, so it became a regular haunt. It was a rabbit warren of a place, a bit like John Smith’s, but on a massive scale. You could spend hours exploring the narrow passages and little hidden enclaves which were little more than cupboards, and, of course, unexpected delights were to be found in every corner. The shop is still open, but the last time I was there they had modernised and opened up the interior, making it much more convenient for the book browser. But for me, all the charm has been lost.
The second best thing, after browsing, that you can do in a bookshop is to sit down, have a coffee and dive into the first chapter of that new novel you have just splashed out on. Here are a couple of my favourite in-bookstore watering holes. The one on the left is the café in Waterstone’s in Cambridge, while the other is the Globe bookstore in Prague, Czechia, It sells coffee, cakes and books in English and is a haven for the Anglophone expats living and working in the city.

Some bookshops can draw you to them because of their literary connections, and I visited one of these many years on a business trip to San Francisco. It was City Lights Bookstore, the spiritual home of the beat generation, the heroes of my misspent hippie youth. I wandered round just absorbing the atmosphere and hoping some of that immense talent that had diffused its great works out to the world would somehow be diffused into me. And, to reinforce any genius that may have been passed my way, I bought a book of Lawrence Ferlinghetti poems.

For a writer, probably the most loved bookshop is the one where you first see the printed copy of your first published book and this bookshop is where I saw mine. It’s in Wenceslas Square in Prague, One day, long before I started writing novels, I went in there and, what joy! There was my little textbook for sale in the English Language Teaching section. If you’re in Prague, give the shop a visit. You won’t find my book there any longer, but it has a great section of popular English language novels and a sweet little café where you can relax and dip into what you’ve bought.
Even today, although the great god Amazon and the other deities like Smashwords and Barnes and Noble make it easy for new writers to get their work out, we still need the support of the traditional stores. Sometimes we get it and sometimes we don’t. Below are 2 stories that were sent to me by other writers. So come on bookshops, how about a little mutual cooperation here?
Even today, although the great god Amazon and the other deities like Smashwords and Barnes and Noble make it easy for new writers to get their work out, we still need the support of the traditional stores. Sometimes we get it and sometimes we don’t. Below are 2 stories that were sent to me by other writers. So come on bookshops, how about a little mutual cooperation here?