The Strand is the last survivor of Book Row. Originally on 4th avenue, it was one of 48 book shops on the avenue. Book Row was established in the late 1890s and ran from Union Square to Astor Place. The current owner Fred Bass, son of founder Ben Bass, began working at the store when he was 13. In 1956 Ben Bass moved the store from 4th avenue to the current 12th street location, as Book Row had all but become moot.
In the 1970s, Pulitzer Prize winning journalist George F. Will wrote in an article about the store: "the eight miles worth saving in this city are at the corner of Broadway and 12th Street. They are the crammed shelves of the Strand Book Store." Today there are over 18 miles of books, adding to more than 2.5 million volumes that can be found on the same corner of 12th and Broadway. The Bass family recently bought the building as not to be victim of rising rent prices. Currently Fred and his daughter Nancy are the co-owners of the store. So that's the history.
Now the books.
I've mentioned the overwhelming amount of books before, but being led on tour through the building from the 5th floor warehouse to the basement was indescribable. I know think that if we don't have a book than it is either very popular and we can't keep it on the shelves or it doesn't actually exist. There are books that cost $35,000 dollars. $40,000. $45,000. The oldest book in the rare book room was printed in 1480. Now that I've walked through it all and have been given the history I feel like it is like the Louvre. You can't do it all in one day.
As far as characters go, The Strand is full of them. I need to start carrying a small notebook so I can do sketches of people when I am at work. The most surprising thing to me is that if you are friendly and talkative, customers will talk right back to you. They want to be a part of the Strand Club too. Which obviously makes me feel way cooler than I actually am. I thought that I was well-read before, but one thing has become painstakingly clear. I have read nothing. I didn't even know that "The Tale of the Genji" was accredited with being the oldest novel in the world. It was written by a woman in the early 11th century. Although I wasn't actually holding THE oldest novel in the world, holding the words was sort of magical. Very surreal. These moments happen every day. It certainly drives the point that there was a wondrous world before us and that wonder will persevere long after we've been replaced. Which leads me to everyone's favorite moment:
Gratitude Journal [entry #7]
- Being surrounded by people much smarter than me
- Introducing a very dapper gentleman to Marcel Proust
- Having the courage to write it all down
