In today’s world of Nooks, Kindles, and e-book apps on smart phones and tablets, gone are the days when we can go to a bookstore to kill time or to browse aimlessly. The traditional brick-and-mortar bookstores are becoming obsolete.
Last year, as I was making my way over to the AMC Loews at Lincoln Sqaure for a movie (it might have been the first installment of the “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows”), I was saddened to see the Barnes & Noble on West 66th and Broadway was closed. Fond memories of hours spent at that particular Barnes & Nobles came flooding back. All of a sudden, I remembered the times I dodged in to escape the chilly New York winters and harsh winds emboldened by the high rises in Lincoln Square. It was also an optimal meeting spot which I took advantage of when making plans with friends and dates. The bookstore, like many of those in New York City, had multiple floors with a café situated conveniently right off the escalator on the 2nd floor landing. Because of the narrow space, many turns and corners, and high bookshelves, it was easy to get lost in the labyrinth of books–my favorite activity since I was very young.
As I mourned the loss of a beloved Barnes & Nobles location, Borders sent out a mass email announcing that it had started restructuring to avoid bankruptcy, and in doing so it would be closing several store locations. Shortly after, as promised, I started getting a flood of emails from Borders announcing clearance and liquidation sales in multiple locations across the country. One of these locations was on Park Avenue and 57th Street. Since starting graduate school in 2009, I had purchased several of my required texts at this location. Thanks to their customer loyalty program, I was getting 30% discount on books that I wasn’t able to find on half.com or Amazon. This was also my go-to spot for last-minute gifts; they had a large assortment of travel games, candy, bobbleheads, trinkets, and chotchkies. When Borders was having its closing sale, my schoolwork had–ironically–taken over my life so I didn’t have time to stop in and say farewell.
Today, I received an email entitled “A Fond Farewell… Thank You for Shopping at Borders.” As I proceeded to open it, I discovered it was another email from Mike Edwards, the CEO of Borders. This time, he announced that Borders Group Inc. (BGI) would be closing all of its stores, which included Borders Express and Waldenbooks, as BGI failed to attract investors and mergers to keep the retail chains afloat. (The media had already reported the news days before: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/43797505/ns/business-consumer_news/t/final-chapter-borders-close-remaining-stores/)
I had started witnessing the death of print firsthand when I was laid off from my first job out of college at Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing. The entire division underwent restructuring and casualties persist to this day–almost four years later. Although I’m no longer a part of the book publishing world, I continue to feel saddened by the slow and painful death of print.
As much as I support saving the rainforests and promoting environmental sustainability, I get a strange high from the musty smell of books. I likened the sensation of rifling through pages as the same as running my fingers through the hair of a lover. There is an intimacy and physical connection to books–actual, physical, binded books–that I just can’t find with e-books.
With the very few bookstores we have remaining, we are reduced to seeking out public places to meet up with friends and dodging into crowded cafés to find refuge from cold wintery weather.
