One October evening, an American in London found himself locked in Waterstones, the ornate bookstore in Trafalgar Square. The visitor, David Willis of Texas, emerged cheerfully a few hours later, sustained, no doubt, by his forced immersion in mystery, history and paleontology.
While this was an accident, cynics could be forgiven for thinking that forcible confinement might be the only way that bookstores can keep customers these days.
In Canada, we well know, more bookstores have disappeared this year. Beyond readers, the vanishing bookstore is most hard on writers. It means one fewer place for them to discuss books.
Once upon a time, the bookstore was a place a writer would come to give a talk, meet readers, sign books. A bookstore was a forum, a stage, a theatre. No longer.
Today, entering most bookstores is a test of character for the writer. You might find your book amid the baubles; you might not. You might be asked to speak and sign; you might be ignored.
There are a few sanctuaries offering literary asylum: Munro’s Books and Bolen Books in Victoria, Books on Beechwood in Ottawa, Ben McNally Books in Toronto.
The disappearing bookstore reflects the ebbing stature of books in society. The public space for books is shrinking.
The author tour is passé. Twenty years ago, a first-time author with a good book could expect to visit five cities or so, speaking, giving interviews. Few do that today.
Newspapers used to review books seriously. The Globe and Mail published a weekly, well-read tabloid on books. The Toronto Star and the National Post carried reviews. The Times Colonist still does.
There are fewer reviews in newspapers today and fewer specialty publications on books. Those that survive, like The Literary Review of Canada — the nation’s literary salon — commission reviews (often long and learned) for which they pay little.
There remain excellent book shows on CBC Radio, such as The Next Chapter with the spirited Shelagh Rogers, and unusual hosts on private radio, such as Mark Sutcliffe on CFRA in Ottawa, who appreciate books. None has the impact of Peter Gzowski’s CBC’s Morningside, where an author’s appearance on national radio could make telephones ring in bookstores.
There are some ambitious websites, like Joseph Planta’s The Commentary, an excellent forum out of Vancouver. There are a host of new literary awards managed by the Writers Trust of Canada and others that draw attention to books.
But the reality is that most authors will attract small audiences. They will not win a prize. They will not be picked.
The problem for authors isn’t e-books or Amazon, which present and sell their books differently. It is about the opportunity to write, to be heard, to make a decent living in a society that is less interested in books and less willing to pay for them.
Waterstones, you should know, is fighting back.
Inspired by that American caught between the covers, it has offered a select number of patrons the chance to spend a night in one of its stores in London, there to sleep among the towers of books.
Andrew Cohen is a professor of journalism and international affairs at Carleton University in Ottawa and the author of Two Days in June: John F. Kennedy and the 48 Hours That Made History.
