Browse

Although a Luddite in very many respects, I am not someone who curses all aspects of the digital revolution in book production and distribution. On the contrary, I’ve reached a stage in life when my house simply cannot accommodate any further additions to my library unless these come in the form of ebooks.

On the other hand, like most people, I much prefer the reading experience associated with handling a print book. I like the feel and smell of a book, as long as we’re talking paper, print and glue rather than damp, mould and mildew. It follows that for all the convenience of shopping for books online my heart is still heavily invested in the traditional bookshop, whether that deals with new or second-hand titles.

If any of this strikes a chord then ‘Browse’ will almost certainly be a book you’ll enjoy, as it is subtitled ‘The World in Bookshops’ and the editor’s introduction is followed by fifteen essays by diverse writers extolling the virtues of particular bookshops and of the bookshop experience in general.

The essays represent elegant variations around a relatively small number of themes but range very widely geographically, from St-Leonards-on-Sea to Nairobi and from Bologna to Beijing. All are united by their common love for the institution they celebrate, whether it take the form of a centre of counter-cultural dissent or an oasis of reflective calm. For me the best piece, alongside the introduction by Henry Hitchings, is Mark Forsyth’s essay on the magic of serendipitously discovering something on the bookshelves which inspires a new passion.

Most bookbuyers are, paradoxically, unlikely to discover or purchase this book after browsing in a bookshop but the revival of vinyl at least gives hope that there may be a growing number who come to ‘Browse’ through bookshop rumination.

I've read a few similar kinds of compilations before, but Browse is my new favourite. I enjoyed reading about book shops specifically from authors' perspectives, and how international the scope was. The stories were all mostly nostalgic, with a bit of humour and sadness mixed in. I found myself relating especially to the authors who reminisced about childhood visits to bookshops with parents and siblings - a range of experience most of us who ended up being avid readers can relate to!

The major takeaway from this collection for me was a rekindled interest in the used book trade, and spurred me to check out what shops there are in my local area. Even though I tend to buy only through my work (due to industry discounts!) I found myself digging through a few sections at an overcrowded secondhand book shop a few days after finishing this, and walked away with a few old out of print treasures.

If you know anything about me, know this: I am obsessed with books about books. I've read books about authors, about book challenges, about the 1000 books you must read in this life. I've read books about bookshops. And Browse is one of the best.

"This is not a gazetteer, a guide to the bookshops of the world. Instead, it's an anthology of personal experiences of the book, the most resonant object of the last millennium, and of the special place where readers go to acquire their books - a pharmacy or pharmacopoeia, a miracle of eclecticism, a secret garden, an ideological powder keg, a stage for protest against the banality and glibness of the rest of the world, and also a place of safety and sanity, the only kind of grotto that is also a lighthouse" (25).

One of the main things that I loved about this collection is that there is such a variety of bookshops and voices - bookshops in Nairobi, London, Egypt, and many other countries! Many of the essays were originally written in the writer's native language and then translated for this anthology, which is a touch that I appreciated. I do always wonder, though, what has been lost or changed in translation.

The best essay by far was the essay 'Leitner and I' by Sasa Stanistic. He describes books as drugs - different books give different types of hits, which he purchases from his book dealer. I'm definitely not doing this essay justice, because it isn't at all gimmick-y or distasteful. It rather works quite elegantly, and I can definitely say that I've never read an essay quite like it. After this delightfully different ode to bookstores and those who own them, the other essays were a bit...samey. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy them, because I did, but they felt like any writer's description of the bookstore they love.

Browse manages to capture the strange love that writers and readers have for bookstores and booksellers. Written with awe and wonder, it made me want to dash to my favourite bookstore (Mr B's Emporium of Reading Delights, if you were wondering) and spend hours perusing the shelves in the hopes that my next life-changing book will jump out at me. I will almost certainly be purchasing this book in hardcopy at some point.

This was an interesting collection of essays by and about lovers of books/bookstores/libraries. Especially interesting was the insight into bookish pursuits within other countries/cultures.

It is so nice to see people express how deeply bookstores and libraries have shaped and moved them. You dont have to choose one o the other or ebooks vs. paper books. There is room for all formats.

Sometimes I get to slightly tick off books about books for the feel that they're preaching to the converted. I can't really tick this off at all, however, even if it is a literary book wherein literary people write literate essays about bookshops. Ali Smith, Andrei Kurkov, Daniel Kehlmann (truly a rising star, in that because he's in translation it's taking people too long to discover him, although here he's referenced in a great essay by someone else equating booksellers to drug dealers) – there are a host of great writers here discussing in their own separate ways, and from their own unique experiences, the selling of (mainly second-hand books) and where that happens. Yes, a couple get too lefty and world-y in their approach, but I am sure we can all forgive that. Plus, of course – I'm only too proud to be one of the converted.

A great and unexpectedly diverse collection of stories and essays about the power of book stores. Often, these sort of "appreciative" collections tend to read the same from piece to piece, but this one is wonderfully varied--in approach, in intent, and in the authors themselves (many are translated from languages other than English). This range of perspectives and styles shows the true power of book stores to capture the heart and the imagination, no matter where you are from.

A mostly stellar collection on the power, pull, and comfort of bookshops around the world - it read, to me, like a warm blanket around the shoulders. A lovely read for anyone who loves the smell of paper, an imperious bookstore cat, and the reading world.

Reading this book is dangerous for any bibliophile, bookworm, book dragon, or any other chosen moniker for a bookaholic. You'll love reading about the authors experiences in various bookstores and in the end, will have an ever-growing list of places you'll want to visit. Nonetheless, I loved living vicariously through the stories found within its pages.

Each of the contributors to this collection have singled out a bookshop that was significant in both their life and career. Browse is a thoughtful, pensive and enticing trip through the world's drastically different bookshop experiences and how they shaped the author's and reader's of today. Each story is filled with wonder, nostalgia and influence. Moments like finding old train tickets in used books, working in bookshops, finding secret book sections and the frustration of only picking one book at a time. Each author manages to bring something new to the subject.

As an avid reader and unashamed bibliophile, a collection of essays by an array of writers waxing fondly over their respective favorite bookshops is immediately a cozy home run. However, due to my decision to finally read this several years after being provided an advanced reader copy and about two years into a worldwide pandemic, “Browse” is also significantly more. In an era of reduced travel, this book is a chance to travel around the globe without leaving the safety of one’s home. In an era of significantly increased risk while merely being out and about in public, these essays allow me to visit new shops unburdened by anxiety. And in an era absolutely thick with uncertainty, “Browse” manages to bring me comfort by simultaneously transporting me back to a seemingly simpler time not too long ago, and enthusing me for a hopefully not-too-distant future where I can once again casually saunter around shops free of and unease, and happily take my time as I glance over titles and wonder if anyone of them will call out to me.

As a lover of bookshops I really enjoyed reading these essays. A fun selection for bibliophiles that makes for a fast, joyful read.