The Shamrock Shakes of Irish Literature

Last week, my brother-in-law, who moved to Boston last summer, asked me if the McDonalds on the East Coast served up Shamrock shakes for Saint Patrick's Day, like they did back in the Midwest. A Boston resident for over three years and a fan of--if not the fast food chain--that creamy mint green shake myself, I was ashamed to say I did not know. But I was able to tell him about Dunkin Donuts' seasonal Irish Creme donut, a sugar coated bun filled with a creme not-quite-green but a shade less yellow than your traditional Boston creme. It's nothing compared to their autumnal pumpkin donut, but as a novelty item, it's not a bad way to get yourself primed for St. Patrick's Day.

Of course, to get a true taste of Ireland, no one goes for the food. This month, we've got a range of Irish literature on display, writers who will give you a more accurate glimpse into Irish culture, landscape and cuisine--without the foul aftertaste of American fast food. We've got the classics: Yeats and Beckett and Joyce, and Flann O'Brien's At Swim Two Birds. These guys are the Shamrock Shakes of Irish literature. You'll want to pick them up again, year after year.

You've read Dubliners, but have you read Dublinesque, a new novel by Enrique Vila-Matas set in Dublin as the world of publishers, readers, and writers is losing its hold on Irish culture. The protagonist is a retired literary publisher, but the strong presence of Joyce and Beckett in this novel almost make them characters as well.

And if you're looking for non-fiction set in Ireland, pick up Robert Kanigel's On an Irish Island. Kanigel introduces the reader to the lost world of the Great Blasket, an island off the west coast of Ireland, renowned for its former communal life and preservation of the Irish language. Kanigel weaves together the island's history with the colorful life of its local residents and visiting scholars.

Any of these books would go nicely with a pint of Guinness or, if you can find one out here, a Shamrock shake. Whether you're looking for a guidebook, map, or simply some good armchair travel, we've got them, no artificial flavors added.

Begone, blahs!

I sat in Mr. Bumblebottom's endless trig class, trying to pop my gum without letting him see. I would've stared out the window, but outside was even more depressing than inside. If there's anything more endless than trig class, more endless than the time the popular kids spend talking about the prom, it's a Boston winter. If only there was something to make me forget.

If this sounds like you, we have that something in the Young Adult section. As winter drags on and the blahs get hard to shake, we're featuring cheerful books, the kind that distract you, make you laugh, and turn sine and cosine into sunshine.

We've got realistic stories with hilarious characters who'd be your BFFs if they were lucky enough to meet you.

     

We've got fantasy that's heavy on the awesome use of magic in storytelling and low on the vampire bites.

     

 

We've got outlandish but technically realistic stories that probably won't happen to you... but they could.

 

  

 

We've got graphic novels full of cheerful, springy colors.

 

 

 

And of course, we've got romance - the kind with a sense of humor.

 

   

 

Your trig homework will wait.

There's a used book for that

Author Alain de Botton started up this "social enterprise" called the School of Life in London, where participants can attend workshops or special lectures on topics ranging from positivity, vice, "how to be cool," navigating office politics, and much more. Some of the creme de la creme of their offerings are now released in book format here in the States. De Botton's How to Think More About Sex and psychologist Phillipa Perry's How to Stay Sane are the first of a forthcoming series of books that will teach you how to live a better life, "free from dogma." One of my favorite offerings of the School of Life, that is perhaps not much different from the commonplace task of a bookseller though more formal, is bibliotherapy.

The concept of Bibliotherapy is that you submit your ills or interests or preoccupations with a designated bibliotherapist who will prescribe books to help you cope, process or escape. Whatever you need! According to Wikipedia it's been around since the ancient Greeks (which makes all my life choices legitimate). I like this concept a lot, perhaps because in an on-the-fly sense it's what booksellers do all day. But I like the idea that there are certain books to cure your ills or at least alleviate the symptoms.

Lacking spice in your marriage? We've got Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence!

Sick of the rain outside? Read Dune by Frank Herbert.

Need a laugh? How about George Saunders' Pastoralia?

Getting over the loss of a loved one? Paul Auster's New York Trilogy might help.

Need to create more boundaries for yourself? Let Bronte's Jane Eyre inspire you.

Irrational fears got you down? Max Brooks' World War Z might allay things.

Government bumming you out? How about V for Vendetta by Alan Moore?

Mourning the transition from childhood to adulthood? We have a grip of Peanuts, Garfield and Calvin & Hobbes comics.

Come into the UBC and save mad money on your psychiatry bills!

Twenty-four Hours with Proust

A few years ago, as my friend Tera and I were wandering around the Bibliothèque nationale in Paris, I wondered aloud if Proust’s manuscripts were there, either on display or hidden away in some dusty archive. So when we inadvertently befriended a bored security guard, we asked. Unfortunately, neither of us spoke much French. But the guard seemed to understand, became animated, and sent us off down a long hallway with directions to turn at the end. We eagerly complied, only to end up at an exhibit of Louis the Something’s Globes.

Proust’s coveted hand-written drafts of his 3,000 page novel, In Search of Lost Time, have never been on display outside of Paris. When I left the city I thought I had left my chances of ever viewing the spidery scrawl and crowded margins of my favorite author. But now, in celebration of the 100^th anniversary of the publication of Swann’s Way, Proust’s papers have made their way outside of the confines of the Bibliothèque national, and are on display at the Morgan Library in New York City.

In conjunction with these celebrations, 192 Books in Chelsea decided to host “Proust in 24 hours” a 24-hour reading of Swann’s Way. And they decided to hold this event last Tuesday, February 19, in other words: on my 30^th birthday. As could think of no better way to celebrate, reflect on, and downright ponder the passing of time, I decided to go.

I spent the afternoon at the Morgan with Proust. At least, that was what it felt like, as I enclosed myself in the small, cubicle exhibit and poured over his manuscripts. Never mind that his handwriting was illegible and that, while my French has improved somewhat since my miscommunication with the library guard, my continuing education French classes haven’t quite got me up to the speed of, well, Proust’s vocabulary. I remembered that Proust translated his favorite author, Ruskin, without learning English, and I stared at those pages until I began to recognize the passages I had committed to heart.

On the opening page to Swann’s Way, Proust had drawn a bold line through an entire first paragraph. Then, near the bottom, he had penciled in a line so tenuous and faint it was difficult to discern: “Longtemps, je me suis couche de bonne heure.” In another draft on display the famous madeleine was referred to as a “biscotte”—it originally had its source in a commonplace slice of toast. This toast to madeleine transubstantiation will forever stand in my mind as the quintessential transformation of life into art.

Sufficiently immersed in Proust, I dropped my bags at The Jane Hotel and headed up 10^th Ave to 192 Books. The small, one-room carefully curated bookshop was cozily packed with people crowded around a small table where Adam Gopnik and Anka Muhlstein would introduce the 24-hour reading. Champagne was poured and madeleines nibbled as we listened to Gopnik read an exchange of letters between Proust and André Gide, who declined to publish Proust. Muhlstein talked about her new book Monsieur Proust’s Library, which chronicles the literature Proust both references and draws from throughout his novel. There are over 200 characters in In Search of Lost Time, and a good many of them are readers.

We had quite a few readers that night at 192 books. I felt privileged to be among them as I took my turn at the mike. And while I did not make it through the entire 24 hours, I did stay long enough to hear the madeleine dipped into tea, and of how its taste conjured up a past believed to be lost, the narrator’s panacea, and one for us all, against the forward turning of the years.

I thought that was the end of my Proustian pilgrimage to New York City, but I was wrong. The following day, as I was walking down 5^th Avenue, I glanced in the window of Bergdorf Goodman. The luxury department store had decided to go literary, giving five window displays over to great moments in literature, among them, In Search of Lost Time.

Seuss Seuss Seuss Seuss Seuss!

The bookshelves of Booksmith have many a use.
Since March is approaching, they're now sporting Seuss.
The bard who penned many a rollicking line
is turning, March second, a hundred and nine.
The heart books are down now, and what could be sweeter
than filling the shelves with impeccable meter?
Come visit the back of the store, and your eyes'll
be ambushed by creatures created by Geisel:
a pop who's been hopped on, a Sam who loves green,
the Sneetches, Sylvester McMonkey McBean,
a Lorax who doggedly speaks for the trees,
and many more friends just as silly as these.
In search of a classic? Come on, make a beeline
for everyone's favorite, the hat-bearing feline.
For here are some things that I'm certain are true -
two things, and I call them Thing 1 and Thing 2:
Thing 1 is that reading is better than not,
so you're far better off the more books that you've got.
Thing 2's an addendum to good old Thing 1:
that reading is better whenever it's fun.
So come into Booksmith! Get off your caboose!
Go home with an armload of everything Seuss!

Sell us your used books!

Hey kids! As you devotees of the store may know, we buy used books Wednesdays through Saturdays, 10 AM - 4 PM. However, this week we've decided to mix things up. If you want to sell books back at a different time or on a different day, drop us an e-mail or call the store at 617-566-6660 and we will now make an appointment to buy your books on our off days.

Check out our buying guidelines here and get in touch!

Where All the Promotional Materials Go to Die

I love promotional materials. I really do. I love posters, pins, stickers, mugs, informational pamphlets, cardboard cutouts, bags, the works. My work space is slowly being overtaken--nay, decorated--by promotional materials.  My coaster is from our Drinking Boston event last month, my mug came from the Main Street Rag Publishing Company, and my walls are plastered with posters from events past. I can be counted on to acquire stickers and pins and then distribute them joyfully throughout the store, very similar to a flower girl tossing petals. If you see a cat sticker or a Snowy Day tattoo on a bookseller, a teacher with an armful of bookmarks, or a child with a full sheet of stickers that seem to have fallen from the heavens, I may have had something to do with it.

SO PRETTY.

One of my favorite posters is from Melville House. After putting this up (and then acquiring a few more for co-workers who wanted one too), I've suffered from the extreme desire to collect them all and recreate this poster in real life. It's more than just a pretty poster, it's a handy way to describe colors ("Yeah, I'm imagining the south-facing wall the color of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia, you know? But The Duel is an option too.").

HOUGHTON MADE THESE BAGS,  HOUGHTON MIFFLIN!

I've been threatened repeatedly for The Hobbit bag, which currently houses about forty uninflated balloons, streamers, and rolls of tickets (working events=unintentionally collecting a wide assortment of objects). Please do not jump me for this bag. Where else would the balloons go? How would we hold raffles?

Sometimes you need a cat butt in your life.

My absolute favorite?  This sticker from Simon Tofield's upcoming Simon's Cat in Kitten Chaos which I have placed in a strategic surprise location. Answering the phone has become 100x more exciting than normal!