I got an email today, from Mike Edwards, CEO of Borders, confirming what CBS News told me earlier in the week: Borders, after 40 years, is closing its doors. I've shopped Borders since the first one opened near me in California a couple of decades ago. I had mixed feelings, since I was always a supporter of the small bookstore, especially the ones that specialized in one or two genres and could be counter upon to have the things that the general-interest stores often didn't. But Borders offered so much, all in one place.
When I lived in San Francisco, there was a small independent bookstore right down at the corner of 18th and Geary where my girlfriend and I often browsed and where we spent a fair amount of money on books. The people at the store knew us and our tastes and were always quick with a recommendation or to pass along an advance reader's copy of a book they thought we'd like. A downturn in the economy back in the '80s forced the owners to close that store, concentrating on their other store in the more heavily-trafficked area of Union Street in Cow Hollow. I see that this store is gone, now, as well. Sad.
Yes, stores like Borders, Barnes & Noble, Stacy's and the other big, national chains out pressure on the small stores and their loss is unfortunate and saddening. Of course, when I was a kid, supermarkets were doing much the same thing to small local grocery stores, butcher shops, bakeries and the like. And we all mourned the passing of those little guys for the personal service they could give that the big stores couldn't. But progress is inevitable, I guess.
So, Borders is going, as well. There was a time when I had a choice, living in Alameda -- a small town near San Francisco in the East Bay and mostly located on an island near the Oakland Airport -- of two Borders, one much closer than the other. There were others, too, if I was shopping in another area. And then there were fewer, my friends In California told me. The one closest to where I had lived closed first and then the first one I'd shopped and browsed at. It was sort of like watching one of those elaborate set-ups of dominoes falling, but it touched many of us.
I liked Borders because I could buy books and music, magazines and videos and then DVDs, all in one place, sort of like the supermarket that replaced the little shops from my childhood. And browsing was important. Serendipity has always played a part in my selection of books and CDs (and records; remember them?) I'd go looking for one thing and find three others. When I had disposable income (remember that?) I could walk out of Borders with my arms full of books, magazines and CDs and my pockets proportionately lighter in cash.
I shopped Amazon, too. But usually it was for something specific. It is, I find, hard to browse on-line stores. Even with Amazon nudging me with suggestions based on past purchases -- and I wonder sometimes at the AI that makes these choices, because I can't, for the life of me, figure out how they come up with some of them -- it isn't the same as leisurely walking the aisles at a book store.
Borders cites their slowness in adopting the digital age as embodied in the Kindle or B&N Nook, as one of the "headwinds" that brought them down. Once upon a time -- and we're talking over 40 years ago -- when I was thinking of living aboard a fairly large ocean-going sailboat, a 90' ferro-cement-hulled ketch some friends and I were contemplating, I dreamed of being able to convert my library, even then quite large to some form of digitized format. I read science fiction. They had such things. If only they really existed. And now they do. Between my terabyte external hard disc and something like a Kindle, my books and music would take up very little space and could be searched in ways I never imagined. Wow, living my dreams, science fiction turned to fact.
But, as my friend, the one I used to shop the bookstore in SF with who is still a friend (long story for another time, perhaps) said, at the rate we read, the cost would be prohibitive. I'm plowing through a book a week and sometimes more when I'm not reading those nearly 1,000 page behemoths like the Goodkind Sword of Truth series, as I am now. The Goodkind books were free, courtesy of my wife's boss, who passed them on to her. (She's four books ahead of me in a 12-volume series, with more proposed to come.) To replace them in Kindle format would run over a hundred bucks, with each book going for around $8.We get a lot of our books for nearly nothing at library sales, where, on the second day, one can usually walk away with a paper bag or a file box full of books for $3 to $5. Such a bargain. Perhaps some of them could be found for free in an e-format, but again part of the fun of shopping those library sales is the treasure hunt aspect and the serendipity. I've even found signed first editions to toss into my bag or box at an average of a quarter or so.
With Kindle books running from free, through a buck or two up to around $15, acquiring a library on Kindle could quickly add up. And what to do with the large library of print and paper that now exists? I can't covert them like I can my LPs and CDs and cassettes to digital format. And Kindle, rated the best of the e-book readers by and large, doesn't read all the formats out there. So, I'm not going e-book any time real soon. But I understand that I may be a member of a dying breed.
With Borders going, going and then gone, my options here in Albuquerque have dwindled. Even one of the best of the independents in New Mexico, Page One, has had to retrench and consolidate. They're still there, but one wonders . . . It is a great experience, browsing their collection of new and used books and dealing with a knowledgeable and very friendly staff. Much nicer than either Borders or the Internet. The same pressures that caused Borders to fold, of course, press on Page One.
So, while it may be ironic that I am mourning the passing of the giant that helped kill the small bookstore I liked so much in San Francisco, the demise of brick and mortar stores, where browsing the aisles is part of the pleasure with the purchase only the end result, does make me sad. Perhaps I need to wear a mourning band for a week or so.
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