Solitary search

Books are written in solitude, and they are also read in solitude. In each case, the fewer distractions the better. Each requires focus, concentration, thought.

In his book In Praise of Good Bookstores (2022), Jeff Deutsch observes that what's true of book authors and book readers is also true of bookstore browsers. Shopping for books is rarely a communal activity in the usual sense. You may enter a bookstore with a friend, a spouse or even an entire family, yet almost as soon as you walk in you separate and go off in different directions. One person heads for new fiction, another for the history section or the biographies. Children aim for the kids' books.

I was in a small independent bookstore a few days ago when a family entered. There was a burst of conversation at first, mostly the parents — or were they grandparents? — giving instructions about order and silence — and then I didn't notice them again.

I'm sure there are people who can browse bookshelves and hold a conversation at the same time, but I believe them to be rare. They probably aren't that interested in books anyway. For most of us who haunt bookstores, browsing involves a sense of solitude, pulling back within ourselves as we deliberate over authors and titles and cover illustrations and blurbs until we find something we yearn to read, once again in solitude.

And yet Deutsch adds something profound, "In book-filled rooms, solitude and community are simultaneously present." We may ignore them, yet we somehow feel something in common with our fellow browsers. Oh, they may sometimes get in our way, yet they are so much like us, solitary readers in a solitary search for just the right book.