Some years ago, when we were still in Desa Seri Hartamas, we were roundly scolded by one of our customers for selling John Grisham titles in Silverfish Books and having the audacity to display the titles in front of the shop. "You are not that type of bookshop," we were told, quite emphatically. Our only response was a very sheepish, "Just trying, lah. Experiment, lah." (For the record, we couldn't sell even one of his books and had to return them all -- it was a failed experiment.)
So what type of bookshop are we? We did have an idea of the type of bookshop we wanted to be when we set it up in mid-1999, right in the middle of an economic (and political) turmoil. It was before the mega bookshop era, and Skoob Books was the only decent bookshop in town. It was a time when chain bookstores had a section for "mature readers", leading to much doubt, introspection and mental trauma. Do I qualify? What if the cashier asks questions? What if she can smell fear? What if they ask for a blood sample to determine my DNA to ascertain I am mature enough? What if I fail the test? What if my friends laugh at me?
Sigh. Life was so-oo difficult.
Anyway, we wanted a bookshop with books we'd want to read, a book boutique as it were, and our customers have made sure we did not deviate from the path. They helped shape the character of Silverfish Books as much as we did, maybe more. And, consequently, we have received both bouquets and brickbats. On the upside we have been called a 'real' bookshop, a 'good' bookshop and a ‘serious’ bookshop. And, on the downside we have been called snobs, hoity-toity and, also, serious.
Book selling has many similarities with the rag trade. There are the boutiques run by designers (or those who pretend to be) for those who care. Then there are the supermarkets selling every damn thing for the consumer. And, there are the reject shops selling overruns, defective merchandise or stuff that has been on shelves for a while, for those who care less, a lot less. Basically, this is true of bookshops too.
Ian Rankin is reported to have said recently that "crime novelists have been placed at the bottom of our literary hierarchy". He was, of course speaking of the British literary scene where poets are generally regarded to be on top, followed by playwrights, and then 'literary' novelists. And after that come people who write crime, thrillers and on espionage, followed by the bottom feeders who do the rest of the stuff which we need not go into.
Some of the class system certainly seems to have filtered down to the colonies. (We shall not go into details, for we fear the wrath.) Personally, we do not subscribe to it at all (no matter how others might view us). There are good books, and there are bad books. Period. We do not necessarily have to like a book to accept some will consider it good, and vice versa. We do have a bias for good prose, though. Poor or lazy writing is so off-putting.
So, we choose every book we put on our shelves, but we do wish we have more resources to buy much more titles we like, quite a lot more. Certainly, we don't want to order every title on the list. (I have written before about why a book is not a shoe.) Unfortunately, poetry and plays are the first to be sacrificed because they really don't sell very well.
There is a rumour out there that good books are hard to read, or that good books are boring. So far, we have little evidence of that. It is a fact, good books make you think. In fact, they mandate thinking. Now, if thinking is considered hard work, then that is another matter.
For the original article see The Guardian
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Just what exactly is "that type of bookshop"? Pardon me for saying this, but it sounds a bit snooty for some people's liking! The point is this; after all is said and done Silverfish Books is in the business of selling, first. You are, therefore, no better and no worse than those ubiquitous banana fritter stalls around the neighbourhood corners. Never mind being thought of as audacious. That you happen to sell books is, yes, happenstance in the word of Ian Flaming.
ReplyDeleteMy point is this. Why can you not sell Grisham? Or for that matter, Harold Robbins? Are we still grappling with Victorian morality? Come of it! We are now in the ninth year of the 21st C. in the third millennium. And if risque titles are what the customers want, risque titles are what they should get. But if Silverfish Books regulars are not into racy titles then the enterprising bookseller in you, Raman [SB is still owned by you Raman who started it all, no?], must clear such titles from your inventory lest your profitability suffers.
Speaking of Harold Robbins, I thought I had read somewhere several years ago about Cantab offering a paper on Harold Robbins for those undergraduates reading English at the university. The underlying reason for offering the course was that a writer who sold multiple million copies for each of his dozen and half titles must have done something right with his fiction and therefore he is worth looking deeper into. Surely this is one rationale one cannot disagree with.
This said, there are those occupiers of the moral high ground who disagree with this point of view. And we will respect them for it. But that does not give any of them the right to look down their noses at Silverfish Books and being judgemental about the sort of titles the shop displays for sale. Or am I being a bleeding liberal?
Interesting points. But isn't it true that the reason a person sells banana fritters is because that is what he (or she) does best? As opposed to selling nasi lemak or mee goreng? I grew up reading Agatha Christie, Leslie Charteris, Earl Stanley Gardner, Ian Fleming, Harold Robbins and Irving Wallace as a teenager. But in my 20's I was on to Herman Hesse, Franz Kafka, Gore Vidal, John Irving, Hunter Thompson and John Fowles. Though I still revisit some of the earlier stuff from time to time, I moved on. Later, I was on to quite a lot of other stuff.
ReplyDeleteWhile there is nothing wrong with reading any of the earlier stuff, there is the danger that one could remain stuck there. There is a lot more out there. The Name of the Rose by Umberto Echo or My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk are excellent crime thrillers. Love in the Times of Cholera by Garcia Marquez is a romance.
Ultimately, there is only good writing and poor writing, good story telling and poor story telling. One has to read the entire range before one decides.
When setting up an independent bookshop, one has to decide what one is best at, for unlike a mega store one cannot order every book on the list. If it is banana fritters, so be it. Admittedly, John Grisham is not one of our strong point.
(And talking about racy, compared to Marquis de Sade and George Bataile, Harold Robbins is very mild, though I did like the Nevada Smith character a lot.)