When Time Stands Still: The Joy of Bookstores

Old Rizzoli Bookstore, 57th Street, Manhattan (circa 2014)

Whenever I journey to a new town or city, one of my special pleasures is finding and spending time in a local bookstore. I love to while away the time tucked in rows of highly stacked shelves of books on history and politics, literature, religion and philosophy, and if time permits, art and music. It matters not whether the shelves are filled with new or used books, stacked in an orderly and well organized manner or chaotically piled in all directions. Perusing the shelves of a well-stocked bookstore is a uniquely enjoyable experience. Once ensconced in the cozy confines of a bookstore, my sense of time falls away.

I can spend hours of uninterrupted time in a good bookshop as I pull from the shelves any book that offers a fresh perspective on an interesting topic, a memoir by a famous editor or writer, a novel I have always wanted to read, or a book about a period of history I know little about. Any book that captures my attention is fair game. You never know what gems you might find. Every bookstore can surprise you with an unexpected treasure. A special few call you back again and again.

Politics & Prose, Washington, D.C.

In the mid-1980s, a few years after I moved to Washington, DC, to attend law school, I discovered Politics & Prose, a wonderful independent bookstore then owned by Carla Cohen and Barbara Meade, two politically minded book lovers who had the crazy idea to start a bookstore full of books that they would want to read. When it opened in the fall of 1984, Politics & Prose was a small shop in a narrow, cozy, one-story unit on Connecticut Avenue. Its small inventory of books was dominated by serious nonfiction and its shelves were filled with high quality books worth reading. There were no romance novels or beach fiction. You were more likely to stumble across an esoteric university press title.

Along with a selection of classic English and American literature, the store was filled with political treatises and biographies, history, religion, philosophy, psychology, and art history. I wanted to read every book in the store. There was no wasted space, no coffee table books, games or puzzles. Only books full of good writing, challenging ideas, new and interesting perspectives. Within five years, the store’s inventory expanded to 15,000 titles and it moved across the street to its current, much larger location. The store became a community hub where top-shelf authors came to speak each night. It was staffed by doctoral students and people who knew and loved books. To this day, whenever I visit DC, I try to spend a little time there before heading home.

Bookstores are powerful spaces. A good bookstore shapes our thinking, influences our tastes, and contributes to our intellectual and spiritual development. It affects our thoughts, creative imagination, and understanding of the world around us. Benjamin Franklin, one of America’s first publishers and booksellers, believed that reading was an underutilized activity in the American colonies. Franklin believed the rise of bookshops and libraries made reading more fashionable, and he would later credit increased reading as one of the inspirations of the American Revolution.

As explained by Evan Friss in The Bookshop: A History of the American Bookstore (Viking Press, 2024), Thomas Paine’s pamphlet Common Sense, published in January 1776, helped radicalize the colonists in their journey toward independence. Friss, a professor of history at James Madison University, notes that Common Sense “argued forcefully for independence at a time when many were still undecided.” The pamphlet sold throughout the colonies and was read aloud in churches, coffee shops, and bookstores. Paine’s writing, “and that of other Enlightenment thinkers who promoted republicanism and attacked the monarchy and aristocracy, built an intellectual foundation for the Revolution, an event premised on a new way of thinking spelled out in books, pamphlets, and newspapers.” Printing and bookselling, writes Friss, thus “shaped education, intellectual life, and the means by which colonists consumed information and developed new ideologies, including revolutionary ones.”

The literature written and published during the Revolution not only inspired a nation, but it also led to the creation and growth of the modern American bookstore. With the help of Franklin and other intellectual leaders of the early American republic, books and bookshops became an important and influential force in American life. “Books hold ideas. Ideas hold power,” notes Friss. The bookstore developed into “a de facto public space, a meeting space, a communal space that wasn’t a house or church or political hall. In those cramped quarters, readers, writers, and literature gathered. It was intimate. It was far reaching. It was alive.”

The rise of the American bookstore also led to the art of browsing, lingering, and loitering among the rows of books. The pleasures of book browsing should not be undervalued. Browsing sometimes leads to sitting in a chair placed conveniently in the corner, close to the owner’s ten-year-old cocker spaniel sleeping on the floor a few feet away. Soon, you lose track of time as you become absorbed in the book that has caught your attention. This eventually gives rise to more browsing, and then to a conversation with the bookstore staff, before you wind up in the coffee shop next store with a newly purchased book in hand.

In many of the great independent bookstores across the United States, the owners and employees who stock the shelves and attend the front desk love books as deeply as the most avid readers. They know where each book is hidden away and have a knack for recommending just the right book at the right moment. People who love books love to talk about books, and it is these conversations that inspire new discoveries and innovative ideas. Bookstores have the power to alter lives. Their influence extends far beyond the shelves of the bookshop and into the lives and minds of readers, writers, and customers.

In The Bookshop, Friss introduces some of the great bookstores of the 19^th and 20^th centuries, including the Old Corner Bookstore in Boston, which sat on the corner of Washington Street and School Street. It was owned by James Fields and William Ticknor, who published and sold books from their bookshop but did not always make good business decisions. In 1854, as the buyer for the bookshop, Fields rejected a manuscript for a story written by Louisa May Alcott. “Stick to your teaching, Miss Alcott. You can’t write,” Fields told her.

Fortunately, although Fields and Alcott remained on friendly terms, and Fields even loaned Alcott forty dollars, Alcott did not listen to Fields’ sage advice. After she published Little Women years later to great fame and fortune, she returned to Old Corner, handed Fields the forty dollars he had lent her, and said, “I found writing paid so much better than teaching that I thought I’d stick to my pen.” Fields laughed and admitted his error in judgment. He and Alcott remained friends.

Ticknor and Fields exercised better foresight in 1860 when they bought the rights to Harriet Beecher Stow’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, a novel that sold exceptionally well and spread antislavery sentiment throughout the United States. Even in parts of the South, where the book was banned, Uncle Tom’s Cabin made the rounds through the enlightened souls who purchased the book by mail from bookstores in New York and Boston.

The Old Corner Bookstore ceased to exist when Ticknor died in 1864, and Fields sold the premises to another publisher. Today it is included on the Freedom Trail and the National Register of Historic Places. “It was once a literary jewel,” writes Friss, “a place where some of the greatest authors congregated, and a regular store . . . where books arrived, were put on the shelf, picked up, tasted, bought, read, and discussed. The Old Corner helped launch American literature and the American bookstore.” Sadly, on the historic site of Old Corner today sits a Chipotle, a reminder of the commercial priorities in American life.

A good bookstore can define a community. They are where ideas flourish and free speech thrives. The world is shaped by them. At successful independent bookstores, like Politics & Prose in Washington, Books & Books in Coral Gables, and The Strand in New York, speaking engagements by authors, book signings, group discussions, literary tours, and annual book fairs are part of the experience. Indeed, these events enrich the surrounding neighborhoods and allow the stores to become crucial community spaces, where people gather as much for social fellowship, and to converse and be educated, as to browse and buy books.

Owning and operating a bookstore is challenging. Bookstores are not the most commercially viable of enterprises. After all, a bookstore is one of the few places where patrons frequently linger for a long time without spending any money. They are low margin businesses that require large physical space, a combination that performs poorly in high-rent cities like New York, Washington, and San Francisco, even though enthusiastic readers disproportionately populate those cities.

Over the years, certain bookstores were less interested in making money than in pursuing a mission. Their purpose was to change the world. In 1967, Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop in New York’s Greenwich Village was opened not to make a profit, but to function as a welcoming space and information center for the gay community. It soon became a political launching pad and hub for the gay rights movement. Drum & Spear, which opened in Harlem in 1968 as part of a wave of Black-owned bookstores, sought to promote books by Black authors, books about Black history, literature, and Black liberation, and books for Black children that would instill pride in their heritage and skin color. These were more than bookstores. They were intellectual centers of the gay rights and Black Power movements, safe places where the gay and Black communities, respectively, could think, talk, read, and thrive at a time when most bookstores catered to mostly straight white customers.

Oscar Wilde and Drum & Spear both accomplished their desired aims. And both became victims of their own success, as the books they sold eventually became available in the larger bookstores, or online, or in new and competing mission-driven stores. Neither store is open today but, in their heyday, they were spaces that inspired political change and influenced what people read. They impacted the lives of thousands of people and fomented positive changes in American society.

The Joy of Books, Hendersonville, NC

Even a modest used bookstore is a gem. My sister Linda recently gave me a gift certificate for The Joy of Books, a used bookstore in a narrow, confined space in Hendersonville, North Carolina, with a small but fine collection of books on history, literature, poetry, religion, and philosophy. On our last visit to Hendersonville, I picked out a two-volume biography of John Adams that Andrea wanted and had discovered on the library shelves of the bed and breakfast inn where we stayed, a book by historian Douglas Brinkley on America’s race to the moon in the 1960s (American Moonshot: John F. Kennedy and America’s Race to the Moon), and Walter Isaacson’s Einstein: His Life and Universe. But the most pleasurable part of the gift was in the experience of browsing, looking, handling, and sampling dozens of books before it was time to go.

From the nation’s founding and throughout American history, bookstores, small and large, successful and unsuccessful, have impacted American life. Bookstores are magical places full of discovery, where one can get lost in the pages and ignore the passage of time. They are community spaces, places where ideas are hatched, where democracy is born and nurtured, and where the world is changed and transformed for the better. As long as I am alive, I will love books and the gift of reading. And wherever I find myself, I will always search the streets for a good bookshop to browse, linger, and feel at home.

A Nation of Immigrants: Has America Lost Its Way?

“Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” – Emma Lazarus

America is a nation of blended cultures, ethnicities, and religions – Black, brown, and white, Latino and Asian, African and Middle Eastern, European and South American, Jew, Christian, Muslim, and so much more. We are a country defined as much by our differences as our similarities. It is the beauty of this country and the source of our greatest tensions. But what makes us all Americans? 

Only those descended from Indigenous populations can claim direct links to this land of ours. For the rest of us, all our families at some point in time, even those who came over on The Mayflower, arrived in this country from somewhere else. What makes all of us American, the one thing that distinguishes us from everyone else, is our commitment to the U.S. Constitution and rule of law. The Constitution is the rulebook that guides and governs our daily life, and it is the document to which every person who becomes a U.S. citizen must swear an oath. And that—not values, morality, ethnicity, or personal history—is the only thing we all share, the one common denominator that makes us American.

Carlos Lozado of The Washington Post has explained that, to be an American, is a choice we must make every day:

We aren’t the land of opportunity or a nation of immigrants or equal before the law just because we say that’s what we are. Our leaders don’t respect our rights or derive their powers from our consent just because that’s how it is supposed to be. We become those things — we remain those things — only if we strive for them, without ceasing, and even then nothing is guaranteed. After all, the Declaration did not win independence; it only gave it a purpose.

It took a bloody and violent revolution and years of war and internal debate before the nation’s Founders agreed on the language in our Constitution and the rights enumerated in it. We rejected monarchy and created a governing system that consists of an elected Congress, an elected president, an appointed judicial system based on the rule of law, and a Bill of Rights limiting the power of government to restrict our speech, infringe on our religious freedoms, enter our homes without a judicial warrant, or deprive us of life, liberty, or property without due process. As Benjamin Franklin famously said, “It is a republic, if you can keep it.”

Except for native Americans and African American families whose ancestors were brought here forcibly against their will, we are indeed a nation of immigrants, a land of destiny for millions of Americans who fled their homelands and landed on American shores in search of a better life. Although the darker forces of history, isolationism, and nativism have frequently thrown cold water on the idealized American myth that we are a land of refuge, since our founding and through the long arc of history we have in fact welcomed people from all over the world and provided them a chance to make it in America.

Americans have long prided themselves on the belief that we are a beacon of liberty, a light unto the nations, and that people from all over the world go to extreme lengths to arrive at our shores in search of freedom, liberty, and justice. At our best moments, we are a generous nation, a land of opportunity and new beginnings for anyone willing to work hard, play fair, and commit to the rule of law. It is, of course, essential that we protect our borders and enforce laws that regulate admission into the country. But for those seeking asylum from persecution in foreign lands, or those desiring to work in jobs most Americans refuse to do, the United States historically has offered an avenue to citizenship.

Sadly, as we celebrate the 249^th year since we declared independence from the British monarchy, the American ideal of a nation that symbolizes freedom from tyranny, and where the rule of law prevails, is proving to be more myth than reality. Under the Trump administration, we are no longer a welcoming nation. Immigrants and refugees are treated as less than human. Even the millions of immigrants who are here legally and are following all the rules, those who attend college or work and pay taxes and dream of one day becoming fully American, are at risk of being snatched on the street by masked ICE agents and put into a detention camp or whisked away on a plane to an unfamiliar foreign land. Although the administration claims that ICE is targeting only the worst-of-the-worst, the hardened criminals, this is a bald-faced lie, for the facts prove entirely to the contrary.

To placate the sadistic Stephen Miller, Trump’s man in charge of the mass deportation efforts, and to achieve his arbitrarily imposed quota of 3,000 detentions per day, ICE is now raiding construction sites, farms, and other workplaces that employ large numbers of immigrants, arresting and detaining the undocumented and fast-tracking deportation. These are people simply trying to live the American dream, who are working and providing for their families. They are not hardened criminals; most have no criminal record.

They are people like 19-year-old college student Arias Cristobal, whose family brought her here from Mexico without documentation when she was four years old. In May, Arias was mistakenly pulled over by a police officer in Dalton, Georgia, and arrested over her protestations. “I cannot go to jail,” she said, “I have my finals next week. My family depends on this.” Despite having committed no crime, not even a traffic violation, she spent exam week behind bars. Fortunately, a judge recently released Arias on bail and the officer who wrongfully arrested her has resigned from the police department. But the administration still intends to deport Arias and her father.

Arias Cristobal

They are people like the Tufts University PhD student from Turkey, Rumeysa Ozturk, who was physically grabbed by four masked ICE agents in plain clothes from the streets of Somerville, Massachusetts, while she was walking to meet friends for dinner. Ozturk, who was legally in the United States on a student visa, spent six weeks in a Louisiana detention center, housed in a mouse-infested cell with twenty-three other women. A federal judge ordered her released after determining that the government arrested her as retaliation for exercising her right to free speech – co-authoring a student editorial critical of the human toll of Israel’s war in Gaza. 

Rumeysa Ozturk, Tufts University PhD Student

They are people like 17-year-old Jose Adalberto Herrara, who was arrested on his way to work with his uncle when a Maine state trooper stopped the minivan they were in. Herrara had arrived in the United States as an unaccompanied minor at the age of twelve and, with the government’s assistance, eventually reunited with his family in Lewiston, Maine. He had no criminal record and currently sits alone in a New York detention facility, once again separated from his family.

Jose Adalberto Herrara

They are people like Andry Hernandez Romero, 32, a gay makeup artist who entered the United States last year in search of asylum after facing threats and harassment in his home country due to his sexual orientation. Romero has no criminal record and was one of 238 Venezuelan migrants sent to El Salvador’s Terrorism Confinement Center (CECOT), notorious for its cruel and inhumane treatment, where prisoners are beaten and physically and psychologically abused in violation of international human rights standards. Once there, the prisoners have almost no hope of ever being released. Like everyone sent to CECOT, the government provided Romero with no hearing, no due process, and no opportunity to establish that he is not the “terrorist” and “gang member” the administration claims (without evidence) that he is.

Andrey Hernandez Romero

And they are people like Jerce Reyes Barrios, a 36-year-old professional soccer player and coach from Venezuela. Berrios has no criminal record, and he followed the rules in seeking asylum at the U.S.-Mexico border after fleeing from violence in his home country. The government has tried to claim that Barrios is a Tren de Aragua gang member based on his tattoos, which consist of a soccer ball topped with a crown to represent his favorite team, Spanish club Real Madrid. His other tattoos include the names of his daughters, Isabela and Carla Antonella, a map of Venezuela, a star, and a goalkeeper, his soccer position. Like Romero, ICE sent Berrios to El Salvador’s CECOT prison, where he has almost no hope of ever getting out. The United States Government charged Berrios with no crime and provided him with no due process, and now he has no ability or means to reverse the injustice that occurred.

Jerce Reyes Barrios and daughter

These are only five examples of the human lives impacted by Trump’s mass deportation efforts. There are thousands more just like them, as the government continues to round up seemingly everyone but the murderers and rapists, terrorists and gang members, promised by Team Trump. The problem for Miller and company is that, as explained by Will Bunch of The Philadelphia Inquirer, “The U.S. population of undocumented immigrants doesn’t have huge numbers of hardened criminals – not surprising since study after study has shown migrants commit crimes at lower rates than native-born Americans.” (See, e.g., American Immigration Council, “Debunking the Myth of Immigrants and Crime”)

The recently passed Big Ugly Bill – the cruelest and most immoral legislatively enacted budget in American history – commits almost $170 billion to unprecedented levels of immigration enforcement and border-related operations. The administration intends to hire thousands of new ICE agents and more than double the number of ICE detention centers (which financially benefits the companies that contributed large money to Trump and his inauguration). Another $46 billion will be spent on a major expansion of Trump’s border wall that is specifically designed to keep out the brave, the poor, and the “huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”

And then there is “Alligator Alcatraz,” a new ICE detention center in the Everglades, which can only be described as an American concentration camp. With a projected capacity of 5,000 beds, the camp will forcibly detain immigrants in improvised tents and chain-link cages that will put them on display. The migrants will endure south Florida’s extreme heat, disease-infested mosquitoes, and harsh swamp conditions. Expedited “hearings” will be overseen by National Guard members playing the role of immigration judge. As described by Andrea Pitzer, author of One Long Night: A Global History of Concentration Camps (Little Brown and Company, 2017): “This facility’s purpose fits the classic model: mass civilian detention without real trials targeting vulnerable groups for political gain based on ethnicity, race, religion or political affiliation rather than for crimes committed.”

Shame on Trump. Shame on America. The Statue of Liberty is but a lonely and forgotten symbol of a once honorable past. One day I hope Stephen Miller, Tom Homan, Kristi Noem, Pam Bondi, and the president will be held to account, although I have for the first time in my life begun to lose hope that accountability is even possible in America today. Is it apathy? Are people simply exhausted by the sheer magnitude of this administration’s disregard for the rule of law, the norms of civil society, any respect for truth and facts? Or has America simply turned inward and given up on morality and compassion?

All my life I have loved America and have been proud to be an American. But pride is quickly giving way to mortification, for what is happening in our country today is enough to make one ashamed of being American. What I am witnessing – what all of us are witnessing – is a nation that has lost its way.

For at least the past 25 years, Congress, due mostly to Republican opposition, has rejected all attempts at enacting comprehensive immigration reform that addresses border security while providing a pathway for citizenship for undocumented immigrants. Shamefully, early in 2024, Trump insisted that House Republicans reject a bipartisan solution passed by the Senate (and favored by conservatives) because he cynically wished to politically exploit anti-immigrant sentiment to help him win the election. And it worked.

“Everywhere immigrants have enriched and strengthened American life,” wrote John F. Kennedy in his 1958 book entitled A Nation of Immigrants. Demonizing immigrants may be good politics, but it ignores America’s historic dependence on immigrants and devalues the very essence of what it is to be an American. Trump’s immigration enforcement efforts represent the worst elements of our character. “The American Dream may be slipping away,” according to Jon Meacham. “To recover the Dream requires knowing where it came from, how it lasted so long and why it matters so much.”

For the sake of America and the world, I hope that we will find a way to heal our divisions, respect the beauty of our rich cultural diversity, and demonstrate to the world that we are indeed a welcoming nation, and a kind one. I hope that one day soon we will regain confidence in our democratic heritage and the strength of our Constitution to allow us, in the words of former New York Governor Mario Cuomo, to “believe in a government strong enough to use words like ‘love’ and ‘compassion’ and smart enough to convert our noblest aspirations into practical realities.” Changing times have always demanded that we embrace new values and viewpoints. The health and very existence of our democracy and the country depend on it.