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katdfleming's review against another edition
5.0
An absolute gem and must-have for anyone who loves books and bookstores. Melts on your tongue like fine chocolate.
book_concierge's review against another edition
3.0
The subtitle is: A Memoir, a History. That pretty much describes this book. Buzbee has been in the book business virtually his whole life, starting as a part-time clerk when he was a teen. He’s worked at the counter, in the back room and on the road (as a publisher’s rep). And he’s also visited bookshops around the world on his own – he can’t help himself.
I am a big fan of independent bookstores and have been a loyal customer of several in my city. It was one of those indies that first brought this book to my attention and I’ve wanted to read it for a long time. I think I must have built it up in my mind and my expectations were too high. As a result I feel a little disappointed.
What I liked most about the book were his stories about bookshops from his personal experience, i.e. the memoir sections. But Buzbee also gives the reader a history of books – from clay tablets to scrolls to paper – and book-selling. And those sections I found less engaging. Yes they were somewhat interesting (I learned the derivation of “sheepskin” for diploma), but they were dry and lacked the personal connection of the memoir.
Still, there are several sections that I’m very glad I read. One of those is Buzbee’s argument to those who say that a book is too expensive; he’s specifically addressing the $25.00 price tag of a hardcover new release.
Today a San Francisco movie ticket will set you back $10.00. Two hours later, give or take, and poof, that money is nothing but your memory, at least until you pony up another $20.00 for the DVD. A 400-page novel will probably take at least 8 hours to read. Once you buy a book, it’s yours, and you can mark and look up at your leisure that one terrific paragraph that keeps floating through your head.
The technology of the book is much more flexible than film, more user friendly. The reader can dip into the book at will, without electricity, and is always aware of where she is in the book, halfway through, a third of the way, mere pages from the end, her fingers helping to measure the excitement of coming to the conclusion. Watching a scene from a film in slow motion is possible, but there’s an unreal air to it; reading a passage from a book slowly does nothing to rob the words of their power.
I am a big fan of independent bookstores and have been a loyal customer of several in my city. It was one of those indies that first brought this book to my attention and I’ve wanted to read it for a long time. I think I must have built it up in my mind and my expectations were too high. As a result I feel a little disappointed.
What I liked most about the book were his stories about bookshops from his personal experience, i.e. the memoir sections. But Buzbee also gives the reader a history of books – from clay tablets to scrolls to paper – and book-selling. And those sections I found less engaging. Yes they were somewhat interesting (I learned the derivation of “sheepskin” for diploma), but they were dry and lacked the personal connection of the memoir.
Still, there are several sections that I’m very glad I read. One of those is Buzbee’s argument to those who say that a book is too expensive; he’s specifically addressing the $25.00 price tag of a hardcover new release.
Today a San Francisco movie ticket will set you back $10.00. Two hours later, give or take, and poof, that money is nothing but your memory, at least until you pony up another $20.00 for the DVD. A 400-page novel will probably take at least 8 hours to read. Once you buy a book, it’s yours, and you can mark and look up at your leisure that one terrific paragraph that keeps floating through your head.
The technology of the book is much more flexible than film, more user friendly. The reader can dip into the book at will, without electricity, and is always aware of where she is in the book, halfway through, a third of the way, mere pages from the end, her fingers helping to measure the excitement of coming to the conclusion. Watching a scene from a film in slow motion is possible, but there’s an unreal air to it; reading a passage from a book slowly does nothing to rob the words of their power.
cgcpoems's review against another edition
funny
informative
reflective
medium-paced
3.0
Having been first published in 2006, I found that so much has changed with the book world (particularly with online retailers, ebooks, & audiobooks) that this celebration of bookstores didn’t really resonate with me as much as it would’ve 20 years ago. This is no fault of the author, though, and I can’t hold it against him.
What I can hold against the author is how his tone, at times snobby, seeped into so much of this book. It’s labeled as both memoir & history so I expected a little
personal narrative, but I found that the author’s attitude was one of superiority. I wanted to relate to his stories of loving bookstores and visiting them frequently but found myself distracted by him as a person, or the books he continued lauding (almost all by white male authors long gone).
Overall, I don’t think this book has aged very well. For that, I’ll say it’s one you can skip.
What I can hold against the author is how his tone, at times snobby, seeped into so much of this book. It’s labeled as both memoir & history so I expected a little
personal narrative, but I found that the author’s attitude was one of superiority. I wanted to relate to his stories of loving bookstores and visiting them frequently but found myself distracted by him as a person, or the books he continued lauding (almost all by white male authors long gone).
Overall, I don’t think this book has aged very well. For that, I’ll say it’s one you can skip.
jgintrovertedreader's review against another edition
3.0
Lewis Buzbee has worked around books his entire life. He worked at the local bookstore through school, and then he worked as a publisher's rep, and I can't even remember what else. This slim, satisfying volume is almost a collection of essays about his thoughts on bookstores, books, readers, and publishing.
I believe I was most excited by the first chapter of this book, "Alone Among Others." I might have things slightly confused, but I believe this was the chapter where the author spelled out the level of his book lust. I'm a voracious reader. I get it. I thought about marking the passages I liked and quickly realized I would be marking everything I was reading.
The book lost me a little after that. I'm not particularly interested in the history of books or how we landed on the perfect shape for a bookstore.
I did like the story of Shakespeare and Co. in Paris and how they came to publish Ulysses and the store's midnight move during WWII.
At the end is a list of some of the author's favorite bookstores from various places. My own local indie, Malaprops, got a mention! It's always exciting to see local favorites mentioned in unexpected places.
I love the size and shape of this book. It's a hardcover but it still fits my hands perfectly, and so I found myself just enjoying the feel of it.
Also, I do love bookstores, but in my heart, I'm a library girl. My mom took my sister and me to the library as far back as I can remember. My first job was at the local library. Even now, when I have stacks upon stacks of books that I own and haven't read yet, the vast majority have come from library book sales and will in all likelihood be donated back for later sales. I get a little overwhelmed in the bookstore. What if I spend all this money on a book and it's not a keeper? I could have just checked it out from the library. Don't get me wrong--I can happily browse in a bookstore for hours, but I'm not all that likely to actually walk out with anything unless an author I love has recently published something that I just have to have.
So that's where my taste and the author's diverged. That doesn't mean the book was bad. Those who do spend more time and money in bookstores will likely take more away from this book.
I believe I was most excited by the first chapter of this book, "Alone Among Others." I might have things slightly confused, but I believe this was the chapter where the author spelled out the level of his book lust. I'm a voracious reader. I get it. I thought about marking the passages I liked and quickly realized I would be marking everything I was reading.
The book lost me a little after that. I'm not particularly interested in the history of books or how we landed on the perfect shape for a bookstore.
I did like the story of Shakespeare and Co. in Paris and how they came to publish Ulysses and the store's midnight move during WWII.
At the end is a list of some of the author's favorite bookstores from various places. My own local indie, Malaprops, got a mention! It's always exciting to see local favorites mentioned in unexpected places.
I love the size and shape of this book. It's a hardcover but it still fits my hands perfectly, and so I found myself just enjoying the feel of it.
Also, I do love bookstores, but in my heart, I'm a library girl. My mom took my sister and me to the library as far back as I can remember. My first job was at the local library. Even now, when I have stacks upon stacks of books that I own and haven't read yet, the vast majority have come from library book sales and will in all likelihood be donated back for later sales. I get a little overwhelmed in the bookstore. What if I spend all this money on a book and it's not a keeper? I could have just checked it out from the library. Don't get me wrong--I can happily browse in a bookstore for hours, but I'm not all that likely to actually walk out with anything unless an author I love has recently published something that I just have to have.
So that's where my taste and the author's diverged. That doesn't mean the book was bad. Those who do spend more time and money in bookstores will likely take more away from this book.
cindyjac's review against another edition
4.0
If you love books, bookstores, reading, talking about reading, the history of bookstores....everything books, you will enjoy this. Interestingly, he writes (almost ten years ago) about the future of ereaders and booksellers like Amazon in a questioning light; I purchased this book (after reading about it in another book) through Amazon's used books; and received it in discontinued library format from the Evansville library; I'm in California. I think the future of reading is bright!
rampaginglibrarian's review against another edition
4.0
an ode to the counter life
In The Yellow-Lighted Bookshop: a memoir, a history Lewis Buzbee manages to evoke the first discovery/infatuation of books for those of us who later became obsessed by them. I could relate to so much of his description his childhood~memories of the Scholastic Weekly Reader and all those books i wanted to order but Mom would only let me buy a few (if only i had more of her moderation now).
Though Buzbee worked in bookstores and also as a publisher's sales rep he still visits bookstores of every kind and with every chance he gets. When he does so, he describes it with the love and awe that i remember having before becoming the "bibliocareerist" that i am today, and that i fear i've lost. It was wonderful to read about it and remember.
Buzbee also gives a wonderful history of booksellers and bookprinting that is interesting and gives details that i either didn't learn or have forgotten from my History of the Book and Printmaking (or whatever that class was called~i don't even remember) in Library School. He also makes a wonderful proposal:
"a two-year mandatory retail service for all citizens and legal residents. no amount of family money or influence, or college dedication, would relieve you from this service. Mandatory; no exceptions. Only the luck of the draw would put you to work in a record store or a bookstore; the rest would have to work in the food industry (tho Buzbee himself has never worked in the food industry~as i have~if he had he would know it is an entirely different beast) or at the Gap (some might prefer this option), or heaven forbid, Wal-mart.
* * *
The benefits of mandatory retail service are, I think many sided. The bank accounts of parents putting their children through college would be far less depleted by cell-phone charges, drinking games and trips to Europe, these liberated funds could be invested to support our failed and failing corporations. Social Security coffers would grow. Because retail employees learn firsthand about the basic tools of business, colleges and universities would be able to restaff humanities departments with the money saved on accounting courses. (i'm not so sure about that) Sales of sturdy shoes would skyrocket.
The greatest benefit to my little plan would be in the creation of a truly kinder and gentler nation. Imagine that every American citizen had at one time worked in retail, and you might glimpse the possibility of a future in which all us, participating in our national pastime, shopping, would have more patience. We would understand that items are sometimes out of stock and life does continues, that service without a smile is still service, that getting rid of your small change is not one of life's more laudable goals, nor is cashing out a speed trial."
Love the idea (of mandatory retail service)~as unrealistic and unpractical the issues of carrying out such a plan may be...
I really enjoyed reading this book, especially his recommendations of bookstores to visit on the West Coast and Paris. I was a bit disappointed in his admitted "undereducation" of stores in the Midwest or East coast as it marred his modern history just a touch with the over thirty-year history of (what has BECOME) a chain near and dear to my heart (tho i'm more than a little bitter about the whole chain/corporate aspects of it all~because that's not quite how it started out~but what can we do?) He also missed the small city that has the highest number of bookstores per capita, but other than those (very) small issues i loved the book...
In The Yellow-Lighted Bookshop: a memoir, a history Lewis Buzbee manages to evoke the first discovery/infatuation of books for those of us who later became obsessed by them. I could relate to so much of his description his childhood~memories of the Scholastic Weekly Reader and all those books i wanted to order but Mom would only let me buy a few (if only i had more of her moderation now).
Though Buzbee worked in bookstores and also as a publisher's sales rep he still visits bookstores of every kind and with every chance he gets. When he does so, he describes it with the love and awe that i remember having before becoming the "bibliocareerist" that i am today, and that i fear i've lost. It was wonderful to read about it and remember.
Buzbee also gives a wonderful history of booksellers and bookprinting that is interesting and gives details that i either didn't learn or have forgotten from my History of the Book and Printmaking (or whatever that class was called~i don't even remember) in Library School. He also makes a wonderful proposal:
"a two-year mandatory retail service for all citizens and legal residents. no amount of family money or influence, or college dedication, would relieve you from this service. Mandatory; no exceptions. Only the luck of the draw would put you to work in a record store or a bookstore; the rest would have to work in the food industry (tho Buzbee himself has never worked in the food industry~as i have~if he had he would know it is an entirely different beast) or at the Gap (some might prefer this option), or heaven forbid, Wal-mart.
* * *
The benefits of mandatory retail service are, I think many sided. The bank accounts of parents putting their children through college would be far less depleted by cell-phone charges, drinking games and trips to Europe, these liberated funds could be invested to support our failed and failing corporations. Social Security coffers would grow. Because retail employees learn firsthand about the basic tools of business, colleges and universities would be able to restaff humanities departments with the money saved on accounting courses. (i'm not so sure about that) Sales of sturdy shoes would skyrocket.
The greatest benefit to my little plan would be in the creation of a truly kinder and gentler nation. Imagine that every American citizen had at one time worked in retail, and you might glimpse the possibility of a future in which all us, participating in our national pastime, shopping, would have more patience. We would understand that items are sometimes out of stock and life does continues, that service without a smile is still service, that getting rid of your small change is not one of life's more laudable goals, nor is cashing out a speed trial."
Love the idea (of mandatory retail service)~as unrealistic and unpractical the issues of carrying out such a plan may be...
I really enjoyed reading this book, especially his recommendations of bookstores to visit on the West Coast and Paris. I was a bit disappointed in his admitted "undereducation" of stores in the Midwest or East coast as it marred his modern history just a touch with the over thirty-year history of (what has BECOME) a chain near and dear to my heart (tho i'm more than a little bitter about the whole chain/corporate aspects of it all~because that's not quite how it started out~but what can we do?) He also missed the small city that has the highest number of bookstores per capita, but other than those (very) small issues i loved the book...
gwalt118's review against another edition
4.0
If anyone loves books and is interested in learning more about the book selling and publishing industry, this is a must read. It's very insightful. I truly appreciate the independent bookstores, even more than I did before.
psheehy's review against another edition
5.0
A beautiful book through and through, right down to its deckle-edged pages. And what better place to start than with this tiny book's pages, heavy and yellowed, and its inside cover, shining a bright sunshine canary like, well, a yellow-lighted bookshop on a foggy San Francisco afternoon. The book itself is a pleasure just to hold. But who cares what the book feels like? Oh, dear reader, that's exactly the point. This is Lewis Buzbee's love poem to books—real, tangible books—and everything about The Yellow-Lighted Bookshop has been given due attention. Buzbee's prose is fluid and playful, his paragraphs tidy and well-constructed. The research is thorough: It doesn't matter how much of a bibliophile you are, you will learn something. About bookmaking, or book-selling, or book-buying, or simply book-reading. Most important, the narrative is a splendid mix of memoir and history, and there's never too much of either, because too much of either would be too much indeed. Sure, The Yellow-Lighted Bookshop is not for everyone, but Buzbee readily admits that: "The literary culture within any society—those who cherish books, who read, write, publish, and sell them—has always been a small community." But for those living within that small community—and even some living without—there will be no putting it down. In the end, Buzbee offers more than just a history lesson on the evolution of the bookshop and these things we call books. He invites the reader to share in his joy for reading, a contagious energy that's near impossible to ignore. Simply put, this book makes you want to read, and read, and read. Isn't that what it's all about?
kal17's review against another edition
informative
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
I think this is a great and informative look at the history of books/bookshops industries in the form of a memoir.
bekab20's review against another edition
5.0
Where has this one been all my life? A true treasure for all book and bookstore lovers!