The mere mention of bookstores in the 21st century may conjure up an image of sorrow and a degrading cultural landscape. Well, perhaps to most older folks who have had to watch bookstores go down and online sales of physical and digital print become a burden on the bookseller. But it’s not as big of a downfall as one may think. It’s a complicated world that booksellers struggle to occupy and this documentary gives them a spotlight to shine on both the past and present of dealing in the written word.
The Booksellers interviews numerous lovers of books devoted to the selling and preservation of the medium. They tell tales of the old days when New York City had over 300 bookstores, compared to now where there are less than a hundred. I especially dug the details of how these stores functioned. One of which was run by old Jewish men who only had the store as an excuse to read books all day, being unknowing of their stock and angry if you asked them about a book. They were once many and now there are so few. That’s the bad news. The good news is that those devoted to books have remained, in it for far more than just reading all day.
The sellers present in the film cannot wait to tell you about their collections, given a smooth introduction with sophisticated jazz amid classy title cards. One seller brings out his biggest books to show an old codex of fish with life-size illustrations. Another entertains with the story of how their love for The Wizard of Oz led to them being a highly sought collector among universities and celebrated authors. And yet another had quite the stories to tell of books assembled from human elements of flesh and bone.
Several sellers have branched out into being experts on the worth of books, guest-starring on such programs as Pawn Stars and Antique Roadshow to offer up their expertise. They showcase how such branching out has both improved their image and inspired others. Most of the film strolls around a book convention where numerous sellers share their experiences of trying to attract buyers. Most of them cry, either from seeing such old publications or looking at the price tag of $100,000+.
Though the film does try to shirk the stereotype that booksellers are not much different than the stuffy librarians satirized in such programs as Black Books, they’re aware of who they are. The majority of them are older and knowing they won’t be long for this world. As the film draws to a close, many of them have already laid out their plans for what will happen to their books once their lives are over. They don’t seem too worried about where they will be placed. Moreover, they’re not worried about the future of books themselves. Sure, big bookstores have perished and digital sales on Kindles have hindered physical sales. But the sellers take note of how younger people are far more likely to read physical books than older people. As for the big book stores, for the booksellers that celebrated the smaller independent stores, they don’t mind such business crushing corporations going down. The books will still be there and hopefully the small shops.
The Booksellers breathes with both history and hope for books. As someone who adores reading physical books, loves visiting independent bookshops, and can’t find my Kindle reading device for the life of me, I’d say books will be in good hands, even if they reside in a more niche cultural landscape. Nothing beats a good book and this documentary more or less celebrates that love.