Rizzoli Books

A newspaper article in January noted that the famous Rizzoli Bookstore of New York might have to move again because the building it occupies is set for demolition. Originally the bookstore opened on Fifth Avenue in 1964. It moved around the corner to 57th Street when its nineteenth century building was demolished in favor of a new office tower. Almost three decades later the bookstore is faced with a similar problem.

Interior of Rizzoli Bookstore (March 2014)

After reading the article I went to Rizzoli’s website and read through the blog. A number of famous people have shopped at the store and it has hosted its share of parties. One of my favorite stories was the day David Bowie made some purchases and presented his credit card, which used his actual name: David Jones. The clerk looked at the card and asked: “Hey, weren’t you in The Monkees?”

I decided to pay my respects to the venerable place in March, realizing that I probably would not be in the city again before it closed. Scaffolding already surrounded the outside of the building and inside people were measuring bookshelves and stacking oversized manuscripts onto trolleys. It was a signal that no stay of execution was likely. The three stories of the building were stocked with interesting books, foreign magazines, and individual alcoves were dedicated to Italian, French and Spanish-language books. A number of interesting literary and travel posters dotted the walls. Perhaps the most striking feature of the store are the chandeliers that produce a soft light in a space that is darker than most modern retail outlets.

Can a chain bookstore offer me less expensive books? Yes. Can they offer a cup of (overpriced) coffee while considering my purchases? Sure. Can I come across titles, authors and ideas I have not considered in a chain store? Of course. Why, then, would I consider the loss of a bookstore like Rizzoli important?

I suppose that there are a number of answers to that question. Nostalgia is certainly important, but the “law of the good neighbor” is top most in my mind. Because independent bookstores have a wider range of interesting (not necessarily marketable) titles, it is far more likely that an interesting discovery could happen. The law of the good neighbor suggests that, typically, the information you seek is not in the book you are looking for, but instead in the book right next to it. I would argue that explorations in an independent bookstore are more organic than in a chain; however, I would not deny that discoveries happen in all bookstores. (I worry that our discoveries might be extremely limited if all of our book purchases were online.)

More importantly, however, is the unique space where the books live prior to finding a new home. There is something more ennobling in a store that is not flooded by fluorescent light. Intimate spaces like Rizzoli invite us to make real connections with books and ideas. As we search for discoveries, we are not limited to literary treasures. The odd corner or alcove is packed with precious gems that await our adventurous exploration.