It is the kind of bookshop that people go to to line up and have that experience of being in a place where you can just soaked in the literary and artistic air and go all out on being a bookworm. On the eighth of February 2014, we visited Shakespeare and Company on 7 Rue de la Bûcherie, near the Notre Dame Cathedral. To the left is the Antiquarian Bookshop and to the right is the Main Bookstore.
I have been looking forward to be inside Shakespeare and Company ever since I saw pictures of it some years back. The photos made me feel that the shop has a soul of its own. Or maybe souls… what with all the writers of the books displayed on its shelves, who might have come back to the place to check how many people are actually buying their masterpieces. Hehe. Kidding aside, this bookstore was originally named as “Le Mistral” when George Whitman opened it in 1951. They later change the name to Shakespeare and Company in 1964 to honor American (and adopted Parisian) publisher and bookseller Sylvia Beach, who opened the first Shakespeare and Company Bookstore in 1919.
Two men were singing and playing their guitars when we were there. I was seated on a couch at the bookstore’s second floor staring at the typewriters, tables, chairs and beds (where, they said, writers slept on during the period when they are working on their stories) while listening to a writer and singer discussing their respective projects at the moment.
Downstairs, I heard the musician with the red scarf ending his song while the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. (I later learned that the man’s name is Davy Lyons. See post script for details about him.)
Afternoon was perfect.
I felt like crying and… writing.
P.S. Originally wrote these lines but I thought, well, let’s keep this entry simple since it will mostly be about pictures. But I hate to discard this. So here goes the lines that didn’t make it at the top of this post. Hehehe.
Two men singing outside a bookshop, where people were lining up to get in.
That was the scene that greeted me when I reached Shakespeare and Company in the afternoon of February 8.
Goosebumps.
The voice of the man wearing a red scarf was soothing and surprisingly clear even without the aid of a microphone. Something was so Parisian about it when I saw a small container with coins on it and people stopping by to drop a euro or two in it. Jeff had a different way of expressing his awe. He bought a sandwich and gave it to them. I later learned that the musician’s name is Davy Lyons. Jeff gave him a business card after he handed the sandwich and Davy emailed to extend his thank you. I went to Youtube and found another video of Davy Lyons.
FIN.
