Day 173
Recently we had friends from Canada who were here on their honeymoon in Paris. I asked if their kids had given them any souvenir requests. They said both of their teenagers had requested an old book. Well then, most certainly, they’d come to the right place.
You can tell something about a culture by watching what people choose to do on the subway. The Parisiens still like their books, the paper kind. Tablets have not snuffed out the bookstores in Paris. As a book lover, I’m particularly enamored with opportunities to buy used, vintage, antique, are rare books. I have paid more than I care to admit for The Meanest Squirrel I Ever Met or some of my favorite Wanda Gag books.
What makes the used book market different here is its age, as in how old is old? North America is a young upstart. There have been people living in this Paris location since 9800 BC. Once books became common, it’s easy to imagine them being tucked away in attics, only to be dusted off hundreds of years later. There are many places to buy rare vintage books. There are stores, tables at flea markets, but my favorite by far is the weekend book market, Livres Ancien.
You walk through the Parc Georges-Brassens and realize this is where the children have been hiding. Past the carousel, on Rue Brancion are two long covered pavilions with tables and tables of books and nothing else. Every weekend since 1987, sixty or so book sellers set up shop, each with their unique niche. When we were there, both the sellers and buyers were almost exclusively men–there were more dogs present than women. But what a market! There are children’s books, out of print books, many collections, coffee table picture books, comics, even newspapers. Each summer there is a sale when you can buy books by the kilo. Now, that’s a sale my mom would appreciate, see The Book Bequeath.
