Pianist Charles Rosen blogs in the New York Review of Books about The Lost Pleasure of Browsing, writing,
I have read that more books in the United States are now sold online than in bookstores, and have noticed—and assume a causal connection—that there are less books on the shelves of stores. Since I almost never want to buy a book until I have held it in my hands and riffled through the pages, this means that I shall be purchasing fewer books in the future. Just as well, I suppose, as there is no space on my shelves. continue reading
I sympathize with Mr. Rosen, I feel the same. I also saw him once reading a paperback by one my favorite mystery authors, Emma Lathen, when he was sitting across the aisle from me in the Ozawa Concert Hall at Tanglewood – my kind of person! And what does that all have to do with Stamford, one may ask? I've been thinking lately about that endangered species, the Independent Bookseller, as well as used book stores, in Stamford. Of the former, there are none – zilch – one has to go to Noroton, New Canaan, or Old Greenwich. And of course, one often has to order a book, meaning again one can't browse through it before deciding to buy it. As to the latter, at least we have the Friends of Ferguson Library and their book shops. But no real antiquarian book dealer in sight.
It does look like Mr. Rosen and I are part of a dying bread. Moreover, perfectly sane friends of mine swear by or yearn for a Kindle or a Kindle-like device.
And adding insult to injury, now the government soon wants to tax me when I receive a review copy from a publisher and blog the review. As to "there is no space on my shelves," yes that's true for me too, but then again there is always space on the floor …