My tattered copies of Madeleine L’Engle. Every single book in the Anne of Green Gables series. A well-worn Island of the Blue Dolphins. And the boxed set of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s complete Little House works… now standing faded and creased but tall beside the gorgeous edition produced by The Folio Society… deep red covers which, when lined up in order, show across the spines covered wagons heading West embossed in gold. Both gifts from my parents at different, special points in my life.
I know these beloved stories – and so many more – made their way into my childhood via The Haunted Bookshop. Despite advertising itself as “A General Bookstore,” and featuring the elderly scholar from Carl Spitzweg’s painting The Bookworm on its bookmarks, The Haunted Bookshop had the largest selection of children’s books in my hometown of Tucson.
Searching online for photographs of the store, I found only articles on its 1997 closing. The authors described the creative children’s space – but interestingly, omitted mention of the feature I remember most. A fake tree winding around the book displays that kids clambered in, on, and around. Am I misremembering? Conflating memories of the bookstore with those countless happy hours playing on all that “dangerous” playground equipment at my nearby elementary school? Borrowing images from Swiss Family Robinson? Or, was it just that those article writers never actually visited the shop as children?
It doesn’t really matter. It’s a testament to the imaginative power of little literary worlds like The Haunted Bookshop. To me, it was a forest of learning. The Haunted Bookshop had taken its name from a 1919 mystery by American writer Christopher Morley. The novel’s bookshop serves as both the setting for the suspenseful story and a reference to Morley’s theme of meeting the great minds of the past through their writings.
Today is the 13th annual Independent Bookstore Day. More than 2,000 indie bookstores nationwide are taking part, according to the American Booksellers Association, which has provided a helpful map for your weekend shopping.
No book-buying for me today though. It’s time to grab my bow and cloak and get out the door to the 2nd annual Lord of the Rings marathon at our local indie performing arts center The Park Theatre. The extended versions, of course. Who says “children’s” books were really written for children?
And yes, there will be lembas bread.